#guess who can't read a calendar

[caressthosecheekbones]

wer den kalender lesen kann...

FUUUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Nices Genre auch btw

[sophsbookstore]

The Perfect Day

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader pt. 2 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 1 here

A/N: In honor of Charles Leclerc winning the freakin Monaco Grand Prix!! 

Word count: 2,453

“Looks like you have no one on schedule.” The front desk lady says to Y/N.

Y/N looks up from her phone, constantly refreshing her calendar, checking to make sure what she’s hearing is correct. There has to be some mistake? Just yesterday she was completely booked for the day.

“I think everyone canceled for the grand prix, I mean who would want to miss it, Charles is starting on pole!” The lady raved. All of Monaco was rooting for Charles, there was something in the air, everyone knew that Charles was going to win the Grand Prix, he had to.

“So I guess I'm off for the day?” Y/N looks at the lady puzzled, regretting her rejection of Charles' invitation to the Grand Prix.

Y/N waves goodbye to the other employees packing their things, the girl goes back to her car, sitting in science before calling Charles’ mom. She picks up within the first couple of rings. Y/N asks for Charles, his mom calling to Charles on the other line, passing her phone to her son.

“Sorry for telling you on such short notice but my schedule is cleared if there's still an available spot to see you race today.” Y/N starts fiddling with her hands, although Charles can't see, she hopes he doesn't pick up on the pleas in her voice.

“For you? There is always room.” With that Y/N gets an address sent to her and digital tickets to let her in. “I'll meet you at the entrance so I can give you your pass.” Y/N nods rapidly, thanking Charles for his generosity. Telling her that it was no problem at all, Charles bids her farewell, promising to see her later at the Grand Prix. Y/N rushes home, knowing she doesn't have long until the event starts.

She rummages through her closest, trying to find an outfit she deems perfect for the occasion. Finally landing on an outfit that satisfies her she looks at the clock, noticing that it's about time she leaves. She locks the door to her apartment behind her, shaking her hands with anxiety, reminding herself that she's there to support Charles.

When she finally gets to the Grand Prix she notices a group of people huddled near the entrance. She follows security, parking her car, dusting herself off, rolling her shoulders back, and walking closer to the commotion. 

As Y/N steps closer she finally sees what's at the center of the huddle, Charles. She waves her hand up in the air, hoping he catches her signal to him. Luckily he does. Quickly he makes his way over to her, pushing through the interviewers and paparazzi, with the green paddock pass in his hand.

“I'm so happy you came.” He says, pulling her in for a hug, kissing her cheek as he does so.

“I'm so happy you still let me come.” The pair laugh, pulling away from the embrace.

Charles wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close to him as the two enter the paddock. Charles lets go of Y/N for a moment, stepping in front of her and placing the pass around her neck as they reconnect with one another officially entering the grounds.

Y/N can feel everyone staring at her, anxiety starts to bubble in her chest, wondering if she was being stared at in disgust or curiosity. “Don't worry about them.” Charles turns whispering in her ear.

“It's hard, they keep staring at me like I'm some kind of animal at the zoo.”

“Y/N they are most likely looking at how pretty you are, I mean I can't help but stare too.” He smirks, Y/N playfully removing her hand around him to give him a little smack on the arm, quickly moving it back around him.

The pair make their way to the Ferrari hospitality, Charles introduces Y/N to the various staff scattered around before making his way over to his brother Arthur. Y/N has met Arthur before, giving him ‘hellos’ here and there when he comes in to get his haircut by his mom.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” The younger driver asked in excitement.

“She's my plus one.” Charles smiles at his brother, Y/N blushing, nodding in agreement.

Before the three could say any more to each other someone taps Chalres shoulder, his engineer signaling to him that it's time for him to leave. Charles frowns, nodding understanding he gives his brother a hug, the younger of the two hyping up his older brother.

Charles goes back to Y/N giving her a long embrace before kissing the side of her head. “You're going to win today, I just know it.” Y/N whispers to Charles moments before he leaves.

“I really hope you're right.” He gives her one last glance before following his engineer toward the car.

Y/N and Arthur mingle around the paddock, Arthur introducing Y/N to almost everyone that he knows. “Is that my nephew?” Arthur yells out, moving quickly towards a man that Y/N has never seen before.

“Y/N, this is my adopted nephew Oscar.” Oscar walks over to the both of them, shaking Y/N’s hand. 

“Ahh, so you must be Charles’ new son. Congratulations on P2, I wish you luck on your race today.” Y/N gives him a warm smile, the driver smiling back.

“Thank you.” Moments later Oscar is also pulled away, saying goodbye to the two as he makes his way towards his Mclaren.

Arthur motions for Y/N to follow him, together they make their way over to their designated area, Arthur slipping some headphones onto Y/N’s head as the two settle in, anxiously watching the screen in front of them as Monaco settles in silence, manifesting Charles' win.

Needless to say the race was stressful, with the red flag barely into the first lap Y/N worried that someone would overtake Charles, wanting to scream to the other drivers not to pass Charles on such a special and important day.

Arthur and Y/N hold onto one another during every touch, maneuver, and tire change, wishing the best for Ferrari, but most importantly Charles. As the lap starts coming to an end Y/N and Arthur look at one another, is this it? Is Charles going to win his home race and finally break the Monaco curse?

As Charles pulls closer to the finish line everyone from Ferrari runs closer to the barriers, screaming for Charles as he crosses the line. Tears hit Y/N's eyes, the girl cheering as loud as she can. He has done it, Charles Leclerc wins the 2024 Monaco Grand prix.

Charles practically jumps out of his car, tears trickling out of his eyes as he cheers atop his Ferrari. Jumping down before running and leaping towards his team. As if the cries of joy couldn't be any louder they did. At that moment it seemed that all of Monaco was cheering for him. 

Charles moves throughout the crowd hugging the people who helped him most to get this victory, finally making his way to Arthur and Y/N. Y/N steps to the side, letting the brothers have their moment first, hugging one another before the driver turns to Y/N.

The two melt in their embrace, Y/N crying tears of joy for Charles. “You did it!” She pulls back, her arms still tightly around Charles' big frame. “I knew you would.” 

Charles continues to hold her. “Meet me after the race, I still have dinner with you tonight. '' Y/N nods rapidly. Charles finally stepped away to go with his rest of the team to the doc, getting ready to do their celebratory jump into the water.

Arthur and Y/N follow behind the large group, Y/N taking out her phone to snap a few pictures in celebration. One by one the big group starts to taper off, either going off to celebrate or do interviews, Arthur says goodbye to Y/N leaving the girl to wait for Charles.

After countless interviews the driver finally returns to Y/N, now fully dried he gives her a hug. “Thank you for waiting.”

“No worries! Congratulations on your race, seriously.” She smiles up at him. “You don't have to go to dinner with me, I know you would much rather be partying with everyone.”

“Nonsense, the parties will go on later in the night. Right now, I want to be with you.” He holds out his hand, Y/N gladly takes it, the pair walking towards Ferrari hospitality so Charles can change into less damp, non-Ferrari clothes.

Y/N waits outside for Charles to change, once ready the pair walk toward the parking lot. “The restaurant is fairly close if you want to walk?” He offers. Y/N looks over at her car, then back at Charles. “Sure!”

Together the pair walk out of the circuit, now entering the streets of Monte Carlo. They continue to talk with one another, getting interrupted every few meters by fans noticing Charles, everyone giving him high praise for his victory.

“Maybe we should have driven.” Charles jokes, the pair walking faster trying to get rid of the crowd following them, getting larger by the minute.

“Next time we will for sure.” Y/N nods in agreement.

“Next time? Already planning a second date before the first?” Charles smiles, the tips of his ears getting hot.

Y/N blushes in embarrassment. “Oh! I- ummm.” She stutters, getting caught off guard by Charles' question.

“I'd be more than happy to go on another date with you Y/N.” He smiles, the pair silently brushing their fingers together, slowly intertwining their hands as they continue down the busy Monte Carlo street.

Finally making it to the restaurant the staff immediately identify Charles, moving rapidly getting Charles and Y/N a room in the back. Patrons and staff of the restaurant give Charles loud cheers and high praise the further they walk into the restaurant.

Charles steps in front of Y/N pulling the girl's chair out for her to sit, thanking him she does so, Charles scooting her chair forward before taking his rightful seat across from her. The two open up their menus, engaging in slight conversation before both put their menus down, leaning forward, getting closer to one another.

“Thank you for coming to the race, and to dinner with me after.” Charles smiles, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you for the invite! Surprisingly, I'm glad that everyone canceled their appointments, if they hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to see you win.”

“I don't know how to feel, I'm just so excited and happy. I wish that my father would have been here to see it. We both dreamed of me winning my home race.” He looks down at the menu, quickly wiping his eyes.

“He is, he might not be physically here but he is always with you. I can say with 100% certainty that wherever he might be, he is jumping up and down cheering the hardest for you.” Charles looks up at Y/N, his eyes glossy.

“Thank you Y/N, truly.”

Before the pair can say any more, the waiter comes to the table. Both Charles and Y/N put in their orders continuing the conversation once he leaves. Charles asks Y/N about her life, wanting to get to know her more as the pair had only met days prior.

“I should really give you my number, especially since we are going on a second date. It would be weird if you kept calling my mom and asking for me.” Charles laughs, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“Yeah…sorry about that.” Y/N looks away.

“Don't worry at all, it was my mistake for not asking for your number when we first met.” Charles hands his phone to Y/N the girl typing in her information before texting herself on his phone.

Their food soon arrives, the conversation not dying down one bit. The couple talked, not once did an awkward silence fall upon them. As the sun began to set the waiter came back with the bill. Y/N starts to reach for it, but Charles is too quick.

“Please let me, the date was my idea.”

“Charles, you literally won the Monaco Grand Prix, it's the least I could do.”

“You showing up, and coming with me tonight is everything I wanted. You can get the next one if you really want to.” He hands his card to the waiter, who soon comes back with Charles' card and the receipt.

Charles and Y/N both get up, interlocking hands once more before leaving the restaurant, Charles thanking the wait staff as they leave. “Let me walk you back to your car. I don't want you walking alone.”

The two walk in silence, taking in the warm summer air, gazing at the beautiful monte carlo sights. Charles notices Y/N’s face contorting in discomfort. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, my shoes are kinda hurting, but we’re almost there.” She shrugs.

Charles stops, Y/N following his lead the pair stand on the near empty Monte Carlo sidewalk. “Here let me.” Charles bends down, putting his knee up signaling Y/N to rest her foot on top. She does so, Charles taking off her shoes for her before getting back up off the floor, shoes in hand.

“Get on.” Charles turns around, squatting down for Y/N to get on his back. Once again she does so, quickly hopping onto his back as the pair continue to venture further into the night.

They finally get back to the parking lot, Y/N unlocks her car as Charles, ever the gentleman holds her door open for him. Y/N hops off of Charles back, staring ahead at her car, looking back at Charles who's looking back at her.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, nervous for his response. 

Charles lets go of the door handle. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes the sides of her face in his hands, the two engaging in a passionate kiss. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. After a moment the pair pull back, still holding each other close.

“What a perfect way to finish the night.” Y/N smiles, pulling Charles in for another kiss.

“I couldn't have said it better myself.”

[avatar-anna]

"Hey, Y/n!"

What's up, Y/n?"

Harry heard the soft lilt of his girlfriend's voice as she responded to his co-workers before making her way through the parlor to his workroom. He listened as Y/n shuffled inside, the door shutting with a soft click behind her. She set her things down on the ground before sitting in the stool opposite him. Looking up briefly from the report he was reading, he smiled, beckoning her over with one hand. Not needing to be told once let alone twice, Y/n made herself comfortable on Harry's lap, leaning against his chest with her eyes closed while he finished up.

"Hey, bunny. How was rehearsal?"

"Okay, I guess," she murmured, and Harry paused again to kiss her exposed neck. The tight bun her hair was knotted in tickled his nose, but he was used to it. "The full run-through wasn't a complete disaster."

"That's good," Harry said, squeezing her thigh. "I bet you nailed your variation."

Y/n briefly lifted her head so her gaze met his, an amused glint in her eye. "Variation, huh?"

Harry took the opportunity to kiss the tip of her nose. "Don't act like I don't listen."

Grinning, she settled back down. "Are you almost finished?"

Taking his reading glasses off, he ran a tired hand over his face. He probably should've called it a night. It wasn't his turn to close the shop, and he didn't have anymore appointments. It was a night they both planned for, had both marked their calendars in the hopes of spending an uninterrupted evening alone. And even though he wanted nothing more than to haul Y/n upstairs to his apartment, he always had a tough time wrapping up his work day.

"I will be soon. Promise," he said. "You can go up and take a bath, unwind, do whatever you need to do."

Y/n, who had been patiently awaiting his answer, turned in his lap. She ran her hands up and down Harry's shoulders as she nudged his cheek with her nose before kissing it, then kissed her way down to his neck. The paper he'd been holding nearly fell to the floor when she grazed her teeth along a particularly sensitive spot, chills curling up his spine as he gripped her waist with one hand.

"What if I want to unwind with you, daddy?"

Harry's eyes squeezed shut, a thick swallow passing down his throat. Y/n must've had a harder time at rehearsals than she let on if she was being like this so openly. The door was closed, and she'd mumbled in his ear so that no one else could've possibly heard what she said, but she rarely spoke like that when they were alone unless he coaxed it out of her.

"Yeah? You need to be taken care of tonight?" he asked. Part of him didn't want to, but he pulled Y/n from where she was undoubtedly sucking a hickey onto his skin. Not that it could easily be seen under all the ink there, but it was the thought, the sensation, that counted. "You feeling like you need to be babied a little?"

Y/n blushed, embarrassed by his words, but perhaps by the way they made her feel too. How right they were. She did want to be taken care of tonight. She didn't want to think about a single thing except him, consume him using all five of her senses. Still, she shrugged and nodded only once, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"Oh, come on. You can do better than that, can't you?"

Harry's voice lightly teased, a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.

He never thought he'd be so lucky as to have this woman in his lap, eager to get lost in the feeling of him, to be taken care of by him. When they met, she'd barely said two words at all, let alone to him, having followed her friend into the tattoo parlor while she got inked by Harry. Y/n stood in the corner of Harry's workroom the whole time, an earbud in one ear, hardly paying attention to the fact that the only thing keeping him from looking at her for long periods of time was the tattoo gun in his hands and her friend in the chair beneath him.

It was her solo music, he later discovered. Y/n was always listening to her performance music when opening night was mere days away. And she ran the number in her head too, delicately moving her hands about, eyes staring upwards at nothing while she moved through the variation in her mind. According to her, she never realized she did it until Harry pointed it out.

He'd immediately been taken by Y/n. She'd been quiet that day in the tattoo parlor, but not shy. Y/n had seemed to hold herself with a certain poise that had felt alien in his workroom. There was no judgement, no upturned nose at the parlor or the people decked out head to toe in tattoos in it. She'd sniffed a little at Harry's attempts at flirty jokes and outright refused when he asked her on a date, but he wasn't deterred.

Harry had been vaguely aware of the ballet company a few blocks from the tattoo parlor and made sure to be there on opening night with the biggest bouquet of flowers he could afford. Y/n, who had spotted his ink covered hands and neck, his tattered jean jacket and ripped jeans, among the throngs of suits and ties and gowns, could only deny the flutter in her belly at the fact that he'd come to see her perform.

The rest was history.

Y/n leaned forward now, as if to kiss Harry, but he haltingly placed a finger on her lips. He merely raised a brow, but her shoulders slumped.

"Please, daddy? I've had the longest day. I just want you to help me stretch and maybe rub my shoulders."

And brush her hair, and feed her snacks in bed, and heat up her socks in the dryer so that they were nice and warm when she put them on. Y/n expected the royal treatment, but only because Harry had given her no reason to believe she didn't deserve it. From the moment she agreed to a date with him, he worshipped the ground she walked on, and after seeing how exhausted ballet rehearsals made her, he only wanted to see her perfectly happy and relaxed around him.

"Five more minutes, I promise," Harry said, kissing her pouted lips briefly.

"Two."

Harry raised his brows. "Five."

"Three."

"Four, and that's my final offer."

Y/n nodded, her hand reaching up to smoothe the curls that had fallen in Harry's eyes away from his face. She loved playing with his hair, he'd learned. So much so that he almost wanted to grow it out, just to see her reaction.

Harry made good on his promise, finishing up his final tasks quickly and packing away his things. He made a note to put in an order for more ink and sanitation supplies before leading Y/n out of the workroom and locking up after them. He shouldered her bag, nodding to his mates at their workstations before retiring upstairs to his apartment. The sound of loud music and the whirring of tattoo guns were left below, a calm sort of quiet settling over him and Y/n.

He was hers the rest of the night. Harry sat behind Y/n in his bathtub that was just big enough for the two of them, kissing her and letting her run her hands all over him however she saw fit. He was a little surprised she had so much energy after rehearsal, but he wasn't about to complain. Every kiss was a reward of its own after their respective long days. And when she opened her legs a little wider, a clear invitation, he didn't hesitate.

Later, when they were both bathed and ready for bed, Y/n sat on the floor of Harry's bedroom, her legs spread apart as she leaned forward. She'd claimed she needed his help earlier but had yet to ask, though he figured a massage at the end of her stretches would do the trick.

"How is everything down there?" she asked.

She didn't have to say anything more for him to understand what she meant. "Good. Could be better."

"It looked busy when I came in," Y/n said, changing positions.

"Yeah, but last night was nearly dead," Harry admitted. "I just don't know how to keep it consistent."

"I'm sorry if I pulled you away from work."

"You didn't," Harry promised. "But I have thought about extending my hours so I can see more clients. Not until after your opening night, though."

Finally standing up, Y/n padded over to where Harry laid on the bed. Riding up on the bed, he patted the spot in front of him, encouraging her to sit. She did, the tension in her body leaving on a long exhale as he began to knead the tight muscles in her shoulders. Neither of them spoke, both of them content to sit in silence after a long day's work. Both Harry and Y/n tried to leave work outside of the bedroom for both of their sakes, unless Harry begged Y/n to show him some of what she'd worked on in rehearsals. They agreed earlier on that balance was key. Even though their careers were beyond different, they were both time consuming. Nights together in their bedroom was just for them, nothing else.

