#hopefully it makes a little bit more sense to people now

[sweetfirebird]

Wishing For--the modern ASB au

Wishing For

I know some of you haven’t met them yet, but since this is a contemporary and magicless AU of A Suitable Bodyguard, know that they look and act a little different here than they do in the original.

AND NOW YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN when I say, it turns out that once you remove the fantasy elements and the ‘save the world/our home’ plot stuff, what you are left with is troubled nerds who really need a cuddle (and some therapy). I was going for epic romance in the contemporary world, but then I took the epic out. Tahlen is trying his best to be a knight in shining armor though.

Content tags: anxiety, sheltered and virginal character, abandonment issues, toxic relatives, absent relatives, references to: drinking, recreational drug use, overly pushy drug users, overly pushy possible sexual advances, past parental death, therapy.  Also, unfortunately, rich people. But Zelli only works as a rich person, bless his heart.

Tahlen and Zelli belong to me. (Mine! All mine! muahahaha!)

12:45 AM

So sorry to disturb your evening, Tahlen, but do you know how to use Uber? Or Lyft? Perhaps it’s the service here but I can’t seem to finish downloading an app.

12:46 AM

Sorry to bother you.

12:46 AM

Sorry to bother you *again* I meant to say

12:47 AM

It’s all right if you don’t answer this. You are under no obligation to.

12:50 AM

What’s going on

12:50 AM

Where are you

12:50 AM

It’s 1 am and you’re out

12:51 AM

It’s your cousins isn’t it

12:52 AM

They insisted I should go out. It’s fine. I probably should. Really, you should go back to sleep.

12:52 AM

Or whatever you were doing. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Sorry.

12:53 AM

Where are you

12:53 AM

Your location or I’ll use your phone tracker to get it

12:54 AM

Since when can you do that?

12:56 AM

Your grandmother allowed it the last time your cousins visited and dragged you out

Omw don’t move

12:55 AM

Tahlen?

12:56 AM

You really don’t have to

12:59 AM

Tahlen?

1:01 AM

Sorry. You’re probably driving. Sorry.

Not wanting to drain the battery on his phone anymore, Zelli had it in his lap and had let the screen go dark. He had no idea how much time had passed, or how quickly Tahlen had gotten into his truck after Zelli had disturbed him. Tahlen was probably still driving. The house Zelli was in was on the outskirts of the town proper, but Tahlen would have to drive across the valley to get there. Traffic was lighter at night, but Tahlen was hardly going to be racing over here and risking a ticket.

Zelli should have figured it out himself instead of bothering Tahlen. At worst, Zelli might have spent a few boring, slightly uncomfortable hours before his cousins remembered him. Or he could have walked back toward town until he had more phone service and then downloaded one of those apps.

His friends online were going to tease him relentlessly about this if he told them, especially if he mentioned his rescue. Which meant he’d better not.

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and then turned his head, trying to distract himself with the bland, pastel picture of a vase of flowers on the wall, and then the equally pastel curtains, opened to reveal the yard full of revelers.

The house was probably a rental for short or longer-term visitors to wine country, close enough to town for convenience and amenities, far enough away for there not to be neighbors to complain about parties. The décor also suggested a hotel more than a private dwelling.

Zelli was in a guest room, either way. There was nothing personal in the room save for an unpacked suitcase sticking out of the open closet door. Hopefully, the person staying here was more interested in the ruckus downstairs than a good night’s sleep.

Or sex, Zelli’s mind unhelpfully reminded him. A lot of people would use a party like this as a way to have sex, or to try to have sex.

He gripped his phone tighter and bit his lip a little harder. Silly of him not to think of that first. That was one of the reasons his cousins had claimed they were taking him out with them, after all.

The music playing downstairs was loud enough to bump through the floor and the walls, but the different music someone was playing outside was audible as well, mostly snatches of lyrics from car speakers. Zelli did not know the songs. He hadn’t really expected to.

Pieces of conversation once in a while made their way up from the yard along with the music. He spent a while imagining his grandmother complaining again about how all the houses now being used as rentals led to neighborhoods of this instead of real communities.

He flipped his phone around nervously. The service was terrible here. He was surprised the texts had gone through, and considered texts versus the messaging app his cousin Whitman said he ought to get for ‘privacy.’ Zelli got what he meant, but he didn’t really need ‘privacy.’ They all knew Zelli had no social life, not like theirs.

He didn’t see the need for one like theirs. This house and this party didn’t feel real. They felt like Zelli was trapped in a movie about a high school or a wealthy college with a party scene meant to show the audience who the drunken asshole antagonists were. Although most of the people here were far older than high school or even college years. Zelli was that age, just old enough to go to clubs now, legally, and to buy alcohol—

He could almost hear Tahlen questioning whether or not that was the reason Zelli’s cousins had brought