When she felt thoroughly relaxed, Y/n slid into bed next to Harry, her arm slipping over his stomach as she pressed herself against his side. The smell of his soap mingled with the shampoo she kept in his shower for overnight stays was nearly dizzying. Harry had always been enamored by the smell of Y/n's perfume, but when she started staying over, and their natural scents began to mix together, he could hardly think straight. He was so gone for this girl, and he didn't think she even realized it.

"You don't think you're spreading yourself too thin? I know money's tight, but I still want you to do your job because it makes you happy, not because you feel like you have to to make ends meet."

Harry never considered the logistics of running his own tattoo parlor, it was never what he'd set out to do. Sure, he loved tattooing, and when his old boss felt it was time to retire, Harry didn't hesitate to accept the offer of running things for him. He felt like he had ideas and experience, a clientele that was sustainable and a well-enough known name to get by. But now there was payroll, and bills, and inventory, and bookkeeping. His old boss had stayed on for a few months until Harry got the hang of things, and he supposed he was decent at running the tattoo parlor, but now he was more of a manager than an artist, and that was something he foolishly hadn't anticipated.

"I'll be okay."

"You promise? You'd tell me if you weren't happy, right? Because I can start babysitting again—"

Harry interrupted Y/n with a kiss, effectively cutting that thought at the knees. "Absolutely not. You're supposed to focus on ballet and nothing else."

Y/n frowned, quite familiar with this argument. She appreciated his dedication to her career and his desire to want her to succeed, but his work mattered to her just as much.

"But if we eventually want a bigger place—"

"We'll get there."

"I just don't want you to be the only one making sacrifices, H."

Running a hand through her damp hair, he said, "No one is sacrificing anything, okay? We're gonna make this work. We always do."

Y/n looked disbelieving at first, but she eventually cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth over him gently. From the moment they met, Harry had been so selfless, and he made it increasingly difficult to return the favor. She loved him for it, but it made her want to shake him all the same sometimes. "You're really fine with extending your hours?"

"Here and there," Harry promised. "For more appointment time, not the business stuff."

"Fine," Y/n relented. "But I'm asking my instructor if she needs help teaching classes."

Harry could tell her mind was made up, and she was just as stubborn as he could be. He nodded, letting the topic go for now, but he knew they'd circle back to it in a few days, maybe a week. Right now, it was time to leave work behind them. They'd already talked about it more than they normally let themselves.

Y/n obviously felt the same, the hand on his cheek traveling down his neck and over his shoulder, tracing the ink that littered his skin as she kissed the corner of his mouth. "No more talking about extra shifts," she murmured. She sucked on the silver hoop pierced through Harry's lip, tugging on it slightly until his mouth devoured hers in a kiss that made them both sigh audibly. Y/n's hand kept moving, sneaking past the waistband of his sweatpants and beneath his briefs, dull nails scratching at sensitive skin until he groaned.

"How do you want me tonight, daddy?" she murmured when Harry finally stopped sucking her bottom lip.

"However you want, bunny. It's up to you."

It was almost always up to Y/n. Harry would never do something if Y/n wasn't one hundred percent okay with it, but she liked to ask, and he liked to let her, if only to hear her call him that name.

Harry's own hands explored, slipping under Y/n's sweats and gripping her slender waist, kneading the powerful muscles in her legs, tucking a finger or two in the juncture between her thighs, but not quite where she wanted to feel them. She whined, but he wouldn't give in until she told him precisely what she wanted, though it was hard for her to talk when his other hand circled her breast and he kept pulling kiss after kiss from her rosy lips. That was his intent—to tease, to make it nearly impossible to tell him what she wanted until she got all huffy and just took it from him. Y/n was so cute when she took matters into her own hands. And sexy, beyond sexy.

"Your dick, please."

"Where? In your mouth? Ow!" he said, yelping when she pinched the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. "Geez, alright, I'll give you what you want. Wait while I grab a condom, will you?"

Y/n made herself comfortable on the bed while Harry rooted around in his nightstand for a condom. He made a mental note to add a new pack to his grocery list as he found one after pushing things around a little too long.

"You think you're ready?" he asked her as he slid the condom on.

Y/n nodded. "Always."

Laughing a little, Harry made himself comfortable between her spread thighs. He kissed her jaw, then the spot behind her ear as he eased himself inside, careful not to go too fast. Y/n had other plans, though, gripping his ass impatiently to move him along. "Who's doing all the work here?" he asked her mockingly, though he still picked up the pace a little.

"I'd do it if you let me," she huffed, but not before arching her back.

Noting the challenge in her voice, Harry deftly flipped them over. Raising his brows, he rested his hands behind his head. "Go on, then."

He didn't expect her to, but Y/n began to move, a stubborn furrow in her brow, though it eventually faded to something more blissed out and relaxed. Harry kept his hands at her waist, gripping them tightly and resisting the urge to thrust upwards. Because she was right, of course. Harry couldn't help but take things into his own hands—set the pace, position her where he knew she felt the best, determining how and when they both finished. Y/n was usually more than happy with the dynamic, but she seemed perfectly pleased with herself as she rode him too.

"Go on, daddy. Know you want to," she exhaled, tightly gripping his shoulders. "Please?"

Both of them were lovingly predictable, but neither of them minded. Y/n laid herself across his chest while Harry began to thrust into her, hard enough that her eyes squeezed shut and began to mumble incoherently. Harry whispered in her ear how good she felt around him, how greedy she was for wanting to come again after doing so twice in the bathtub but that he loved her for it, how he knew she was close just by the sounds she made. All of it went to her head and the pulsing in her thighs, making it hard to think about anything but how he made her feel, and he teased her for that too.

"What happened to that mouth of yours, hm? Where'd you go? My cock too big for you to think properly?"

Harry was hardly one to talk. Sometimes she squeezed around him so hard his vision went blissfully white, but he wasn't the one who got off being teased about it.

"M—More," was all Y/n could manage before she ducked her head into the crook of his neck, sucking love bite after love bite in quick succession.

They finished in a heap of sweaty and tangled limbs. Harry breathed heavily as he brushed a hand through Y/n's hair, pulling a few strands away from her cheek. She rested on his chest, making no attempts to move. Harry knew she could fall asleep like this, so he nudged her shoulder to keep her from doing so.

"Hey you," he cooed. "We need to get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep."

Y/n shook her head as best she could while laying on his chest. "Could stay like this forever. Like feeling full."

Harry's face flushed as he kissed her temple. "I'm flattered, but we should still clean up."

"One of these days I'm going to convince you," she grumbled, sliding off him with a huff.

Chuckling, Harry said, "What? Falling asleep with my cock in you? I'd be happy to one day, bunny, but the last thing we need is a baby scare."

Grumbling, Y/n sat up and shrugged back into her shirt. She knew he had a point, but her brain was still a little fuzzy and it clouded her judgement. She wasn't on any birth control, having not liked the way it changed her so much—the mood swings, the weight gain, the lethargy. Not only did it affect her day to day life, but it affected her dancing. It was a choice she made when she was in her last years of ballet school, and thankfully Harry had been understanding when she told him.

Slipping off the bed, Harry quickly disposed of the condom and examined himself in the mirror. Even through the tattoos that covered nearly every inch of his upper body, could see the faint red marks and cute little bruises, that littered his skin. It was the same every time, but something about seeing it left Harry feeling very pleased.

When he reentered his bedroom, Y/n was nearly asleep, one long leg half thrown over his side of the bed. He shook his head to himself before maneuvering around his girlfriend. She was the most graceful person Harry had ever met, but when she slept—or when she was half asleep, in this case—she was about as immovable as a large rock.

"Move over, bunny."

"Hm."

Rolling his eyes, Harry carefully lifted Y/n's leg, ignoring her groans of protest until she was settled back against him. She sighed deeply, then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Night."

The last thing Harry felt was amusement as he settled deeper into the pillows. "Night, baby," he mumbled, kissing the top of her head before closing his eyes.

[court-jobi]

The Bet

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 4.2k

Rating: T

Warnings: flirty FLUFF hours, yall, quirkless!reader/Pro-Hero Hawks, tame dressing room shenanigans, light teasing, he fell first she fell harder vibes

Summary:

Hawks loves a playful game, and you're a sucker for each and every one. Till now, you've taken his harmless flirting as just that, but it is starting to seep into you. You're a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… only today, you'd profit off of his attentions by way of a bet-- or was this just another way for him to spoil you?

A/N: this is one of the first Hawks ideas I had, based on the hc that he'd have an eye for fashion given all those gorgeous accessories he wears... pretty bird likes pretty things. gosh I just love this man. oh gosh, do I part 2 this one? Might be fun… and spicy… edit: now available HERE

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

“Alright m’dear, I'm impressed,” your Winged Hero pins up his wings with a slow clap, “You win!”

As you’re stepping out of the car, suave cheers are the flirty taunt you hear over your shoulder– well, up on the lightpost. 

“Win?” you fire back to the source of shadow over you -Hawks- as he hops off and strides over to you, “-were we playing something?”

“The race,” he shares plain as day. “Thought I’d race ya back to the Commission's office, see if I could beat your- charming- chauffeur here since I was on my way too~”

Ah, so it was a one-sided game, it seems. The driver who picked you up from the conference center passes you, poorly masking his exhaustion at the flyboy’s presence at just about every turn. When it involves transporting you, the poor man knows Hawks won’t be far behind. 

It’s not like you encourage this behavior… but you don’t stop it either.

Between the two of you, the money on who could remain the most professional in public would sit squarely in your court. But to say it didn’t interest you, this mysterious focus of affection from the #2 Hero in the country? Well, riddle you intrigued. So you let him talk- as long as you keep your ironclad guard up, you tell yourself you’ll resist his teasing just fine.

You shoulder your belongings in order to follow the driver, but slow your pace for Hawks to catch up. He’s earned a bite, with those pretty eyes of his.

“And just how did you know I was even going to the Commission's office?”

“You really gotta start setting your calendar to ‘private’ if you don’t want me seein’ where you’re heading, lovedove.”

You really should be better about changing your working location on your calendar– because if it involves your contract with the Hero Commission, Hawks inevitably will see it. All in all, he's not wrong, so you can't really call him nosy when you've advertised where you'll be. He's notably observant as per his profession, and the dearly devoted attention is… sweet, in its own way. 

And the pet names. You’re a sucker for the pet names. How pathetic. 

You’re a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… There’s something oddly American about Hawks’ forwardness, indeed. There’s hardly an ounce of propriety on him. All gorgeous grins, fawning compliments spouting from his lips, and hearts in his eyes. 

“But!” Hawks sighs in faux dejection, “since you beat me here fair and square, I guess that makes you the winner this time.”

You bite the inner of your cheek, “And what have I won?”

“That's up to the victor- whoever got through all that traffic to the office fastest gets a favor of their choice. I bet a nice dinner out, buuuut I don’t believe you’ve decided just yet...”

“Don’t you have enter a race in order to win it.”

Hawks lifts his hands, “Nnnope~ I don’t make the rules, I’m just telling you what they are.”

How generous. 

“A hero’s favor: I’m speechless,” you fein sarcasm, but it comes out just as flirtatious.

Boyish charm on full blast, Hawks starts walking in reverse a few extra steps: to get a better look at you as you set each perfect stride forward. 

“So. What'll it be? Office hours with yours truly? New tablet? Maybe treat you to a subscription for those shnazzy glasses you like so much? I know a pretty neat brand deal who'll be happy to set you up~”

He’s laying it on thick… but from the back of your mind -the part you really try to silence while on the clock as a consummate professional- you throw Hawks a curveball:

”A dress.”

Hawks pauses and blinks, “Say again?”

“You heard me. I want a nice dress. I can't remember the last time I went shopping, plus I certainly don't have my wardrobe from New York– and there's a board dinner coming up next week. So, I'll need a dress.”

“Oh really?” Hawks comes to scritch at what little, tailored facial hair he has, “Done!”

Yes, you needed a dress. Yes, you have a particularly dashing hero willing to wine and dine and hold a childish bet as the excuse for him to buy it for you. Yes, you even have full plans to send some photos of the excursion to him as a little treat for his efforts.

But yes, you’re regretting everything. 

Taking a personal day, you drag out your morning routine to maximum enjoyment. A quick, efficient breakfast wouldn’t do today; this called for a home-baked casserole moment to start your time off at home. Light and easy, it held you over through some oddball errands, which you humored your friend back home with as you called her up on the way to the shopping complex,

“//It’s a blend of formal and not, here– like, you’ll have someone dressed to the nines in a full suit, then a girl walks up onto the train looking straight out of a k-pop video!//” 

You chatter away in your first language, brain taking a sufficient backseat from the Japanese your father raised you on. 

“//Yeah, I mean, I love the looks, it’s just fashion whiplash sometimes. There’s also an insane amount of hero merch- it’d put Iron Man to shame… Oh, for sure, you’d have a field day– and no bank accou–... you’ve gotta be kidding me.//”

Your bestie asks what happened on your end of the line; why your voice suddenly fell to a groaning whisper. 

Peeping down from the rooftop of the dress shop was Hawks– a pleased smirk on full display and waving, having lifted your sights with a little whistle that a bird a fraction of his size might have made.

Somehow, you knew better- hearing the utter tease in that bird call.

“//My god… I’m an idiot.//”

Hindsight working as it wills, you realized your regret at telling him where you were interested in going to shop around, and blamed your bogged-down memory that still failed to update your shared calendar and remove some pesky permissions for privacy’s sake. Can’t even say he didn’t warn you- Hawks teased you of it straight up.

These two slips combined meant you should not have thought any freedom would be yours when a muted flash of red rains a couple of stray, baby feathers atop you as you approach the storefront. 

“Hiya~!” he calls to your stunned face, which gives way to resignation. Tender, willing resignation. 

Hand shielding your face from the sun, you make out where he’s cocked his head at you and simply offer a little crook of your finger to make him come down. 

“--I’ll call you back~” you tactfully ignore all of your bestie’s spot-on assumptions that the fabled flyboy had arrived to collect on your winnings.

He was a grown man. Surely a picture to approve the purchase and details for wiring the money at checkout would have sufficed for this little venture- did he have to accompany you?

"Ahhh time for you to model for me, eh gorgeous?" Hawks croons once he arrives by your side.

Your gentleel, pacifying nature mutes the barest flicker of an eye roll. "Please don't make me regret this, dear."

"No funny business, promise," he held his hands out in defense. "A bet is a bet. You claimed your terms, I deliver. I'm just here honoring our deal."

You pause now that you were four feet from the door. For some reason, you felt a pang of nerves underneath your cool exterior. To double it, you were positive his attention should likely be anywhere but here. Seeing as he’s dressed down in street clothes settles that worry, but you still think he should surely be needed somewhere other than a women’s dressing room. 

"I never meant you had to be present for redemption, though."

“Course I do. Fine print; ‘must provide adequate supervision’. For posterity’s sake– you know how it is, dove.”

“Seems I don’t know a lot of these ‘terms’ when it comes to you…”

"Humor a poor, losing man's wish. After you."

You couldn't lie, Hawks was a pro at sweet talking and complimenting you- and seemingly only towards you. Press conferences and bathroom trips alike, he seeks out an opening to ask you something so down-to-earth that you never consider a chat with him to be strictly ‘small talk’. Truly it didn't matter the duration– Hawks flew to you like a magnet, but never carried out the same saucy line twice. It’s enough to make you think whatever’s happening between you is not something casual for him…

Not since the night you met, where talk between you lifted the persona of ‘Hawks’ and revealed the man underneath bit by bit. He shed that outer bravado almost immediately with you; you could tell that’s a rare (and perhaps dangerous) move on his part. 

To be true, you liked that part. That felt real. It was that rationale which you hung onto. Let yourself be tugged by the side of your brain that allowed Hawks to usher you into a particular formalwear shop you’d heard rave reviews from a coworker a few months into your life in Japan. 

This one-on-one time together could be a sweet fever dream– or a horrendous case of honey-dipped hives. You’d focus on the positives for now: so long as he minds his hold on your heartstrings, perhaps your new crimson shadow would prove your mistrusting gut wrong…

Hawks follows companionably behind once you walk in. His wings are shucked a touch shorter today, and elicit  a few double takes from some folks between racks.

You note the peeping and low gasps, and cast a look back to him as you turned a corner, 

"Second thoughts about a public appearance in daylight?"

Hawks grins back without missing a beat.

"Not a chance~ Wouldn't miss this time for the world." 

You start up the escalators and he keeps one step lower. Ever the faithful duckling, when you veer off towards the formalwear, a woman came right to greet you both– immediately recognizing the pro hero at your heels. After you assure her that you were alright managing on your own, you were happy to find Hawks mimic your reasoning when asked again– and kept the interaction short and sweet.

Then the teasing started.

‘D’ya like this one?’ ‘This would hug you in all sortsa good ways.’ ‘Watch out gents, here comes trouble~’

“Red would look stunning on you.”

You eye Hawks playfully– both at what he suggests and the proof that stems from below his shoulders: where he prominently featured the color on his person. 

"It's a better color on you, hon,” you hedge against his push for that dress. “Besides, I'm looking for length and cut, not just color."

Less than happy with your objectives, he picks one up anyway. "Sure about that? Give it a real look."

Red, of course, and while you nearly straight-up ignored the selection outright– you thought it over once you saw the dress he was referring to. From an exasperated cock of the head, you straighten up, consider, and hold it yourself. It wasn't bad, actually… The fabric was divine.

You ask for a couple sizes for him to check. Making out the Japanese characters on these tiny SKU cards was still hard to read, so you are genuinely thankful for his presence now more than when you came in.

"Hmmm…” Hawks put himself to work, but fell just as puzzled as you. “Euro sizes here, it looks like."

"Oh crap, that's right..." you mumble through the ‘dress math’ after a quick conversion chart lookup and notice they do have it in your size.

“I’ll– think about it,” you placate him. 

Hawks conveniently pulls out his phone and makes a note by your contact– listing your dress size ‘for future reference’.

He didn’t make a show of it, but wasn’t subtle with what’s on his screen, either… so you clear out your phone's notifications with thinly veiled sass and an overactive thumb.

"Are you blushing?" Hawks calls to break you out of your stewing.

"Hush you~" You pocket your phone again while he chuckles.

 "Okay okay, back to business. What about this one?"

A deep gunmetal floor length gown is what catches Hawks’ attention next. It’s downright elegant, but a bit over the top. 

"Hm, shame. I can see that one for maybe an embassy event..."

Watching Hawks peruse is amusing. He stays away from the flashy, multi-textured colors, but the muted metallics and jewel tones draw him to finger through racks consistently. More to match his suit selection, you figure. So, you entertain him when you circle back to the red dress in your size, and hand it over to him to carry. You ignore the way Hawks’ eyes light up and follow after you, humming some happy little earworm.

"Ooo~ what's this black one by its lonesome over there?"

By the off-yellow tag, he spots a factory sample: ideal length, asymmetrical cut, appealing neckline and just your type. Hawks couldn’t hide his appreciative look your way as he holds it out and imagines it on your body type.

“Well now, that’s cute~”

"Try it?"

You agree and read off the dress size again (more for your memory than his). For a second, you catch sight of the reverse side of the tag, and almost choke as you return to the few items he held draped across his arm, inspecting each of their tags as well,  "//Holy hell-//"

“Language," Hawks chuckles.

Your eyes fire humorously back at him, with a firm grip on the price tag of the one in your hand. 

"This dress -here- is over a thousand dollars!!" you stage-whisper.

 Hawks conspiratorially looks around, and matches your whispered tone, "--You're trying it on!"

"Hawks."

"Keigo–" He reminds you, softer still, and relieves it from your hands to join the red one. "And you're wearing it. What else? You need more than two options." 

Avoidant of the pricepoint, you find one in a navy satin and another deeper purple number till you sit Hawks down forcibly on a bench outside when he proceeds to follow you into a room as a gag.

While the blue could use a different size, the black was your favorite so far. You’d be pleased that you won’t leave here unhappy, certainly, if you still weren’t so sticker-shocked. 

But then the red dress -perfectly hung and whispering to you-  reminds you he was still out there, waiting to see it.

"You still alive in there, sunshine? Haven't heard a peep in a while."

"What, you wanna see every one?" You fire back confidently, but with your pulse racing.

"Only fair. I'm here as a second pair of eyes."

"Hm. That's what I'm worried about."

He laughs it off. "Come out, I wanna see you."

So you slip out of your room in the black midi dress with a little shuffle of your hair, looking damn gorgeous and an ideal knockout in any professional circle. There’s a perfectly-structured, white accented jacket in your arm that you slide on and look across to a mirror. 

No second-guessing filled your mind at all when you took in the full ensemble. Pleased, you made your third immediate regret looking through the mirror’s forced perspective at the man sitting behind you.

Yes, Hawks -the #2 fan-favored Pro-Hero- is GAWKING.

"So? What’s the verdict?"

His eyes roam, but meet yours when prompted. "I .. didn't expect anything less than gorgeous on you, but... you are stunning."

The flatterer was present, but the undertone carried out from his compliment seems utterly adoring. Those golden eyes aren't far off from hungry, yet he respectfully rests his sights to your eyes more than anywhere else.

"Do you like it?" Hawks craves your opinion above all.

"I really do." You turn to the side to check your posture, and take the outer layer off again. "I'll have the jacket for other things too, if I go with this one. But I think the straps should be fine for Endeavor’s agency, right?"

"Have you seen Bubble Girl?" Hawks mouths off, now standing by you. "She's one nip slip away from an x rated advertisement."

"Hey!"

"To put it kindly! No, this is- tastefully sexy." The backs of his fingers brush by your elbow. He takes care not to let the touch linger but enjoys the view all the same while he has it. 

You smirk back and feel great about your top choice. 

"--What about the red one?"

–and there it is.

You fix the jacket collar absently so it doesn’t crease, "Haven't tried it yet."

"It’s next, right?"

You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"I'm a man of my tastes~ and I have a good feeling about it."

So you change, with a few impatient remarks from outside the door. This one has you a bit more nervous.

The leg slit had you hot flashing on your neck and up your jaw– standing vulnerable in your stall. Checking over yourself, you’re suddenly aware of Hawks’ comments at the apartment that one night after he dropped you off from a spur-of-the-moment karaoke night. Something about the high cut that reminded you that Hawks was a leg man for sure, and he'd surely have a field day seeing a dress with this much skin. The sleeves were shimmering and gorgeous, and you felt comfortable otherwise. So... nothing left but to strut it out and get it over with.

Coming out, you could have snorted at the way Hawks melted. 

Wings drooped, the man slack-jawed and eyes blown into an awestruck stare, you feel 90% more proud. Sauntering to the mirror, you fuss over the look in perfect confidence now- spinning to give him the first once-over before you could get the first grand look yourself.

"I'll admit, good find,” you praise appreciatively, thankful he didn’t start howling the second you emerged. “You saw it first. Happy?"

Hawks is quiet for a beat but lifts to your gaze again shyly before looking back.

"Ah... You’re.. really beautiful. I mean, wow," he hides behind some propped up hands.

You smile and don't care now fast your heart flutters. The butterflies warm you all the same, in that special way he seems to bring out in you. What were once nerves turn to calm as he watches you turn and joins your side again, a bit closer.

A strong, soothing hand slightly correcting where the seam fell along your side, you kept your focus on the event itself and not on his touchiness. Much easier to do than reading into Hawks’ reaction and attention on you.

"It’s a little formal for next week, but... I may have to remember to come back for this one some other time. When the right occasion strikes." 

That decision seems to break him from his trance: "Oh no– you're getting that one, too."

You whip your head aside fast, "No way. Deal was one dress. That last one is already over 800- plus whatever the jacket was, technically-"

"I don't believe it's your job to worry about cost, sunshine." Hawks pockets his hands confidently, staring you down exclusively in the mirror’s view.

“Haw----Keigo…”

“You won. Winner called for dress shopping. You never specified how many.”

“I’m pretty sure I did name a one, singular event in mind-”

“Nonetheless, I am indeed the loser and therefore the payor of said bet.” Hawks fixes you a firmer look than usual. “I say you get both. Black set for next week, the red for… call it a rainy day.”

You believe his seriousness, but can’t shake a twinge of guilt at the cost. This was a silly bet; a saucy wager between two people that tests the waters of what you’d call this friendship… 

“Look– I’m sure money isn’t an object for you, but this would—”

“--be my pleasure.” Hawks won’t let you finish- “C’mon- When was the last time you bought something like this for yourself?”

Hawks holds you by the shoulders to turn back to the mirror. At your quick study over the red semi-formal gown again, you flip your sleeve cuff into place and miss the loving look he gave while pulling your hair back softly. 

His fingers return to your shoulders but with the gentlest, experimental touches to your neck in its path.

“You -my darling wordsmith- have, no doubt, the kindest heart I’ve ever met in one of the hardest cities in Japan. Those two things shouldn’t coexist in this kinda world, but you thrive in it. You’re… so good. You haven’t let the hard stuff touch you, even when you’re neck deep in it. Not only that, I’d say you're also easily the most resourceful mind PR’s had in years; hell, of any agency on the field. You’re brilliant, funny, and as I've so recently discovered today– downright gorgeous, no matter what you’ve got on.” 

His gaze separates in favor of fixing a portion of hair back into place– light preening, by his standards. 

“Gems like you come once in a lifetime; if anyone is that lucky to meet one nearly as great as you… they should consider it a blessing…” 

You hadn’t realized you'd leaned back into his space until you register his hand sliding down to caress your elbow, and his other fingers resting right on your waist. 

He tilts ever so slightly to speak towards your ear; his eyes meeting yours again, a sparkle in them that has you wrecked.

“You won a stupid bet, sure; but you deserve to be treated more often than once-in-a-blue-moon. Call me selfish for taking the role of the guy who gets the pleasure.”

Your polite smile turns lopsided, just listening to this rare show of heart. 

“Please let me do this for you, lovedove. Please?”

Sorry gut, you’ve been proven wrong. He’s a verified angel, and to be frank, you’re tired of avoiding the flip in your tummy when you see him. With Hawks pressed against your back, you’re not troubled by what fleeting intentions he may or may not have– not when you can see them plainly in that pretty face looking back at you. 

While your standards had always been on sharp lookout for the catch behind his behavior, what made Hawks’ company something you looked forward to was the heart behind the charm... that soft feeling you caught every now and then when you two spoke behind closed doors or in passing. He carried a depth with him, but also a lightness that seemed to shine whenever he took to your presence– like he was chasing after joy, not just chasing some tail. 

Perhaps that was enough for you to want something more than these quick interludes, and draw out this little dress date into lunch.

You nudge your head toward his. “Red, for a rainy day, huh?”

He nuzzles you back perfectly. “Mhm~”

“Rainy days call for rainy dates, don’t they?”

Interest lifts the hero’s wings, but he keeps his voice sure and calm, “Sure would be poetic~”

You don’t break eye contact with him in the mirror while you mesh your fingers with his on your waistline,

“Then I guess a certain someone should ask me. Get something on the calendar he’s actually invited to.”

Hawks matches his hold on your waist fully now, relishing the touchpoints he’s sharing with you.

“Now that sounds like a great idea, sunshine.”

“Maybe.. swap some time slots– over lunch?”

A soft glint in his eye, Hawks dips to give your shoulder a small peck, “Done.”

Happy with your bravery - as well as the amount of eye contact that will last you the next four to six business days- you finally cut away from watching Hawks in that damn mirror, and sway side to side enough to give him the hint you were ready to get changed again. Only before he steps completely away, you catch his wrist with a quick, blind question over your shoulder. 

“Hey– help unzip me?”

You’d zipped yourself perfectly fine… this was for him. 

A happy little exhale leaving him as he snugs back up to you, Hawks flares out his wings a bit as he catches that tiny zipper until it reaches your mid back right where you could normally reach- and then a tad lower. 

“There y’go~” Hawks murmurs to your ear again, “I’ll make sure no one catches an eyeful that they shouldn’t.”

You look back to him over your shoulder, “No one?”

An invitation offered, Hawks gives an appreciative glance down where your dress barely splits open.

“Not trying to jump straight to dessert here, yknow. Sounds like I’ve got a hot date.”

Chuckling, you finally twist and keep your new dress up by the front,

“You’re right– it’s not like it’ll be the last time you see me in this. You wanted dinner out, right?”

Hawks gave an agreeable hum, nodding along the way. 

You chip his chin toward you for him to listen,

“Then call me a sore loser next time, so you can collect~”

Part 2

[demiesworld]

THE OTHER WOMAN

☆ pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader, toji fushiguro x wife!oc

☆ characters: fem!reader, toji fushiguro, toji's wife, shiu kong, megumi fushiguro (mentioned), & tsumiki fushiguro (mentioned)

☆ synopsis: continuation of toji's part in this post.

☆ genre: angst, slice-of-life, hurt & no comfort

☆ contents: adultery, cheating, manipulation, black-mailing, swearing, baby-trapping, pregnancy, brief sex scene (between toji and his wife), mention of abortion, idk what else to add

☆ notes: reader is a female and uses she/her pronouns. reader is toxic and has manipulative ways in this, but toji is just as toxic as she is. toji's wife name is not mentioned, although she is to be described as being toji's second wife and the biological mother to tsumiki and step-mother to megumi.

ever since you stopped taking your birth control two weeks ago, you have been waiting for a sign that you were pregnant with toji's child. you were waiting to see if the morning sickness would show, your period to miss or at the least weight gain. but each time you check a pregnancy test for positive result it doesn't show. you even went to your gynecologist to see if you could conceive and you could! but why weren't these pregnancy tests showing positives when you and toji fucked like animals all the time?

you got your answer when you googled ways to increase chances of pregnancy. you will get better odds by having sex before your ovulation and after. you did some further research into it and came to the solution that you needed to try to have sex with toji during your fertility window. and after marking it on your calendar at home, you had made your plan and you were ready to have it set in motion.

by the time your window came you were the one pursuing toji into having sex with you. not him. the first time he got surprised by you pulling him out of a debriefing with his assistant shiu. shiu, who didn't bat an eye when you did. toji followed you into that janitor's closet and fucked you in there. when he came inside of you, you had to contain the joy that you were feeling within.

so after a few rendezvous with toji at work or at your place, you got the first major sign: you missed your period. you woke up that morning with nausea, but you didn't let that stop you from going into your bathroom and taking out a pregnancy test. you went to vomit after you've urinated onto the stick and left it on the counter to sit. once the test was done, you picked it up and you couldn't contain the excitement any longer.

a loud ecstatic scream left from your lungs and you were jumping for joy.

the test read: positive.

you were pregnant. pregnant with toji's child. you leaned against the wall in your bathroom and started crying. it was a blessing to be pregnant, and maybe with this child toji would want to leave that woman for you. after all toji did tell you he was getting tired of her. he told you that she wasn't satisfying him like how you did. he confessed that he only married her because her title as the daughter of a wealthy man.

the last part you didn't understand since toji already had tons of money before he met her. you didn't wonder about it too much since you guessed that toji could possibly outdo the man when it came to money.

you went to work the very next day expecting to have a chat with toji. shiu's desk was right outside of toji's office and he was sitting at it clicking away at his computer when he saw you walking towards the double doors. he got up from his chair in a flash blocking you away from the doors.

"what the fuck shiu? move out of the way."

"toji said he can't be bothered with right now he is in a meeting."

"so what?" you step to the side to grab the door handle but he blocked your path again. you were becoming annoyed so you shouted, "get out of my way shiu!"

he figured you ought to find out the hard way. shiu stepped to the side and sat at his desk allowing for you to grab the door handle. when you pushed it open your heart had shattered and you didn't expect to see this. no you didn't expect to see this at all.

toji on top of his wife, pummeling his thick cock into her pussy on top of his desk. her back was facing you, and she couldn't see your face. though toji could. he saw the mortified expression you had and his reaction was just callous. he simply acted like you weren't there, maintaining eye contact with you as he grunted into his wife's ear.

"you feel so fucking good honey."

"ahh, t-tojiii,"

you swore you could have fainted right then and there. why was this happening? why was he with her? toji told you he didn't want her so why was she getting railed by a cock that injected its sperm into you?

your mind broke. without thinking you had slammed the door shut and stood there unmoving. you were shaking. you felt sick and not just from the pregnancy.

he was with her.

"y/n,"

he was with her.

"y/n,"

he was with her.

"y/n!"

...

you turn to look at shiu standing in front of you. he had this sorrowful expression on his face. like he didn't want for you to find out about it. you let go of the door handle, and your body felt as if it was heavy as you stride to the nearest restroom. you slammed the door open with a strong push and staggered into a vacant stall. in there you vomited everything into the toilet. and you cried. you sobbed. you wailed.

you place a hand on your stomach. would it even be worth it? would it make a change for you?

you sniffle. you squeeze onto your stomach tighter and purse your lips into a straight line. it would be worth it and it would make a change. you didn't just do all of this for nothing. not to be slapped in the face with what you just witnessed. you weren't going to let that stop you.

you return to your desk after cleaning yourself up shortly after toji's wife walked out next to her husband. you watch with a sour expression as the hand that would hold your legs up was resting on her ass. her brown eyes looking up at him with her ruby red lips smiling so "angelically" at him. as they stood in front of the elevator toji had the nerve to kiss her right in front of you. her lipstick staining his lips just like it did with the white collar on his shirt. when the elevator doors opened she entered the shaft and waves good-bye at him.

you wished the damned elevator would fail.

"hey,"

a familiar voice brings you out of your trance and you look up to see none other than toji. you huff and turn your face away from him.

he places his fingers underneath your chin and you slap his hand away. "dont touch me." you murmur. toji tries to do it again and you slap it harder. "i said dont touch me!"

toji pulls his hand away and tucks both hands into his pockets. you couldn't be around him right now so you gather up your belongings. your purse, your thermos, and your car keys. as you were about to leave he grabbed you by the arm.

"just where in the hell are you going?"

"away from you. im taking the day off."

"im not paying you for-"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU PAY ME OR NOT!"

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE RAISING YOUR VOICE AT?!"

"YOU! YOU'RE A FUCKING LIA-"

you were about to call him a liar but you cut yourself off. you inhale sharply, you became teary-eyed and your heart beat increasing as you felt yourself getting agitated. you yank your arm away from toji and storm out of the office.

toji watches as you leave to go to the stairwell. he knew he made you pissed if you were using the stairwell just to get away from him and not the elevator. not like it was his plan to get you to catch him having sex with his wife. you walked in at the wrong time. he didn't think he did anything to slight you.

toji sighs heavily and leans his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, "did you at least try to stop her shiu?"

"you know i did toji."

"damn it." he spat. "if i don't have one problem with one then i have it with the other."

shiu reclines back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head, "well, what do you think you're gonna do toji?" toji scowls, and shiu adds, "you can't please them both. someone has to go."

he hates to admit it, but shiu is right. one of you has to go. the thing is toji is stuck on who exactly he should cut ties with.

the next day you showed up to work, after your explosion you had with toji. you had wanted to apologize for your behavior to toji and talk with him in private about your pregnancy. however toji was avoiding you. you asked him if you two could sit alone and chat. he blatantly told you not today. you offered him to go out to lunch with you and he said no. before work ended you tried to seduce him into another round of sex in the closet, expecting him to follow you like a lost puppy. he declined.

something was changing.

it just wasn't the change you wanted.

"why doesn't he want to talk to me?"

you pace around your living room.

"was it because i yelled at him?"

you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

"was it because i caught him?"

you lay in your bed staring up at the ceiling.

"is it because of her?"

riiiiing.

riiiiing.

riiiiing.

shiu was cooking dinner when his phone was ringing on the kitchen counter. he lowered the heat of the pot on the stove before he cleaned his hands off on a towel. he goes over to his phone, picking it up to see your number calling him. he furrows his brows. what were you doing calling him?

his thumb slid the green button and he held the device up to his ear. "hello?"

"shiu. i need a favor to ask from you."

he sighs and leans against the counter. "what is it that you want y/n?"

"toji's address."

shiu went silent.

"shiu? shiu are you there?"

"i can't give you that information y/n. toji told me not to give out his address."

you let out a derisive laugh. "i knew you would say that shiu. ahh... you're so funny. i like a comedian, but do you know what else i find funny. the fact that you are a fucking crook."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me. you are a crook kong siwoo. i could have your ass reported to the authorities right now with all the dirt i have on you."

shiu scoffs. he thinks you're bluffing. you must be because what on earth could you possibly have on him that will make-

"a deposit of $12,000 made to account number XXX. a handwritten check by... oh! toji fushiguro? wowwww i never would have known toji would write you a check for 12k shiu."

shiu heart plummets.

"let's see here, oh another deposit except this time it is for $50,000. huh i guess you must have gambled it all away at the casino huh?"

he swallows.

"and what else do we got? ohoho. this one right here is so damn juicy-"

"stop."

"years and years of unpaid taxes. kong siwoo you owe... oh my god. the amount here almost looks like a phone number."

shiu growls into the phone's receiver. "i said stop it."

"$1,364,781.29... whewww... where did it all go?"

"i said stop!"

you went quiet on your end. shiu could feel his hands becoming clammy as he knew that he was now your slave. he had to do your bidding. you knew too much. how did you find out about his schemes, he didn't know, but he knew that if he fucked up it would be the end for him.

he was breathing heavily as to not get himself riled up. suddenly your voice spoke in a flat tone, "the address shiu."

if he gave you toji's address then toji would know it was him that gave it to you. his boss wouldn't be able to trust him with anything again. but... his freedom and reputation was more valuable than keeping a promise.

once you got the address from shiu you said, "im not a cruel person shiu. im not. but when you withold information from me you are bound to just become collateral damage."

click.

shiu drops his phone on the ground and falls to his knees on the kitchen floor. he places his head on the ground and prays.

what had he done?

a grand house with dazzling bright lights stood before you. a three car garage with a round drive way encircling a spouting water fountain in its center. you park your car in the driveway and exit the vehicle holding the gift box in your hand. you could see the lights were on inside of the house. the porch light was on as well. you walked up the short staircase to the door and rang the doorbell.

ding-dong.

"toji honey could you go answer that?"

"yes honey!"

you curled your lip when you heard that through the door. though you fixed your face when toji opened it and appeared in the threshold. seeing you at his doorstep was the last thing he wanted. you were not, you were never supposed to be at his house. he froze up.

how in the fuck did you get his address?

"why are you here?"

you frown at his question and then smiled sheepishly. "i thought you would be happy to see me."

toji grumbled, "happy? y/n have you lost your fucking mind? you show up to my house, i don't even know how you got my address, and you expect me to be happy to see you?"

"toji listen. i want to-"

"what do you want?"

you falter on your words to him when he responded to you so dismissively. he was talking to you like you were a stranger on the street. not some woman he's been sleeping around with for several months. taking them on trips, frequently having sex with them and filling their head up with nothing but out of reach dreams.

in your hand you held the gift box. you handed it to him. toji took it from you, a confused expression on his face, until you told him to open it. which he did. he pulled off the lid and saw a positive pregnancy test in a velvet bed in the small gift box.

a positive pregnancy test.

you had a positive pregnancy test.

you were pregnant.

on your face was a wide cheerful smile however toji's was unreadable. it didn't show anything. it was emotionless. he was just staring blankly at the pregnancy test in his hand.

"isn't this great toji? you and i, we can-"

"get rid of it."

you pause. "w-what?"

"i said get rid of it."

you shook your head at him and you could feel a pain throbbing in your chest. "no... no i-im not getting rid of our child-"

"how do you know if it is mine?"

was he really? you had a look of disbelief on your face. did he just say that he wasn't the father of your child? he was the only man you slept with! you weren't a whore!

"honey, i need your help putting the kids to sleep." toji's wife called out from behind. thankfully she couldn't see you due to toji's tall and bulky figure. "megumi wants you to read him a story and i have to finish tsumiki's bath."

your eyes widen.

did she just say kids?

toji replied, "i will be right there honey. i gotta take a quick smoke." he walks out the door and shuts it behind him. gently he guides you to your car the pregnancy test he handed it back to you. "you have to go now y/n."

"t-toji no. n-no toji you are not doing this to me. no! no! you can't do this to me! you can't!" you wailed as he opened your car door and gestured for you to get in. you shake your head. "im not leaving! you-you can't make me leave!"

suddenly toji jumps at you and grabs you by your shoulders. he shakes you as he snapped, "listen to me and listen to me right now. this thing we have between us it's done. we're done. tomorrow morning i want for you to grab your shit out of my company and i want for you to leave. i already have a wife and two kids. i don't need another one floating around especially with you." he shoves you into your driver's seat after he utters, "i will send you the money to get rid of it in the mail. don't ever show up to my house like this again y/n. from this day on, i want for you to act like i never existed." he slams your driver's door shut.

toji walks up the stairs of his family's home. the last thing you see is toji's back before he shuts the door and the outside lights are turned off. you're left sitting in your car in his driveway feeling hopeless.

damn it. something told him he shouldn't have gotten involved with you. you were doing fine at first in the fling. toji didn't really care too much about your attitude when it came to his wife showing up at his office sometimes. though when you started changing up by becoming moody he should have known you changed. that little explosion you had with him showed that something wasn't right. and he found out in the worst way.

he didn't believe you were pregnant with his child. and even if you were toji didn't need to be the father to a third child. he didn't, he just couldn't. that would look bad on him. toji fushiguro had a baby with his secretary despite being lawfully married to the daughter of the best district attorney? the news would be making headlines all around the world.

your pregnancy would tarnish his company's reputation. it would ruin his second marriage. it would make his children disappointed in him. so many bad things could happen.

toji had to let you go. he had to when his wife discovered the claw marks that he told you not to fucking leave on his back. you almost got him into a world of shit had he not convinced his wife to stay with him. if she went to her father and told him about what toji did, toji would be dead. a district attorney could easily make a big name like toji fushiguro vanish.

"honey megumi is waiting for you to read him a book."

toji turns his attention to his wife and sweetly smiles at her. he walks up to her, kisses the side of her head, prior to going up the staircase to go read his son a book to sleep.

...

nine to ten months later you give birth.

it's a healthy baby boy.

he's so beautiful. he looked just like him. the tuft of dark hair and a birthmark on the side of his lip. identical to the scar his father had.

"have you decided on what to name him miss?" the nurse asks you.

you look down at your newborn son. your thumb caressing his cheek and you smile lovingly at him.

"i want to name him unmei."

the nurse looks at you worriedly. "um, ma'am that name... it is."

"i know what it means. i want to name him that. his name will be unmei y/l/n."

they hand you the birth certificate and you write his legal name on the document. you hand it back to the nurse and they leave to go enter it into the database. you're left alone with your son. you gently rock him, noticing how quiet he is despite being a newborn.

"you're a beautiful boy. you are going to be a strong boy. i just know it."

you will be fine. your son will be fine. you didn't need toji.

if toji can have his blessing then you can have his curse.

demie: MY GOD. THIS WAS THE MOST DARK, MOST SAD, MOST LIKE....IDK WHAT SHIT I WROTE EVER IN MY LIFE. pls let me know what you thought of this in the comments!!!

[jnnul]

five questions

a/n: and here is the first of the wips! i know this was supposed to come out on friday and now it's almost wednesday but it's out and that's worth something, right? i hope you love this little fluff piece + mark as much as i do!

word count: 5.1k

tags: finance bro mark and y/n, slice of life, mostly fluff, kinda your typical suburban modern day couple, idk they’re just good ppl who experience a slow and sweet romance, oh! and mark sucks at beer pong

sorry, is this seat taken?

you pride yourself on not being a very superficial person. you always look deeper into a person of interest and in the past, your friends have made fun of you because you never seemed to find the people they thought were attractive very hot at all.

he seems like he swears at his mom. they give off the impression that they are rude to waitstaff. i don’t care how hot she is, she’s literally fighting with a customer service worker for no reason.

did it mean that your ability to look past superficial identity led to you giving some pretty sketchy people second chances? maybe. but usually, it did more good than harm.

but for all of your in depth thinking, you realize that you’re just as superficial as every last one of your friends when the man of your dreams asks you to marry him.

what he really says is, “is this seat taken?” but it all sounds the same when you’re half in love.

with dark eyes that are bright and shine with innocent curiosity, slender lips with a slight pout, and tousled black hair that falls into his eyes, you realize this man looks like nothing short of an angel.

you stutter out a squeaky, "no, go ahead!" before moving your laptop a little closer to you so that the hot stranger could have space to put his things down. he offers you a sweet smile before sliding into the seat next to you.

"my name is mark, by the way," he says once he's settled into his seat. he's about to ask your name but he nods to the keychain that's attached to your lanyard. "i'm guessing your name is y/n? that's a cute keychain."

"yeah," you say, flipping the keychain so that mark could see it properly. "one of the kids i teach made me it a couple years ago and i've carried it around ever since."

mark's eyebrows furrow at that as he checks his calendar to make sure that he's in the right class. "you're an education major? what's an education major doing in a business statistics class? this class is an upper level business class i thought?"

you nod and close your laptop so that mark could see the sticker on the backside of your laptop. you point out the biggest one that has 'ucla - anderson school of management' written in bright yellow letters. mark's eyebrows knit as he reads it and you can't help but laugh softly at how utterly confused he looks.

"i'm a finance major. i just really like kids so i spent last summer juggling between an internship at apple and volunteering at a learning summer camp for kids who are underprivileged in education," you explain, watching as mark's confusion turns to awe, his dark eyes glinting as you explain.

"damn. that's so cool of you, y/n. i'm sorry i assumed you were an education major. turns out you're just an angel instead," mark says, almost offhandedly. you freeze at the last sentence and immediately, mark's ears turn bright red as he realizes what he had said.

you to turn to face forward as mark rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and if you weren't so damn flustered, you would take a picture of how incredibly cute he looks.

mark had pretty privilege, as far as you were concerned. if any other person said that, you would probably just laugh it off and thank them but a single comment from mark had you blushing and internally combusting. the worst part? you didn't even mind it.

the two of you are silent for another couple minutes before you turn to him once more, a corner of your lips tilted upwards, a teasing look in your eyes.

"you know i definitely don't mind being called angel by a pretty boy," you say casually. you try not to let your voice give away how nervous mark actually makes you but there's still a little shake when you say the word 'pretty'. because really, mark was so pretty. just...too pretty to be good for your heart.

it doesn't really matter though because mark looks at you like you've personally put the stars in the sky.

"you think i'm pretty?" mark says, his voice soft and tentative. you look at him strangely. surely he had heard that many times over the course of his life? why did he sound so surprised?

"i think you're very pretty, mark," you say matter-of-factly. mark wants to say something else but everyone has filed in and it seems as though the professor is starting the lecture soon as the lights begin to dim in the hall.

mark has heard that he was attractive many times before. in fact, he'd probably become synonymous with the word handsome, as his superlative in high school was 'most likely to become a famous singer' and 'most likely to win prom king'.

so why did his heart flutter so much when you called him pretty?

can you help me with this one?

turns out, mark is shit at statistics. he's great at the business part, as you have learned over the past three weeks of sitting next to each other and working on the practice problems together. but the actual statistics? you might as well be working with a victorian child.

"i still don't understand why you can't just assume that this condition applies in all scenarios," mark says as he reads through the question once more. the two of you had grown pretty close over the past month or so, and often, you would go to the library after class to work on the assigned homework or projects together.

mark was a good study buddy (he always brought good snacks) and he had a great work ethic that made you feel guilty about not studying when he was. not to mention that he was gorgeous eye candy to look at whenever you needed to take a break from your work.

which was pretty much all the time if it meant looking at mark lee a little while longer.

your friends had teased you when you described your encounters with mark thus far. although they never really crossed the line between platonic and romantic relationships, just the fact that you were practically dying of anticipation was enough to rile your friends up.

you had had a few partners in the past but most of them ended at the situationship stage - very few of them become actual relationships. so, you had put a pause on dating for good (much to the dismay of your gossip mongering best friends) and had been happily single for the past year or so. unfortunately, that was when you met mark lee and your heart decided to rebel against all sense of logic.

besides his pretty face (your friends were very surprised to hear that you had developed a crush on a good looking man for once; you had a seriously incriminating track record), mark lee had a pretty heart. he was so incredibly humble and kind to everyone he knew - which was a lot of people, as you came to learn. he was super friendly and great at remembering little details about people that made them feel as though he truly cared about them.

which he really did. it seemed like mark truly cared a lot about every single one of his seemingly thousands of friends and went out of his way to make them feel loved. for you, however, it seemed like he went above and beyond.

it seemed as though after mark (and you, really) had gotten over the initial shyness and awkwardness, the two of you were rarely seen apart. you weren't sure if the two of you were toeing the line of romantic relationship yet, but it just felt like you guys were having fun. even without a label or anything, you and mark tended to gravitate towards each other in social situations and even made consistent efforts to see each other outside of your respective friend groups.

for example, you really didn't belong in the frat scene. you had expended all of the energy and patience you had for frat house parties during your freshman year and quite frankly, as a junior in college, it felt kind of embarrassing to go to them without having any real connections to brothers themselves.

but mark was a brother in nu chi theta so within the first month of your friendship, you found yourself at the NCT house with a red solo cup and an uncomfortable top on.

"hey y/n! i'm losing over here! can you help me with this one?" mark calls out from behind you. you turn around to see him extending a ping-pong ball (that smelled like it was coated in beer, vodka, and...laundry detergent?) in your direction. you look to see if your friends, who you had dragged along to the party, were going to save you from death by beer pong but you're on your own when you see two of your friends making out with the same boy.

you would stop them but the image was far too gruesome and downright hilarious. and in their drunken state, you doubted you could really separate the lovebirds (?) anyway.

"alright, but it's gonna cost you, lee," you sigh dramatically, setting your cup down on the counter before accepting the ping-pong ball, your fingers brushing over mark's.

"name your price," mark says confidently as you line up your shot, ignoring the heat that radiates off of mark's body as you realize that mark was a lot closer than you had previously anticipated. his words sink into your skin and you involuntarily shiver when you feel his breath on your neck.

"hmm...i'll have to think about it..." you trail off, finally throwing the little ping-pong ball into the cup. you turn so that your chest was pressed against mark's front and all your thoughts have been replaced by the look of his eyes in the dim lighting. the words tumble out of your mouth before you even realize what you're saying.

"go on a date with me?"

your heart drops as you see mark's face turn from confusion to shock and then back to confusion. he rubs his neck awkwardly (a habit, you had noticed, that tended to present himself when he felt particularly confused) as he licks his lips nervously.

"was...was us hanging out everyday not...dating? i kinda thought we were already going on dates," mark mumbles, his cheeks flushed. you stare at him and a strange gurgling laughter rips out of your mouth before you clamp your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide in horror at the sound that came out of your mouth.

"does this mean you like me?" you ask, and once again, you're graced with the sight of mark lee looking just all too angelic under the strobe lighting as he nods before tentatively making eye contact with you.

"uh...if you asked me on a date, am i safe to assume that you like me too?" mark proposes and the way that he says it, almost like he was presenting a business pitch to a potential investor, makes you laugh once more as you lean a little closer to mark, your lips barely brushing against his.

"more than you realize, mark."

can i come inside?

the first time mark came with you to help out with the kids at the school, it was completely unexpected. another one of the student teachers had suddenly fallen ill (you found out a few months later that at his girlfriend's baby shower that he was not, in fact, sick) and no one else was available to help out.

your supervisor was a sweet old lady who was dedicated to helping as much as she could before 'her joints gave up on her' - which meant that oftentimes, she tried to take on more responsibility than she really could. and then that meant that she often didn't hire enough staff to keep the place running, hoping that she could do all of the administrative things herself so that all of the people who did come in could focus on working with the kids. needless to say, as one of the only volunteers who had been with the organization for more than four years, you knew more than well that the sweet old lady needed more people to help her out.

so, you forced your boyfriend of three years to help you out. well, not really forced. mark had the day off from work because it was the day before july 4th and really didn't have any plans for the day. so when mrs. varghese calls you frantically at nine o'clock the previous night, mark offered to come with you.

"we've been together for the past three years and we've been living together for the past one and a half. i lose my girlfriend every monday and thursday evening to kids. i gotta meet the little suckers who've been monopolizing my girlfriend." which was mark's stupid way of saying i love you. let me help you out a little bit. let me be part of your world. maybe in the disney princess way.

and you're a sucker for kids and your boyfriend, even after dating for three years, so you agree and the next day, you're piling into the passenger seat at seven in the morning to teach young children addition and subtraction.

not really how the two of you (mostly mark) were planning on spending on of your rare days off but you could never deny mrs. varghese of anything. especially if it meant more time with the kids.

mark always joked about how you should've become a teacher but as much as you loved the children and the interactions with them, you were not a fan of the underpaying salaries. so you made it a point to become successful in your career and dedicate a percentage of your paycheck to donate to the school you volunteered at instead.

which had caused some struggles when you first moved in with mark, given that it was only the two of you rather than you living with three of your friends and your share of the rent went higher. but you figured it out and mark definitely wasn't the type of person to hold it over your head that you weren't able to pay your full share of rent for the first two months.

because that's just who he was. he would cover for you, covering up all of the little parts of yourself that you didn't like. and you would help him see that those blemishes he thought he had were just things that made him more lovable to you.

so when mark steps into the little school and immediately, kids are swarming to the two of you, trying to find out who the attractive boyfriend was, you're not even surprised. mark had a natural, comforting air about him (not to mention the fact that the kids were overly invested in your personal life) that made people want to draw to him like moths to a flame.

in fact, he's so overwhelmed by the love that the kids are showing him, he's still hovering around the door awkwardly, semi-bowing to mrs. varghese, who's watching him with amusement.

"can i come inside?" mark asks, trying to take a step forward while not hurting any little kids. you snort at his awkward shuffle before clapping your hands together, taking it upon yourself to relieve your poor boyfriend from the possibility of death by enthusiastic children.

"can you or may you?" mrs. varghese says with a humorous smile and mark's eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the question. the kids are slowly making their way over to you, where you're starting to distribute fruit pouches as a morning snack and mark finally feels as though he's only carrying his own body weight - as opposed to ten other children's.

"it was 'can i' at first but now i think it's more of a 'may i'. mrs. varghese, i presume?" mark says, extending his hand for the old lady to shake. she just looks at it strangely before gathering mark in a tight, bone-crushing hug.

for such a frail old lady, she had a lot of strength.

"get out of here with those manners. y/n's told me a lot about. and anyone in y/n's corner is family here, alright?" mrs. varghese says, and mark has to blink furiously to push back the tears, although he can't really tell why her words are hitting him so hard.

"thanks."

you mean that?

mark was really easy to love. that's just the type of person he was. in everyone else's eyes, he was a good guy who just always tried to be better at the things he was already incredibly good at. he was always polite with strangers, babies cooed at him, and was the type to be the person to start a 'pay-it-forward' queue whenever he could afford to do so.

and for all of his perfectness, mark was a very flawed man. he was a little bit of a miser - he hated to spend money on himself, even if he would splurge a little more on you. he was a little bit on the insecure side, and no matter how many times you told him that you loved him all the more for his quirks, he still got down about it. mark was also really bad at communication when things made him upset. he was just so easy-going that he would let the smaller things accumulate and build until he's practically bursting.

and mark was kinda mean when he got angry.

he would never hurt you, of course. mark didn't think he could ever live with himself if he knew that he had laid a hand on anyone - but you in particular. and he really, really was trying to work on his communication skills so that he wouldn't let it build and then get so angry.

but when mark got angry, he seemed to just turn into a different person. it had only happened once in your relationship before, almost right after you had moved in together

it was about something incredibly stupid but the tension had been building for a while prior to that. technically, before you moved in, the apartment had been mark and one of his friend's, johnny seo from school, before johnny had moved out to move in with his own girlfriend. and mark and johnny weren't exactly...the cleanest people. you didn't really mind the mess but soon it turned into an unhealthy balance of mark leaving things around the house and you having to clean up after him.

not to mention that a lot changes when a couple moves in together. naturally, tensions were running a little high. for all your cleanliness, you had a really bad habit of leaving unfinished meals in the fridge until they went bad and started to smell, which made mark upset because that was a waste of a valuable meal. and so on and so forth.

one day, the tensions just burst and the two of you ended up in a screaming match going back and forth and back and forth about cleanliness and not eating properly and soon, it escalated from a conversation about living together to being together in the first place.

mark regretted it almost immediately, cursing himself out when he saw you just completely shut down in front of his eyes. he knew his anger got the best of him sometimes, and when he was in the moment, all he could think about was winning the argument, no matter what he needed to say to win.

that had been the worst fight you've ever had. after that fight, you got a lot better about portioning your food to eliminate leftovers and mark made a more conscious effort to clean up. you also started talking more to each other about what things did or didn't make you happy.

but even as mark was getting better at communicating with you, he still didn't know how to raise up issues with you. usually, you would tell mark what you were up to and then you would naturally ask him yourself if he was comfortable with what you were doing. he would then reply with a simple yes or no with an explanation and that would be the end of that. he always hesitated to raise up an issue with you though. he didn't want you to think that he was trying to control your life or be one of those possessive boyfriends.

one day, though, you were out clubbing with your friends (your friend had recently broken up with her fiancé and she really needed her girlfriends) and you had come home pretty late. mark had stayed up, watching a movie (barely), worried about you making it home safely because he knew that your friends were prone to trying to get you as wasted as possible.

mark never told you explicitly but you had a feeling that's how he felt. it frustrated you though that he never said anything to you and wait for you to bring it up to him instead. so that night, you decided to drink a little more than usual (but not as much as they tried to make you drink) so that you could finally, finally get mark to talk to you about his issues.

really, for your behavior, you were expecting to have a round two of what had happened when you first moved in with him. you were imagining a screaming match like no other but instead, mark just looks at you, sighs, and pulls you into a hug when you come stumbling through the door. confused, you begin to pull away, but mark just continues to hold you tight.

"i was so worried that you might not get home safe. and i promise we'll have a proper conversation about this when you're sober in the morning but i love you so much and...let's just talk about this in the morning, okay?" mark mumbles into your hair. you let mark just rock you gently side to side as he clings onto you, completely opposite from the reaction you were expecting.

"mark, i'm not drunk. i just...i'm tired of always being the one to bring up issues. i know that you don't like it when i get drunk outside because you're worried for me but i'd rather you tell me that than me having to guess that by myself. i can make my own decisions and i'm a big independent girl but you're the singular most important person in my life. i would never consciously do something to make you uncomfortable but i make mistakes sometimes. i need you to be open and honest with me when something makes you uncomfortable - because i know it takes a lot to get that far in the first place."

mark steps back to look you in the eyes, his eyes glittering in the shitty lighting of the apartment. "you really mean that?"

"i mean it with my whole heart."

do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?

mark tries not to trip. he tries really hard to hold in his sneezes, tears, and any other bodily fluids that are inappropriate for the situation. but the nearly fifteen feet from the entrance to the where the officiant is standing is enough to make mark want to puke all over the very expensive carpet you bought for the wedding.

when you first proposed having a backyard wedding, mark was extremely opposed.

a wedding was a once in a lifetime day where you could celebrate your union together with your partner and start the journey to the rest of your lives together. in fact, it was mark, not you, who had the pinterest board (although, to be fair, it wasn't actually a pinterest board and was rather just a folder on his phone of screenshots from pretty tiktoks). he had a vision for the wedding - one that included all members of your friend circle, your families, and your family friends as well.

and well, that wasn't really in the budget. rather than spend 100k on a one day event, you proposed having a backyard wedding that would be significantly more economical and using that 100k to buy a starter home.

"you still get your expensive venue and we have a place to move into. a real home that we can start a family in, mark," you had argued as mark paced back and forth in the small, almost cramped apartment the two of you shared. mark stops when he realizes that it only takes fourteen steps to make it from one side of the room to the other side and back.

and that was the biggest room.

so mark agrees on one condition: there are no lacking traditional elements of the wedding. the both of you worked together on the pain-staking process of planning a wedding that included portions of your culture and his culture to put on the wedding of a lifetime. hopefully the only wedding of your lifetimes.

well, the only wedding for you and mark, at least. but that was about the future and in the present, mark can barely keep from keeling over right there at the beautifully decorated altar that you and your mother had spent hours on.

after so long of being together, mark can't help but feel just so incredibly lucky and overwhelmed to be finally marrying you. you. the person of his dreams. the person who taught him that love isn't always fireworks and euphoric thrills; that love can be huddling together when gas bills were too high to pay and wanting nothing more than to see your significant other when it's been a long day.

love was you and mark really, really can't wait to finally show the world how much he truly loved you.

unsurprisingly, mark almost cries when you finally enter, the picture of the stunning bride as you clutch your father's arm for the last time as y/n l/n instead of y/n lee. mark isn't sure the last time he saw you this nervous but when you meet his eyes, he can feel the rest of the world melt away.

just normal people with enough love to fill the world, is what you say in your vows. just a guy and a girl in the same business class who never travel business class because the two of you are such money minders - something that my soon to be husband has rubbed off on me.

"i will never forget the moment that i knew i was so irrevocably love with mark. it was two days after we fought for the first time. i remember that i was so incredibly angry and scared that that fight would be the end of y/n and mark. that i would have to move out and redownload tinder and just be miserable again for losing one of the best things in my life over a little sock in the wrong place and leftover pizza."

"but two days after we fought, mark came up to me, hugged me and just said, 'we're gonna get through this. i love you too much to not get through this.' and even though everything just seemed so uncertain, the moment mark said that, i knew instantly that we really were going to get through it. because mark had faith in us. and i have faith in us. i love you, mark lee. from the moment you sat down in that ucla business class. i have loved you for so long and i will continue to love you forever."

there isn't a single dry eye in the house (quite literally) after your vow. mark has to clear his throat four or five times before he can start his vows, too afraid that his voice would give out on him in the middle due to how much emotion he was feeling.

"y/n, you asked me one day when we were binging american horror story and pigging out with a family sized bag of chips when i started falling in love with you. and i couldn't answer then so i just said that for as long as i can remember. and that's true - i still don't know when i fell in love with you. i just remember that one day i woke up alone in bed (don't worry mr. l/n, i have never slept in a ten mile radius of your daughter...please don't make her divorce me) and thinking that i would rather wake up next to you instead for the rest of my life."

"but i do know when i realized you were my soulmate. five moments when i knew i found the one. when i asked you if i could sit down next to you in business class. when i asked you to help me with statistics because for being a business major, i'm horrible at math - go figure. when i volunteered with you for the first time with mrs. varghese. mrs. varghese! - where are you - mrs. varghese! may i marry y/n? then i'll be real family."

mrs. varghese blows into a handkerchief unceremoniously, waving mark off through her tears, making the crowd and you laugh a little. mark's smile grows when he sees you laugh and continues on nervously.

"and the fourth moment was the time when you gave me a reality check. when you reminded me that love doesn't work without communication. you've changed me so much for the better, y/n, and i truly could not thank you enough for it. so, i have one last question for you. one last moment for me to know that we're soulmates."

mark takes a deep breath, holding one of your hands in both of his as he looks at you with soft eyes, so filled with love that your breath catches in your throat. "i promise to love you and stand by you for as long as i breathe. can you - can you promise...do you promise to love me for the rest of our lives?"

it seems as though everyone in the venue is holding their breath before you press a sweet kiss to mark's cheek and say the words that everyone has been waiting for.

"i do."

and with those five questions, mark lee had found his soulmate.

[raihann1]

just saw your Halloween post and decided on something very silly also yes, fuck the calendar.

So maybe we can have a Jason, candypop, and laughing jack (together) with a s/o and going candy shopping?

🍭𓈒⟡HALLOWEEN SERIES: GOING CANDY SHOPPING WITH L/J, CANDYPOP AND JASON✶.˚⟡˖

Prompt: 13

Characters: Candypop, Laughing Jack, Jason the Toymaker. Am not very familiar with candypop or Jason so I tried my best!

---------------------------------------

"When will we be there Y/N?" Jason said annoyed as he grimaced at the two "clowns" behind him.

"I don't know!? It says we have to turn right?.." They said eyeing their google maps suspiciously, how hard can finding a Target be?!

"FUCK YOU!" Laughing jack said glaring at Candypop.

"Okay."

🧍‍♂️

"What?..what did I say guys?" Candypop said raising their eyebrows.

"Hm, seems you can't even tell how stupid you really are." Jason said sighing as he adjusted his hair.

"Says the guy who makes toys." Says Laughing jack.

"Says the kid toucher." Jason said.

....

"Okay can we like, shut up? I really want that damn candy."

"Canabolism." You said

"What?"

"Nuthin."

---------------------------------------

"FINALLY!" you said stopping the car.

"So how many people did we run over?" Laughing jack said smiling.

"Uh I counted like 4 mailboxes maybe a squirrel." Candypop said proudly.

"Wow congratulations you can count!" Jason said sarcastically.

"so whats on the list Y/N?"

"Uh, just 3 bags of assorted candies." Y/n said reading off their phone.

"Ew, factory candy." Jason said sneering.

"All candy is made from a factory!" Candypop said smirking.

"Even you?" Laughing jack said.

"Haha, so funny am shaking in my boots." Candypop said narrowing their eyes.

"Your not even wearing boots."

🧍‍♂️

----------------------------

"Hey cool costumes!" A tiny child said.

"Can I." Laughing jack said tilting his head.

"No." Y/n said pushing the cart into the building.

"I just realized, we look like we just escaped a crazy circus." Candypop said staring at the people.

"Just. Just get the damn candy!" Y/n said annoyed.

---------------------------------------

"Okay did we ge-"

"What?"

"Jason, those are not edible those are erasers."

"No wonder theres only 3.."

"I got it!" Laughing Jack took 2 large bags out of his shopping cart, assorted candies.. good.

"Cleanup on aisle 4" a womans voice said.

"Wheres candypop?" Y/n said raising an eyebrow.

"Cleanup on aisle 5"

"Cleanup on aisle 7"

"Hey guys! I got candy!" Candypop said running out the door.

"Uh.. so did any of you bring money or?"

"No."

"I guess.. we run?"

"Yeah no shit!"

---------------------------------------

Hope you liked it!

Request always open!

[pikaflute]

hey everyone!!!! guess who's birthday is today! superball's!!!!! yay!!!!! i wrote a little thing for him centered around his birthday and unlike sam's birthday it isn't sad. he's happy. he's thriving. he's joyful.

also this has flintball in it. you will enjoy my niche gay ship or ELSE. anyway happy birthday superball!!!!

It honestly slips Superball’s mind that it’s his birthday. He’s had a lot on his plate recently with work; not to mention having to get his kids ready for the school year. So once he finally gets a moment to himself one Friday morning and looks over at the calendar he sees it's his birthday.

Hm.

Superball doesn't really have anything planned honestly. He stopped being excited for his birthday some time ago and usually the highlight of his birthday meant getting a cute gift from his son's or splurging extra during his dinner on a small treat.

As he's deciding between a slice of cake or a brownie: his phone rings. He picks it up and sees it's Max. Probably calling about his birthday no doubt. Despite the monotony of his life: his best friends really knew how to make it interesting.For better or for worse. Usually for the worse.

As Superball answers, he goes to say hello, but it's cut off by Max screaming on the other end.

“Superball! It's an emergency!”

Superball can vaguely hear someone in the background (possibly Sam) and something moving around.

“Uh-”

“Don't uh me! Get down here quickly,” Max pauses and then adds, “Love you bye!”

The line disconnects before Superball can even process what just happened. He sighs. Well his job never really truly ends it seems. Even on his birthday.

-- this is a line break :P --

He's expecting the worst when he gets to Sam and Max's place. Granted: he always is. He doesn't know why the two naturally attract chaos and misfortune wherever they go, but at this point he's too far deep and he's not going to question it. The lights in their office are off so he can't see where the two are at the moment. Usually, he'd knock and wait; but Max did say it was urgent, so he forgoes the pleasantries and opens the door and enters the room.

“Sirs, I got here as quickly-”

Suddenly, the lights turn on and he hears a loud popping noise. Confetti fills his vision as it falls on top of him as Sam and Max stand in front of him: wearing party hats while holding party poppers.

“Happy birthday!”

Superball looks around the room. Among the…. questionable design of Sam and Max's office: there's party decorations. Balloons fill the corners of the rooms and streamers are haphazardly thrown on top of the fan in the center of the room. On their couch are a couple of multicolored boxes that Superball guesses are probably gifts for him. Finally, there's a rainbow banner hanging above their closet that reads ‘Happy Birthday!’.

“Ah. So this was the emergency.”

“Well, I couldn't tell you it was for your birthday, it would ruin the surprise!”

“Plus, I already had to stop him from setting the decorations on fire three times. So, we really needed you down here before the fire department came knocking.”

Superball smiles. He knew out of anyone Sam and Max would remember his birthday but he didn't expect them to do this for him. It was rather touching.

“I’m surprised you did this for my birthday, sirs.”

“Of course we did! You’re our best friend!”

“Plus, Max always wants the excuse to blow something up.”

Max rolls his eyes, “I don’t need an excuse. It just looks better on paper if I set something on fire for someone else.”

Sam smiles and pats Max on the head. He then reaches into his coat and pulls out a party hat (the same one he and Max are wearing) and puts it on Superball.

“Now you’re all festive.”

“Thank you sir. I feel festive.”

Sam smiles and pats him on the shoulder, “Also hope you don't mind holding the fort down for a few minutes. We gotta pick up your cake.”

“Ah you don't need to-”

“Don't get it twisted Superball,” Sam points at himself and Max, “It's mainly for us.”

“Also we tried to bake you a cake but Sam ate it.”

“I didn't. He decided to eat all the raw eggs and the cake batter before I could even think about getting a cake pan out.”

Max elbows Sam's shin, “Why am I the bad guy here? You ate that cake batter!”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I would never lie to Superball. Unlike you.”

Max bites Sam in the leg. Sam kicks him off and into the corner. Superball shifts around awkwardly and lets out a cough to get Sam's attention.

“Uh. So. That cake.”

“Oh,” Sam looks like he suddenly just remembered the original point of the conversation, “Yeah! We'll be back soon!”

Sam goes over and picks Max up by one of his ankles and Max lets out a ‘wee!’ as Sam swings him around as they leave the office. As Superball goes to brush the confetti of himself, he's stopped by someone's hand on his shoulder. He tenses up and tries to throw the assailant off of him, but he stops as he turns around to see Flint. Why can no one he's friends with (or in this case: dating) greet him like a normal person? As Superball relaxes under Flint touch, Flint lets out a sigh.

“Jeez, you always act like I'm going to hurt you or something.”

“I've seen the way you deal with clients.”

Flint rolls his eyes, “That's a gross mischaracterization, Supes. I'm way more complex than you give me credit for.”

“Sure.”

Flint opens his mouth to say something back but he looks around the room and notices all the decorations.

“Who's birthday is it?”

“Mine.”

There's a moment of silence between the two before Flint lets go of Superball. He then punches Superball in the shoulder. Ow. Superball frowns.

“See this is why I'm tense around-”

Flint cuts him off, “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”

Superball shrugs, “It slipped my mind. I didn’t even realize it was September already.”

“You know how shitty of a boyfriend I look if I don’t get you something?”

“I don’t want anything. I’m perfectly fine with what I have right now.”

Truth be told, he's still happy from the surprise he just got from Sam and Max. But even beyond that: he has a good life. He has some great friends who like him, he’s finally able to see his kids and spend some time with them again, his job hasn't been too stressful as of late, and despite Flint's eccentric demeanor: he's not that bad of a boyfriend. 

For the first time in a long time: Superball is happy. He couldn't ask for anything more than that. 

Flint, however, remains unconvinced. He just gives Superball a smile.

“Yeah that's just what people say. I'll get you something. Give me twenty minutes, tops.

“Really Flint it's fin-”

Flint cuts him off again, “Too late! Made up my mind! See you soon!”

And with that, Flint's out the door as quickly as he entered and Superball is left alone again. He sighs as he sits down on the couch. They're lucky he's used to waiting by a door doing nothing all day; otherwise he'd be pissed.

-- why the fuck does tumblr not let me do line breaks anymore --

“We're back!”

It takes about twenty minutes for Sam and Max to return with the cake. As Sam puts the cake on his desk, Max sits on the couch next to Superball and goes rooting around in the gift pile. Once Sam is done, he goes over to the couch, pushes Max aside to get a present, and then sits next to Superball.

“Do you know that he's banned from the five closest bakeries?”

Max finally grabs a gift from the pile and points it at Sam accusingly, “Oh Sam. We're banned from the five closest bakeries. Be proud of it.”

Sam leans over and flicks Max on the head, “I'm banned because of you moron.”

Max shrugs and then turns his attention towards Superball. He smiles with all of his teeth which would be deeply unsettling if Superball didn't know the little guy.

“Hi.”

“Hello sir.”

“Do you want your presents?”

“I'm assuming that's why we're on this couch sir,” Superball points at the remaining presents, “I'm assuming those are also for me.”

“Yeah but they're not from us. I think we're too poor for that.”

“They're from the rest of the gang,” Sam smiles, “They would've shown up but you know Sybil's got her kid and all and Momma Bosco has some seminar in Jersey. Plus I don't think our office is zoned for guys that had a dark dimension entity in their chest.”

Max grabs Superball’s arm, “And since they didn't show up, we get dibs on giving you our gifts first. Sucks to be them!”

A few years back, Superball would rarely get any gifts on his birthday. He may have gotten a small gift from his wife or something from work; but other than that? Nothing. 

Seeing that people went out of their way to remember him and get him something meant the world to him. Even if they weren't here the fact they still wanted to show their appreciation for him was making his heart melt. He doesn't like crying but he can feel the tears begin to form. He wipes his eyes and then looks at both Sam and Max before saying:

“Thank you sirs.”

“Okay enough waiting,” Max lets go of Superball’s arm and puts the gift in his hands, “Open my gift first!”

Superball looks down at the gift. It's a small box: poorly wrapped in a bright green wrapping paper. Superball rips open the paper and then opens the box. Inside are three wood carvings. One is of a dog, the other of a rabbit, and the final one is a horse. Superball takes them out of the box and looks closely at them. They're quite adorable.

“You made these?”

Max nods, “I'm getting good at wood carving. I'm like if Picasso never cut his ear off.”

Max always was the more creative of the two. Whenever Superball collected documents from the guy there would be small doodles of guys (usually senators Max didn't like) getting maimed by Sam and Max. It would be cute if it wasn't so gruesome. 

“I think that's Van Gogh.”

“Whatever,” Max points at the horse, “That's you by the way. I made all of us so you can have me and Sam wherever you go!”

Superball smiles, “That's quite touching. Thank you Max.”

“See that Sam? I'm quite touching.”

“You're quite annoying is more like it,”  Sam hands his gift to Superball, “Here Superball, open mine next.”

Superball places Max's wood carvings back in the box and places it on the ground. He then grabs Sam's gift, which isn't wrapped like Max's but is instead a long rectangular black box. Superball opens the box to a tie.

“Ah.”

It's a red tie like the one he's wearing now but instead of stripes it's got cute simplified versions of Sam and Max's faces on it. Superball looks over at Sam who's smiling.

“Cool right? I thought it would be fun to get you a new tie since you're always wearing that thing.”

“Don't you always wear the same tie?”

“Yeah but,” Sam looks embarrassed, “I also want you to have me and Max wherever you go, you know?”

As much as Sam teases Max all the time: the guy's a huge sap. He's always gushing about how much he loves Max or how much Max is his reason for living. The guy may have a short fuse but under all that was a guy who got sad at rom coms and cared deeply about the people around him.

Superball undoes his tie and places it on his lap. He then takes the new tie and puts it on: making sure it's tight enough and fits in his jacket. After he's done adjusting the tie he looks at Sam.

“Thank you for the gif-”

He's cut off by Sam and Max hugging him tightly. Ah. Well. He's not really a hugging person, but if it's with two of his favorite people on Earth? Well, he's not gonna say no to that. A few moments pass before Superball can feel his stomach growl. Hm. Maybe they should eat that cake soon. Once Sam and Max pull away, Superball gestures towards the desk.

“So. The cake.”

Max's eyes light up, “Superball you really get me.” 

“He's been eyeing that thing since we left the bakery. I'm surprised he hasn't pounced on it yet.”

“I have some restraint Sam, god.”

Sam laughs as he goes, “Do you?”

Suddenly, the office door opens. The three of them turn to see a very out of breath Flint Paper. He struggles to catch his breath as he holds out some paper in his hand.

“I. I got your present.”

Flint walks over to Superball and puts the paper in his hand. Max gets off the couch and jumps into Sam's lap, so Flint can sit down.

Superball looks down at the paper. He realizes that this isn't just any ordinary paper: these are tickets. More specifically tickets to a sold out Broadway show he's been dying to see for years. Even when he was president he couldn't get these tickets. He had given up all hope of ever seeing this show, so how the hell did Flint get these tickets?

“Flint. How did you get these.”

Flint just smiles, “I know a guy.”

Superball looks unconvinced. Flint may know a lot of guys from his line of work, but he's pretty sure Flint doesn't have exclusive access to Broadway. Otherwise, he would’ve started dating him a long time ago. A beat of silence passes before Flint speaks again:

“Alright fine,” Flint sighs, “There was a guy on seventh selling them for an arm and a leg. I just convinced him that his prices were unfair and he kindly gave me a discount.”

Which is Flint Paper code for: “You beat a man up for my tickets.”

“Hey. Scalpers are barely people. I'm doing the world a service by beating that guy up.”

“And,” Max butts in, “If you really think about it he could've done a lot worse!”

“See! It's fine.”

Superball looks down at the tickets again. You know for a man who claimed to be a shitty boyfriend: this was one of the most thoughtful things he's ever gotten. Flint may put on this tough guy persona, but Superball knows that he really cares underneath. Superball leans over and gives Flint a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for the gift.”

Flint's blushing now. It's adorable.

“Yeah don't uh. Don't mention it.”

Sam and Max both make a noise from behind Superball.

“That was gross.”

“You said it little buddy.”

Superball wants to mention how he's caught them kissing various times in numerous ways, but since he's in a good mood he doesn't. He instead turns around and smiles.

“I want my cake now.”

Max jumps off of Sam's lap, “Geez you give one guy a good birthday celebration and he gets demanding.”

“I know,” Sam gets up and walks over to the desk, “I think we spoil the guy too much.”

As they begin cutting the cake, Superball holds up the tickets to Flint.

“I noticed there were two tickets here by the way.”

Flint gets up immediately, “Oh wow. Would you look at that? I'm starving.”

And with that, Flint walks over to Sam and Max. Smooth. Real smooth.

Hm.

You know, despite claiming he wasn't that excited about his birthday anymore: he was thoroughly surprised how excited and happy he was after the little gift giving exchange. He knows it's a little silly to be this happy after a few gifts and some cake but could you blame him? It's nice to feel wanted and loved by people he cares about.

He looks over at the three of them and sees Flint laughing as Sam tries to wrestle Max away from his cake. They're a bunch of idiots sometimes. But they're his idiots. And as long he had them around all of his birthdays would be as great as this one.

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ SEPTEMBER 9TH — itoshi rin x reader. sfw. fluff. happiest birthday to my forever boy! can't believe i've been obsessed with him for a year ❤︎

september ninth. you’ve made a habit of circling the date on your calendar—drawing party hats and flying scribbles of confetti on it—for the past couple of years now. you make a big deal of the day but the man you’re celebrating doesn’t share the sentiment.

if anyone walking down the street beside you two looked at rin, they’d never guess that it was his birthday. there’s no excitement radiating off of him, not even a hint of a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. as far as he seems to be concerned, today is just another day.

rin has never been big on his birthday but you do find it a little strange that he hasn’t mentioned the occasion once since you met up with him this morning. you have an excuse for neglecting to tell him happy birthday earlier in the day, having planned a small surprise for the man who claims to hate them, though, you’d like to be sure it won’t interfere with a prior engagement of his.

“what are you doing when you get home?” you nudge rin’s shoulder with your own to punctuate the question. you hope it comes off as a casual conversation starter rather than an attempt at prodding for information.

“don’t know.” he usually ignores your antics, though this time rin mirrors your action, gently bumping his shoulder against yours. your lips twitch with a threatening smile at the rare reciprocation. “probably just eat dinner and watch a movie.”

it sounds like his typical routine when the two of you part ways for the evening. on one hand, that clears you to go through with your plans. on the other hand, it feeds your growing curiosity. has he really been navigating today as though there was nothing even relatively special about it?  

again, you try not to give away too much by pushing the issue while still learning more. “nothing else?”

“no.” his feet continue on their path but the man turns his head slightly to look at you. teal eyes bore into yours like they’re looking beyond the surface, deep into your mind. it’s difficult to tell if he’s onto you. “should i be doing anything more?”

you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “i guess not.” 

a moment passes before you’re no longer the subject of his gaze, his eyes looking forward once more. a tiny sigh of relief pushes past your lips, like his stare was a heavy weight that was lifted off your shoulders. “hey, can i join you for the movie?”

“knock yourself out.”

you grin at his words, though you didn’t think he’d decline your request. rin may seem outwardly unfriendly but, deep down, he has a soft spot and you’re one of the few people capable of reaching it. you’re about to tease him about the juxtaposition between his cold delivery and its underlying kindness when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

you and rin are stopped at the crosswalk waiting for the light to signal your turn when you pull out your phone. the screen lights up with a photo of the two of you; you with your tongue stuck out and rin holding up bunny ears behind your head. just looking at it brings back memories of the day and how much of a hassle it was to get rin to pose with you. despite his resilience, it worked out in your favor in the end and gave you your favorite picture with him to date.

you quickly remember why you brought your phone out, eyes dragging down the screen to read the notification banner. it’s a text reminder that the gift you ordered for rin is ready. you’ve been anxiously awaiting the message all day, hoping it wouldn’t arrive when he was looking at your phone. you discreetly glance up at him to see if he caught a glimpse of it, but his eyes are carefully watching the crosswalk lights.

“shoot, i forgot i have to go pick something up,” you blurt out, shoving your phone back into your pocket. your announcement gains rin’s attention and his eyebrow quirks in question. you don’t quell his curiosity, instead pointing your thumb over your shoulder in the direction you’ll be heading. “i’ll be over your place after—don’t start the movie without me!”

rin watches you rush off. he doesn’t have much time to wonder about how odd you’ve been acting before the crowd of pedestrians around him begins to move and he’s carried away with it.

you severely underestimated how hard it would be to single-handedly pull off a surprise party for someone you spend practically every waking moment with. there isn’t enough time in the day for everything you need to do. the sporting goods store and bakery are farther apart than you anticipated and it’s only after you’ve retrieved rin’s gift and cake that you realize you don’t have wrapping paper or candles. by the time you’re on your way home to prepare everything, the sun is beginning to set.

“all done!” you clap your hands together before resting them on your hips as you survey your work. the cake is still safely packed away in its box, a small pack of candles sitting on top of it. the present you bought for rin is neatly wrapped in the owl-patterned paper you couldn’t resist getting when you first saw it in the store. 

you’re sure you look a little frazzled after running around to put everything together but if you take the time to freshen up, you’ll be even later arriving at rin's place than you had originally planned. and, in all honesty, you’re too excited to wait any longer. rin surely won’t care if a few hairs are out of place on your head.

with that final thought, you gather up everything and start on your way to his apartment.

the knock pattern rin has come to associate with you sounds from the foyer, indicating your arrival. he was almost sure you had gotten caught up with whatever you ran off for earlier as it’s much later than he was expecting you. still, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that his heart felt lighter in his chest upon hearing the familiar noise.

there’s a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue when he reaches the door, though it dies there when he’s met with your image after pulling the door open.

with a smile that reaches your eyes, you hold up the cake carton by its handle and exclaim, “happy birthday!”

rin stands silent, still, before you. if it weren’t for his somewhat parted lips and slightly raised eyebrows, you’d think he didn’t hear you. something about the look of surprise written on his face cements your sneaking suspicions from earlier.

“oh my god.” you lower the cake to your side, brow furrowing with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. rin has never been big on his birthday but you didn’t think he cared this little about it. “did you seriously forget that it’s your birthday?”

rin presses his lips together and relaxes his eyebrows, returning to his usual, calm expression. it’s true, today’s date slipped his mind. he isn’t sure why you’re making a big deal out of it, though. because all he can think is, “it’s not like it’s anything sp—”

“ah-ah-ah! don’t you dare finish that sentence.” if you could hold up a finger to shush him, you would. your hands are full at the moment so you settle for letting yourself in, gently pushing past rin and haphazardly kicking your shoes off. your eyes meet his as you look over your shoulder. “there’s still a few hours left in the day so we’re spending the rest of it celebrating.”

you leave little room for argument and while rin isn’t particularly excited by the idea of his birthday, he’s willing to play nice—only because you put so much thought into it. so, without resistance, he closes the door and follows you over to the couch.

you’ve set everything on his coffee table by the time he plops down next to you. his eyes are drawn to the rectangular box wrapped in the paper printed with cartoon owls. you must notice his lingering gaze because when you speak up, you tell him, “go ahead, open it.”

rin’s movements feel slow and awkward as he reaches for the present. if he had to guess why, he’d put his money on the fact that you’re watching him so intently. the box is weighty in his hands. his fingers carefully peel up the tape in an attempt to preserve your wrapping efforts. the name of a brand rin recognizes is revealed once he gets past the decorative wrap. he lifts the box’s lid and beneath the thin tissue paper he pushes past is a pair of cleats—the exact pair he’s been thinking about upgrading to for a while now.

“you always have the tab open on your laptop so i figured i’d just buy them for you,” your voice sounds from beside him. rin turns his head to face you and is met with your sparkling smile. leave it to you to be so attentive. he supposes you always have been, but something about your show of it now makes his cheeks warm up. to hide the impending pink sure to blossom on his face, he turns to set the shoebox behind him.

when the warmth subsides and rin is sure you won’t have any reason to poke fun at him, he meets your gaze once again. “thank you. i appreciate it.”

you nod, a small smile still tugging at your lips. rin’s voice sounds the same as it always does; neutral, maybe even aloof, but you know he means his words. 

“okay, time for cake,” you announce, repositioning yourself on the floor and reaching out to open the box. pressing down the flaps reveals the bright green matcha cake topped with fluffy cream and fresh strawberries. “could you get a knife and some plates, please?”

rin nods and makes his way to the kitchen while you begin to strategically place the candles atop the dessert. once you finish your simple design—a little smiley face, you use the light he keeps on the coffee table for his scented candles to light the ones on his cake. right on time, rin returns. he sets the dishes beside the box and takes a seat next to you on the carpet.

“happy birthday, rin,” you tell him again, deciding to spare him the embarrassment he would most certainly feel if you chose to sing. “make a wish.”

in the past, rin would simply blow out the candles to satisfy the crowd—no wish involved. he’s always found the tradition a little childish but now, looking at the enthusiastic expression you wear, there is something that rin really wants. maybe it’s silly to leave it up to something so baseless as a birthday wish, but rin still thinks the thought before blowing out the flames. 

you clap and cheer at his action which earns a real, genuine smile from rin. it encourages you to ask, “gonna tell me what you wished for?”

he shakes his head. “isn’t that against the rules?”

“you got me,” you admit through a laugh, carefully grabbing the knife to cut rin a piece of cake. as you slice out a triangle, you go on. “well, whatever it was, i hope it was good. you shouldn’t waste a birthday wish.”

rin still isn’t entirely convinced of the magic of birthday wishes, but if there is any validity behind it, he definitely didn’t put it to waste. because he wished to spend his next birthday the same way—with you.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[fruitgummies01]

Thoughts on Jimin's name on JK's stomach and these moments right here from the behind the scenes content?

https://x.com/myhomeisjkjm/status/1841186841187258434

https://x.com/My2SeaOtters/status/1840806210783830207

Interesssssssting.... I feel like I should wait until I receive my photobook and see it all for myself before I actually review any of it, but since you asked lol.

Sucks that there is zero context for that picture of Jimin's name being written in sunscreen on JK's chest. Seeing how there was a short scene (was it episode 5?) of Jimin and JK playing with the sunscreen on their faces, I will just go ahead and assume that the same thing was happening behind the scenes in that picture too. If Jimin wanted to claim his man, who could blame him lol. I find it way more fascinating that most of the armys that are so quick to post shirtless pictures of JK, somehow did not get around to posting the one with Jimin's name on his chest. 🤔

And speaking of Tae. Those two clips, specifically the one with Jimin explaining how Tae suddenly joined the trip says so much tbh. I think it was sweet that Jimin at first tried to smooth it over by saying he knew Tae was busy with his solo activities and him not extending an invitation was not done intentionally (although um, I kinda think they did it on purpose, but won't get into that). Jimin specifically mentions asking the other members to come saying they were welcome, which weird because Namjoon would've been the only other member not enlisted at the time, so maybe that's what he meant? IDK, but if we follow their timeline, Tae found out two days before by seeing it on the group schedule/calendar, Jimin spent the night before Jeju at JK's house, and then all three came on the trip. I wonder if Jimin broke the news to JK during their sleepover that Tae was joining them haha. Also interesting that Tae specifically mentions being hurt by Jimin and doesn't say anything about JK, who is just kinda sitting there quietly not saying anything. I could read more into that, but I won't. 😅

If I had to guess, I would say I don't think Tae knew what show he was signing up for lol, hence why he asked why Namjoon didn't also come during dinner. He probably only saw that they were filming a show in one of his favorite places, didn't ask any questions about what the show was since he just wanted to be included, and just insisted on coming by calling up Jimin and saying he didn't want to be left out. Reality probably hit him once he was there what the vibes were (a lot of him feeling like a third wheel), which would explain him being on his phone a lot and going to play golf. Tae was probably grateful for the time they all spent together and the memories, but was very much over it by the end, and in his words was just trying to get to the plane 😭. Which I wouldn't blame him, it would probably be very annoying to be around two people with so many inside jokes and who talk in memes constantly lmao.

Again this was way longer than I was actually planning on writing (sorry lol), but I can't wait until my copy of Are You Sure photobook comes in the mail!!!

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Accidental Knight and the Time Travel Bodyswap

okay I'm on moble. So apologies in advance.

I recently found a fic on Ao3 about brozone swapping bodies with their younger-selves (specifically during the split up fight) with what I'm guessing is their post TBT selves. I link it when I have the time.

Here's my taken on this awesome concept. In the Field of Forgetmenots AU! Highly recommend looking at the posts for this au before reading on ward. You have been warned.

The plot starts with Floyd's POV. He's in the background of his brothers fighting after Branch's first show. Part of him wants to intervene but at this point he knows it will do nothing. He sees little Bitty standing off the side looking terrified, as he walks over to comfort the young trolling, his vision twists and blacks out. He comes too with a dirt ceiling overhead, with a numb body. He thinks he's been drugged by a crazed fan then kidnapped, and tries to get off the bed he's on only to fall to the floor when his limbs begin to burn with pain. He's found by a green trolling with blue hair and eyes, and he struggles on floor finally seeing the paleness of his limbs and paralyses he feels. A scarred dulled troll comes in. It takes a moment of his fussing for Floyd to realize that he's staring at his grown up baby brother. His grown up baby brother who lifts him with ease and sets him on the bed while checking over his body.

Branch was worried when Keith came running in saying that Floyd fell. The Knight had taken in his older brother (plus Clay) to help Floyd recover from the damage the diamond bottle did to him. Its been a few months and sadly Floyd is still weak and adjusting to the after effects. He can't walk, unable to keep himself warm, and has flare ups when his body re-crystalizes, that for all they know could be fatal. Not to mention, all the psychological damage the kidnapping did, and Floyd insisting that he's fine when he's really not. Needless to say, when Keith comes to tell Branch that Floyd is on the floor panicking, he reacts with urgency. The knight drops what he's doing (making breakfast), and rushes to tend to his brother he runs through all the checks, Flare up? Nope. Nightmare? Doesn't seem like it. He doesn't feel any injuries. However, Branch is extremely concerned when Floyd starts talking like he's confused about the date and how big Branch got. He makes a plan to take Floyd to the hospital to get checked out.

Let's switch gears over to Clay. He's first in heated fight with John and Spruce when his world becomes fuzzy and suddenly he's waking up with his face on top of a work desk. He jerks up, finding himself in an office. A boring office. A troll walks in, calls him "Mr. Clay" says their his assistant and ask if he's okay before telling him about Branch taking Floyd to to hospital so he might need to pick up Keith from school that day, then they leave. Clay is left with many many questions, but it's okay on top of sad books he's read many mystery novels he's fully prepared to handle this. If this was his office it had to have a calendar. He is not pleased to find the date is over twenty years passed what it was a few minutes ago. Then everything that the assistant mentioned settled. Floyd was in the hospital?! Branch had to take him? Branch could take him? And who the heck was Keith?! Why was Clay picking him up from school?! During this spiral, Who of all trolls walks in but Princess Viva (or Captain Viva as he would later learn she was called). Clay asks why she's here, and he learns that Viva heard about Floyd and thought to check in on her Boyfriend. That was not the answer Clay was expecting.

Flipping back to Floyd. Hospitals already freak him out, and now he apparently had a chronic condition, that doctors still weren't sure how it works. Even worse he can see how worried Branch is over this. As such he just doesn't mention the Time travel/amnesia thing going on. Last thing he needs is to stress it baby brother out, especially since it's obvious that Branch had been taking care of Floyd since the diagnoses that he can't remember. On top of taking care of a kid no doubt. Even if Floyd isn't sure how Keith is related to them (He doesn't call Branch dad or Floyd uncle, and doing the math it would mean that Branch would have to have had Keith while he was a teenager), it's clear that Branch is raising that kid. Branch's girlfriend (doesn't that just bring many colorful images to mind) meets them at the hospital. She takes over, calming Branch down easily, and talking to the doctors, who much too everyone's relief nothing physical has changed since Floyd's last appointment. Branch has to leave for work after that, but Poppy takes Floyd back to the hideout he suddenly lives in.

Clay is left reeling, through out the day he's trying to learn all about this modern day. He'd completely forgotten about needing to collect a trolling from the school until his assistant mentions it. He runs out of the admin building looking for the school. It took a nearly twenty minutes to figure out where the school was, and by the time he arrived the teachers were getting ready to look for either him or Branch. He apologize profusely, but thankfully the head teacher assumes his questionable behavior was due to Floyd being hospitalized. Then Clay is saddled with Keith, a little Green and blue trolling that the teacher calls his brother. Clay doesn't really know where Keith came from (he thought his parents were dead), but doesn't question it out loud. He's been a big brother before he can totally take this kid home...if he knew where his new home was. No one was living with grandma now, clearly. Thankfully, Keith knows the way. Clay tries to make conversation, but Keith only really either stares blankly or looked slightly confused. Geez, didn't that make Clay feel good about his relationship with this new youngest brother. Did he ever spend time with this kid?

They arrive at the bunker, finding Poppy and Floyd inside. Keith lights up as Poppy running over and beginning to tell her about his day. Clay however, doesn't pay much attention to this red-headed version of Viva, rather he hones in on his younger brother who's in a wheelchair and looks on the brink of death. Clay demands to know what happened, while Floyd tries to deflect saying weird dream. Clay knows he's lying right away. Thankfully Poppy has pulled Keith into the kitchen to start on dinner and homework. Clay comes clean about not remembering any of the passed 20 years, Floyd breaths a sigh of relief know that it isn't his sickness that caused the memory loss.

Clay: Do you know the kind of day I had? I'm a CPA! twenty years down the line and I'm a CPA, John would hate that! It's a boring job. But I love it. and I'm dating the crown princess apparently.

Floyd: You thought your day was weird? I can't walk Clay. I've been questioning my own sanity since i woke up. Because I have a TBI and could lose my mind any second.

Clay: TBI? How'd you get a TBI?

Floyd: I don't remember. Poppy and Branch have been tip-toeing around me having some sort of accident. But they won't tell me what. and I'm scared to ask because it would make me look crazy!

Branch would come home at that point. They both are surprised by the Forest Guardian Armor, and Clay even more freaked out seeing the scars, muted colors, and blinded eye that Branch was sporting now. Keith is over joyed and greets Branch warmly. It's obvious these two are close in ways that this grown up Branch isn't with his older brothers. Dinner is served but it doesn't comfort the elder two brothers.

Why don't we check in on Vacay Island for a second. Spruce one moment was fighting with john and the next wakes up one morning next to a Giant yellow woman, who claims to be his wife. Brandy immediately figures out her husband doesn't remember the last twenty years. She explains everything to him using family photos to prove everything. Spruce is lost in confusion, as he listens he had no choice but to believe her, he certainly wasn't in his teenaged body anymore. It hurts to learn that the last night he remembered was the night his family broke apart, and only after 20 years was his brothers comfortable enough to reconnect. Then Brandy mentions that Floyd was kidnapped....suddenly Spruce, or Bruce as Brandy tells him he goes by, needs to see his little brothers. Make sure that their all okay. Brandy agrees and he wonders how on earth his heartthrobness managed to charm his goddess among mortals.

And finally let's get to the eldest. John was in his grandmother's pod, terrified and angry, then he was waking up in a transportation critter in the woods. In the mirror his older self stares back, and he's scared all over again. Time has passed but he doesn't know why or how. Thankfully he finds the journals his older self kept. He spends the day learning what had happened over the passed 20 years. He breakdown when he reads the entry talking about the empty destroyed tree. Only to relax when he reads about the reunion and freeing Floyd.

Rhonda has been watching all of this and sneses something wrong with her owner, against his will she drives strait to troll village.

Once both him and Bruce arrive at the same time and end up explaining that both have the same memory loss. Shockley learning that both Clay and Floyd are the same. Grown up Branch is weird and it hurts to learn where the main scar came from. Floyd is horrifying to his older brothers, they just want to bundle him up and never let anyone touch him. they all talk in Floyd's room about what they need to to do to get their memories back...none of them notice Keith is listening from behind the cracked door.

Branch confronts them at dinner that night. It isn't pretty. Branch is not going to put up with the "We're trying to protect you" routine. And to their shock, takes charge of the room, saying that he and them already had that fight about that topic, and how he doesn't need them anymore. He had Poppy and Keith, and the only reason that Floyd is staying here because branch knows he can't take care of himself. He'll help them, but he won't tolerate arguing. they need to settle their teenaged issues with each other. Because if Keith has to deal with their fights like Branch had to endure, he'd kick them all out.

I'm not sure about how the ending would work yet, but all the brothers would be brought back to the moment they left. And vowed to stay together as a family. In one time line, Branch would have the brothers he deserved.

[pluckyredhead]

The Lost Titans in Canon: Jason and Eddie

Because I am very normal and VERY excited to finally start posting The Lost Titans on Monday (mark your calendars!), I'm also going to start doing some in-depth posts on the canon relationships between these characters. Some have a lot of history, some have only met in passing, and some (Koryak) have never been allowed to hang out with anyone outside of the ocean.

We're starting with Jason and Eddie, whose relationship is referenced in exactly two (2) comics, but it has me in a chokehold anyway.

The first of these is Blue Devil #19, where we learn that Jason and Eddie are pen pals:

THESE BABIES. I AM DYING.

(In case you can't read the cursive, Eddie's letter says "That jewel thief had been hitting the posh Rodeo Drive shops like clockwork - one every Saturday! So when I learned Miggles' was displaying the Star of Pakistan, it was an easy guess where he'd show up next!" and Jason's says "Dear Kid Devil, Thank you for writing to me! I think being pen pals is a swell idea and I'm looking forward to reading all about your adventures! But to start with, let me tell you about a case I'm working on right now...!")

It does sort of make sense that Jason and Eddie would have been teamed up, because they were pretty much the only kids in the DCU at this point - it was 1985, and the Titans were all around 18, while Jason and Eddie were like...12 or 13, maybe? And I genuinely can't think of any other kid characters from around that time.

Anyway, it is a very short story - only four pages - but it ends with the boys realizing they fought the same bad guy and teaming up to catch him:

I love how much shorter Eddie is than Jason. What a little nugget.

The only other reference to this friendship comes literally 22 years later, in Teen Titans #42, after Eddie gets his powers. While running over his origin, he drops this:

THAT'S RIGHT, EDDIE BLOOMBERG IS RIDE OR DIE AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT. Fun fact: Jason had actually come back from the dead two years before. It's unclear if Eddie knows that, because he uses the word "was" here - Jason did attack Tim in Titans Tower in #29, but that was before Eddie joined the team, so who knows?

Anyway, that's the Jason and Eddie friendship in canon! Now I am going to go back to writing letters to DC begging them to let these two team up again.

[meruz]

Lightbox Expo 2023 is over!! Thank you to everyone who stopped by the table. I can't believe I sold out of both my sketchbooks AND my digimon fanbook... (multiple prints too?!)! I'm incredibly grateful... I will have a 2nd print run of both sketchbooks and online orders for the digimon book up in the next couple weeks so please keep an eye out for that!

More gushing abt the weekend under the cut

I sell at an average of idk... 3-4 events a year? So I would consider myself a frequent congoer though not necessarily full time lol. I'm a little jaded like it's not that I don't enjoy going to cons but theres definitely a bunch that feel like just-another-con-weekend to me lol, sometimes it's more work than play I guess. But this con felt really different! For the first time in a while I left a convention feeling really thrilled and giddy that I had been there. The kind of feeling I used to get when I would table at anime cons in highschool! And I think a lot of that is the people I met and talked to and the overall vibes at the event. Oh also I literally just had surgery and going to this con is like the only thing ive done this week besides lay in bed and play Story of Seasons on the nintendo switch and I thought I would be in pain and miserable but actually I HAD SO MUCH FUN...!!!! even when i skipped after-hours socializing every night to go home early and sleep 12 hours lol. SO ANYWAYS. YEAH. IT'S CORNY. BUT I wanna say thank you again to everyone who stopped by the table. Especially all the coworkers and long time mutuals who I met in person for the first time this weekend!! And the long time followers who told me they have been following me since homestuck or naruto or whenever. And college classmates who I haven't seen since graduation, crazy talented underclassmen who I'd never met but stopped by to say hi... So many people who absolutely made my day. SPECIAL thank you to my table partner Emi who is the best and such a good sport and accommodating to the point that I feel ridiculous when she thanks me for anything. And um also thank you to the artists who were cool and nice when I went up to their tables and blurted out 24917596 compliments in rapid succession. or only got one really awkward compliment out to LMAO... I felt so inspired and awe struck by everyone's work! God it was just so cool to be there. I LOVE ART....

Ok yeah thats it. its been a while since ive written a post-con blog post so earnestly lol.. here's my obscene haul photo I was buying stuff at this con like I was dying and couldn't take it with me LMAO.

I'm not gonna go tag everyone because I don't think everyones on tumblr but if you dont mind doing a little google search legwork: big x-men prints from chase conley, prints from jacki li/bguavas, azusa tojo, xanthe bouma, nicodaboy, susan yung, hormstuck, nessa tweneboah, linda liu, ash tahilan, zines also from jason dwyer, ash tahilan, aprilyn cunanan, veggiecakeface, deb lee, dune5and, uhh yoichi nishikawa art book and parakid calendar, stickers again from ash, marie lum, hormstuck, chiou, and emi hartana/crowlets OKAY I THINK I COVERED EVERYTHING THANKS FOR READING

[lou-struck]

Ghost vs Monsters

Meguru Bachira x reader

Flufftober Day 2- Ghost Tour

WC: 2.5k

~You and Bachira  go on a tour of your city's "paranormal underground." But when your experience with the tour guide goes sour, he shows the group that it's not ghosts they should be afraid of, but Monsters.

~a/n: this one was challenging for me to complete but I did it! I had to cut it short because I have 31 of these to do and my imagination was working overtime.

It's one of those evenings where you aren't quite ready for dinner, but you are craving a little something to keep you going. That something… an egg on toast. 

Just as you slide the fried egg on top of the still-warm bread, two hands reach out from behind you to cover your eyes. 

Guess who?" a lovingly familiar voice coos from behind you, bringing a genuine smile to your face. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the voice belongs to your boyfriend, Meguru Bachira.

"Hmmm, is it the Pizza delivery guy?" You ask innocently, playing along with his usual shenanigans. 

"Nooo, try again.."  the soccer star chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. 

"Ghostface?" You say with a hopeful lift in your tone. This answer is nowhere near correct, but it sends him into a fit of laughter.

"No, but you would like that, wouldn't you?" he laughs softly into your ear as he spins you around. His cheeks are pink from the fall air, and he is still in his practice clothes, but you think he has never looked better. 

"How was practice?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his midsection. he hugs you back with all the strength of his right arm, but his left is tucked suspiciously behind his back. You can tell from the eager look on his face that he is hiding something from you.

As subtle as you can, you try and peek behind him. But you are no match for a professional athlete's agility; he seems to be three steps ahead of you, his eyes daring you to ask him what he's hiding. 

"What you got there?" you ask, finally giving up trying to outmaneuver him. His grin is victorious as he removes his arm and eagerly whips out a bent white envelope, holding it up in the air like it's a trophy. 

"Look what I won for us," he beams, lowering the envelope and handing it to you. You open the previously ripped seam and see that there are two long black tickets printed with bold white lettering.

'Admission for 1 to the Underground Paranormal Investigation Tour'

'Arrival time 9pm'

"What are these?" You ask, furrowing your brow as you read the address on the back of the ticket. You may not know many street addresses by heart, but you think that it belongs to one of the warehouses down by the docks.

"Aren't they cool?" He says with his usual elated grin. "I won them at the program's fundraiser the other day and finally got to pick them up. Have you ever been on a ghost tour?"

"No, I can't say I have." You admit, and you aren't sure that you would do this on your own. If the paranormal exists, it seems that voluntarily seeking it out is something straight out of a horror film,  but when you look at Meguru and see the excitement on his face, you know that you will be clearing your calendar for Friday night.

~

You've never been to a warehouse district at night, but the whole place is set up like some kind of sheet metal labyrinth; if it weren't for the smell of the salt and sea invading your nose, you wouldn't believe that you are so close to the ocean. The thick fog that rolls off the water doesn't help your visibility as Meguru leads you confidently through the alleys to the tour site, there is not a hint of fear or apprehension on his face.

"It looks like we are getting close. Are you scared yet, y/n?" he asks, giving your hand a squeeze. If it weren't for his constant touch, you doubt you would've made it this far, especially after researching the details of this tour…

After a little search of The Goog, you find out that this district is historic, and many years ago, the whole place was destroyed by a devastating fire. After the tragedy, the city just built on top of the ruins like nothing ever happened. Today, you two, aligned with your guide and a few other groups, will be exploring the underground tunnels that connect the surface to the old underground warehouse district's ruins.

To be honest, the idea of climbing down some kind of rusty metal ladder into god knows what is kind of freaking you out. Even if there aren't any ghosts in this tour, who knows what kind of rats or creepy crawlies are down there just waiting to lunge out and bite your ankles. 

"A bit," you admit. "I just hope we don't see any rats down there."

"If we do, could I keep one as a pet?" he asks, brightening up at the prospect. Before you can object, you come across a small group of people standing outside of the warehouse you are supposed to be meeting at. You can tell by the headlamps on their foreheads and their ghostbuster attire that they must be there for the tour, but you can't find anyone who looks official, like your guide."

"It doesn't look like our tour guide is here yet," you say to your boyfriend, who nods and looks around at the wannabe ghost hunters.

"It looks like we may be underdressed; I left the ghost vacuum in my other jacket." he chuckles lowly, nudging you softly with his arm. You struggle to contain your laughter when, suddenly, the static recording of a pipe organ begins to play. You look around just as thick fog pours out from underneath the partially opened garage doorway. It smells artificial and super stinky; you cough and cover your nose as your boyfriend tries to shield you from the putrid mist. 

"Oh boy, what do you think we've gotten ourselves into?" he asks, fully amused by the theatrics. Squinting your eyes, you see a figure, a grown man, squeeze himself between the pavement and the garage door just as the music dies out. 

He coughs and bats away the smoke around him as he steps into clear view of the crowd, dressed in a similar ghostbuster jumpsuit as the others in the group, but now, his is smudged from being on the ground. 

Through his thick goggles, a pair you definitely remember seeing in a minion costume set at the Halloween store, he scans the group, eyeing the two of you with interest. "Welcome, brave souls." He says, "It looks like we have some new blood joining us this evening as we venture between our world and that of the spirits. Follow me, and we shall begin our adventure."

He's got some groupies," Bachira says, noting the way the others in your tour group follow him. Clearly, this isn't their first rodeo. You and your boyfriend take up the rear as you walk through the warehouse to the very thing you were weary of, a sketchy-looking metal maintenance ladder that descends into utter darkness. You watch as the guide instructs each member to climb down to the burned ruins below. And no one bats an eye as the ladder squeaks and rattles. 

By the time it is your turn, you look at the guide, "Are you sure this is safe to use?"

"Of course it is," he scoffs. 

"This is your first time, isn't it? Don't worry, I am an expert, this thing is completely safe. The only thing that may get you is the spirits; they tend to get aggressive when it comes to non-believers." Ignoring his weird little comment, you squeeze Meguru's hand with a vice-like grip. Even in the low lighting, you see the compassion in his gaze. "We don't have to go down there if you don't want to." 

His care for you tugs are your heart, but you know he is really interested in this little tour. Love is all about sacrifices, and you love him more than just about anything. Sure, the climb may take a few years off your life, but you'd gladly do it for him.

"No, it's alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "Besides, they didn't have us sign any waivers, if that thing breaks on us, we'll make bank."

"Huh, waivers." the guide mutters, fanning the flames of your fear. "That would be a good idea."

"Then I'll go first, so you get the emotional distress payout," your boyfriend says with a wink. He grabs both sides of the ladder and slides into the darkness. 

"don't worry, it's really not that far," he yells from the bottom; you let out a shaky sigh of relief as you start to go down the ladder. Hearing a strange little chuckle from the guide as you begin your descent. 

Which seems pretty rude since you are just being cautious. You climb down carefully until you hear your tour guide yell from the top. "Oh no. It looks like we have angered the spirits with our presence tonight."

You don't know why his words make you feel so uneasy until you feel the ladder shake. You tighten your grip on the metal as you look up and see your tour guide purposefully shaking the ladder to scare you.

The squeaky ladder rattles dangerously, and on the wrong, just below you, a screw wiggles out of the side and falls to the floor. The crowd below murmurs in excitement, happy that they witnessed something paranormal.

What would've happened if you were on that rung?

"Cut it out," you yell at the strange man. "It's not safe." 

"It's not me," he laughs, his hand still obviously shaking the ladder. "It's the spirits." 

You feel as if your stomach hit the ground before the rest of you did. Your legs shake, and your palms have angry indents from how tightly you were holding onto the metal as Meguru watches you slowly climb down from the pavement below. He has a rare scowl on his face as he looks up at the guide descending just above you.

"Are you alright?" He asks worriedly, his long arms holding you as tightly as they can. "What happened up there?"

"He was shaking the ladder like an idiot." You say as he guides you away from the site of your almost untimely demise. As mad as you are, you truly don't think that the tour guide meant to cause you any physical harm. But his negligence has pissed you off. 

And judging by the way Meguru's eyes darken when he reaches the ground, he is also pissed off.

He walks over to the man and stares at him with a monstrous glare. "Are you insane?"

" I don't know what you're talking about," your tour guide says, raising his hands to play innocent.

Bachira's smile never leaves his face as he leans in closer to the guide. "Because I am.."

"Look, I warned you that the spirits were active tonight; your partner over there just chose not to listen." nervously, he backs away from the athlete, clears his throat, and turns to address the rest of the group. "These spirits are angry; it is important for everyone to stay with the group as we continue our tour."

He starts to walk ahead with the group, explaining the history behind the dozens of charred, abandoned structures around you as well as the background of the 'spirits' that haunt this place, but you are too pissed off to listen to that performative man-child. You walk slowly, looking at the fascinating walls that time seemed to have forgotten about when Meguru grabs your hand, a much softer smile on his face as he leans and softly whispers into your ear, "Don't worry, y/n, there may not be any ghosts on this tour, but there is a monster." 

"Wait, what?" You turn your head to ask him what he meant, but he has disappeared. 

The tour guide lights his headlamp and tries to show the returners how to use their ghost-catching devices, which he apparently sells on Etsy, but you aren't paying attention to his sales pitch. Instead, you are wondering where your boyfriend wandered off to, you know he has something planned, but he can be unpredictable, just like his footwork on the soccer pitch.

As your guide leads you into the ruins of an old bunkhouse, The door opens with a creak as the group steps onto the stone flooring. While everyone snaps pictures of the room, you notice a shadow moving along the wall. 

"And it was in this very spot that Minato succumbed to the injuries inflicted upon him by his wife's lover." he says dramatically, pointing to a spot on the floor. "it is said that on quiet nights, just like this one, he rises, ready to inflict that same pain on whoever he comes across."

Suddenly, the door to the bunkhouse slams shut, and everyone flinches and snaps their heads toward the sound. 

You catch a glimpse of Meguru's two-tone hair sneaking under the window and have to cover your mouth with your hand as if you are terrified. "Is the door stuck?" you ask, adding a slight shake to your voice. That gets everyone's attention as they look towards the door nervously, pointing their glorified vacuum cleaners at the entrance.

"Of course not," Your guide says with a nervous laugh. "It's just an old door, it shuts sometimes." He pulls on the handle, but the door does not budge at all. As the group watches him struggle, the sound of nails against glass can be heard from the other side of the room.

"Oh no, it's Minato." a lady cries, looking to your tour guide for any kind of guidance, but he just stands there terrified. He honestly looks like he is about to piss himself.

"That's impossible." he stammers. "W-what are we gonna do?"

"Suffer…" 

The room erupts into screams, and you start to wonder if maybe Bachira has gone too far. But as you look at the tour guide hunched in a corner, you don't feel any pity for the man.

"I wanna go home," he cries when suddenly the door opens, and the room goes quiet.

"Oh, it looks like this is a push door, not a pull door." your boyfriend says with a syrupy sweet smile. "No wonder you guys couldn't get out of here."

"Shall we continue on with the tour? I'm having such a great time." He holds his hand out for you as the other guests rush out of the boarding house. On his way out, the tour guide, still as pale as a ghost, glares at you, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. 

"I don't think they are gonna invite us on the next tour," you laugh, leaning up and pressing a thankful kiss to his smiling face.

"That's alright," he chuckles, "we'll just have to find another adventure to go on together. 

"One with less ladders please," you shudder as he slings his arms around your shoulders. 

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[russellsppttemplates]

You mean the world to me (Mick Schumacher)

Insecurities get the best of Y/N and, while Mick is on holiday, a media post makes her wonder

Note: english is not my first language. I know this has taken me so so so long to write but time just has been very tricky and I can't seem to juggle it all!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and while I'm not actively taking requests, I am writing some blurbs when I can (honestly, it's a very rare thing these days) so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: mentions anxious symptoms, feelings of being unworthy/insecurities

"Are you sure there isn't a way you can join?", Mick asked, looking at your calendar app with you by his side, "no, I mean, there's these two days here but that would be the travelling alone. I'd get there and spend 24 hours maximum with you before having to hop on a plane back home to be at this client", you pointed, "That's true, yes", he said before rubbing his forehead, "so you're not joining, it sucks, but is is what is is, I guess".

"I'm sorry I can't go, I'd really like to, but with all of this in my schedule and the distance I would have to travel, it just doesn't make sense. We'll do it together another time", you offered, squeezing his other hand that was on top of the table and helping him balance his body, "sure".

.

"Hi, liebling, how are you?", Mick asked over the phone, the noise on his side of the line contrasting with the quietness of your shared home on your end of the line, "I've been good, tired, but at least things are progressing well at work, seems like they finally understand that when we have meetings, we can actually get things done if they stop talking about everyone's business", you giggled, hearing a faint smile in Mick's voice, "I'm glad you're okay. We are actually going on a boat now, I'm not sure how good the service is once we leave so I'm calling you now", he explained, leaving you to talk a bit more before he had to depart, "wish you were here, liebling. As soon as you're able, I'm getting you here with me. Hopefully soon, yeah?".

.

Your work meetings had actually been productive for once, not making you regret the decision to stay home while Mick travelled. All of the pictures he would send you of him and his friends showed him having a great time, which you were happy about, knowing that that quality time was well deserved.

What you did not see pictures of was the article that had popped in your browser. It was by far something you did on a regular basis, but by some reason or another, you opened the article stating what you could only interpret as a mean, mean joke. As you scrolled down, allegations that Mick had been seen with someone else, "fondly flirting" as the article read, started gaining force and body, different blurry pictures and supposed witnesses' reports filling the page while your mind filled with worries. That was not something you had ever considered, after all you trusted your boyfriend completely, but you couldn't stop the thoughts or shake away the possibility of that actually being true. What evidence did you have? An article that could well be false and just a poor attempt at meddling in your private life, but pair that up with the feelings of uneasiness you had since you couldn't join Mick in the trip and your mind couldn't let the idea go. Tears fell from your eyes as your knee bounced under your desk, your hand shaking as you managed to close the Internet page while your thoughts repeatedly made you doubt. It wouldn't be the first time you heard something like that, after all, relationships come and go, and did Mick have any reason to look for someone else? You both had always agreed that from the moment it didn't feel right to any of you, you would talk to eachother to see a way to solve it, and if you didn't have a way to solve it other than break up, that would be it. Had Mick skipped the first step of the agreement? Or had he tried to talk to you about it and you didn't see where he was at already? Had you been so blind to it? So lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Mick arriving back with Angie from their walk until you felt Angie's paws on your lap, asking to get up and snuggle you like she had done many times while you felt like this.

"Angie, do you want some water or so-oh. Y/N, are you okay? What happened?", Mick asked, his hand coming to tub your back as Angie placed her head in your chest area, the weight helping you regulate your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, my love. Everything's fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something that always calmed you, and your heart panged a little bit more. He was the one that knew how to calm you down, but maybe there would be a day where it wouldn't be him, where he would have enough of the way you preferred things and leave you behind, and maybe that day was today. Letting out a big deep sigh, you looked up at your boyfriend's blue eyes, "you know I will never judge you, especially for anything you've done when I don't know the reasons behind it but... what are your intentions here? You know you can be honest with me, Mick", you asked, your lips trembling slightly.

Mick was confused, not understanding where the conversation came from and where it was leading, "what do you mean, Y/N? I know I can be honest with you, I am honest with you. Did I do something to make you doubt that?", he wondered gently, "have you seen something that made you doubt that?", he said as his expression hardened slightly, his jaw locked as he waited for an answer.

Grabbing your phone, you typed in the page you had seen the low quality pictures, "this popped up today", you said, offering him your phone so he could scroll and see for himself, his eyebrows quirking up as he read the words on the screen, "and you believe this?", he said after what felt like an eternity, "is that why you're doubting me?", and while his words and tone stung, your mind could inly list why he would leave you.

"I don't want to, I really don't want to believe in them, but my mind always comes back to them, to the words, and I can't shake them off", you said, your voice little as you looked at him, "so you believe what they are saying?", Mick confirmed, trying to get to the root of the problem, "Liebling, I'm with you, and I don't want to be with anyone else", he said calmly, trying to get you to embrace his body as he stretched his arms, your immediate reaction making your wrap your arms around yourself to control the shaking of your body, even pushing Angie a bit to the side.

"This may be what you want now, but what about a day where you realise you're bored of me and leave me?", you whispered, the tears that were caught on your throat flowing freely now as you looked at Mick while keeping a safe distance from him, "what? Y/N, no, no, no, no. Y/N, I'll never do that to you, never. Don't you trust me?", he asked, the gentleness in his voice leaving slowly, "I trust you, Mick. But it's so hard, I-, I'm reminded of how different I am from everyone else around you, everyday, how I don't have the same they have, and-, and how do I know that?", you questioned as you wiped the tears on your face. Your boyfriend looked at you with uncertainty, "Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth. I love you, I have loved you and I'm going to continue to do so", he tried to reason, "If we're not on the same page, we are just wasting out time in this relationship", Mick said and it felt like a dagger through the heart. But it hurt even more because you knew it was the truth. How could you both be in a relationship like that?

Looking at the garden, you tried your best to deal with your emotions and the thoughts running through your head, "I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. I'm tired, I'm afraid I'll say things I'll regret later and I don't want to do that, I don't want to do that to you", you said getting up and heading to the home office, not before hearing a muttered "I love you" from Mick, feeling himself that prolonging the argument would only lead to worse than it had.

You must have fallen asleep in your chair, the small pain in your neck allowing you to come to your senses quickly, your mind also not giving you a break before your mind filled with thoughts, the same ones you've had for a while. Truth being told, you had been feeling unworthy of Mick for a bit. How everyone around him always seemed to have time to go on his adventures, how they loved to be in groups and how you did not fit in the type everyone seemed to think the young driver deserved.

Heading to the kitchen, you looked at the time on the oven to see that it was just past dinner time, not seeing anything that indicated that Mick had the meal already. While you waited for the water to boil so you could make some tea, your hands tapped on the counter, Mick's words from before getting to you. Were you going to call it? Especially like this? Were you on different pages? Did he think you didn't deserve him either? All thoughts spiralled, the kettle long forgotten as you started to feel tingles on your legs, almost like you were incapable of standing on them, making your rest your back on the wall, letting your body slide slowly until your butt hit the floor while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you felt the floor vibrate almost, the feeling not getting enough time to be processed as another texture caught your senses, soft fur along your arms before you felt what you recognised as Angie's tongue lick your cheek, her snout later making you tilt your chin upwards while you heard your boyfriend's voice, "Liebling, Y/N, liebling, hey...! Breathe for us, yeah?", Mick said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, looking for his hand to hold while Angie managed to lay on top of your legs.

"That's it, nice and slow, very good. You're doing so good, my love, so good", Mick said as he rubbed your knuckles, "big, deep breath, just like I'm doing", waiting to see some colour come back to your face and for you to return back to a normal breathing pattern, the tears now concerning him, "what's the matter?", he said gently, "are you going to break up with me?", you forwarded, "just be honest, it is a yes or no question", you yelped.

Shaking his head and himseld out of his stance, Mick sat in front of you, "Y/N, I'm not breaking up with you", he clarified, "I understand now that the way I said it was not the best, but we need to talk it out. But to me it doesn't mean that, not until we fight for it, fight for us", he smiled softly, seeing you calm down almost totally, your hands a little shaky still while the Australian Shepherd looked up at you, "your head is heavy, miss Angie", you chuckled, finally feeling her head on your legs.

Helping you get up once you felt strong enough to do so, Mick handed you a cup of water and let you drink it, watching you closely before grabbing your hand, "can we talk about it?", he said, "I don't want you to feel worse, but I don't like to be like this with you either", he explained while you nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand in yours as you walked to the sofa in the living room.

"First, I want to apologise for what I said. I know that I said it and I can't undo it, I know it hurt you, and that is something I never want to do, ever", Mick started, "so, I'm sorry, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, "but, like I said, I want us to talk about it because I feel like that will be how we understand what is going on", he encouraged you.

Gulping, you fiddled with his fingers, "I feel like, sometimes, I'm not what you deserve", you started, "like you could do so much better", you were interrupted by him, "I'm sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", Mick said, "It's not your fault", you said, looking around the room, "I get insecure about it. That you'll leave. About how I am different than the rest of your friends' and their partners, how I can't go on all these trips because I have work, how I'll never look like the beautiful women that surround you everywhere and that support you around the world, but I also know that you love me just like that and would never make me change who I am, it's just the articles, it messed me up, I'm sorry too", you whispered, your voice cracking fully as the tears left your eyes, Mick's hand stretching to wipe them.

"You mean the world to me, Y/N. You're the most beautiful woman out there and I only care about you. And I want to see you thrive, wether it is in work or other things, I want to see you happy and be the luckiest man in the world that gets to be loved by you, to see you be an even better person everyday", he said as he looked at your lips, "I want you to be with me on trips and adventures, sure, but I will never ask you to drop everything you have and come with me just for that", he mused, "and I would never ever do anything like that to you, nothing they wrote ever crossed my mind. I love you too much to every hurt you like that, and it bothered me that you considered it. I now understand why, so", he kissed the top of your head before looking back at you, eye to eye, "anytime you have these doubts, you can come and talk to me. And I mean it. I'll make sure to remind you everyday of how much I love you and how you mean the world to me", he smiled, seeing a sparkle in your eyes, "Thank you for being so understanding", you said, "I love you, Mick", you smiled, "so so so much", before locking your lips with his, Angie wagging her tail around you, "are you doing that because you want some food?".

[skyevie]

I finally finished both mcl new gen episodes (kind of long post about my opinions and feelings)

Tbh I wasn't so sad about the old mcl coming to an end because I think when armin was removed back in hsl it just prepared me for whatever could come next LMAO. I am a big fan of Jason and Amanda, the rest of the Li's... are there I guess ! I think the new point system is kind of weird and overcomplicated for no reason, I really don't like the fact that we have to pay AP's for dialogue and clothes because I can either buy more clothing/recolors and be satisfied with how my character looks or save up for the new episodes... and the fact that you can't buy AP with money, only the blue hearts that can be traded for AP? (not to mention that the prices went up comparing to go mcl at least in my country) But you also need the blue hearts for those special moment with LI's every ep... like idk its sad that there is a part of content you can miss out because you simply don't want to spend money every time an ep is here lol. The missions (which is basically the eldarya expeditions) are fine since we get clothes for that. The calendar is a nice touch up because it's something new and refreshing. But the paid part and vip subscription and the clothes offers in the shop are the next thing that don't seat well with me.... Like we could get a little more for that price... especially since it rounds up to 120 dollars per year... And the fact that all the cute outfits are locked behind a daily shop rotation that have to use real money on... Oh and the last on the more negative side why does our uncle only give stuff for our fuckass goose.... We love you Taki but it's not that serious we could get like a t-shirt... or smth...

On the positives, I really like the fact that our Candy can have a personality now! Like finally we aren't a blank page that adjusts to the people we talk to and we can have opinions AND THEY MATTER! Also the clothes are much cuter, like finally someone thought - yes u can be an adult and have fun clothing and not dress boring! We love that! And I giggled to myself a little when I read why Candy switched her job lol. Reminder me of Eric's arc Eric we love you forever idc about what other said about your route.

At the end of the day I think I will try the vip for one month just to see is it really like worth it for someone who is going to be rather active on this game. Idk im excited for the plot tbh and especially how much it changes depending on the fact if we romance the Devenementiel LI's or Jason.

Also if anyone needs help with answers to the episodes I can help :3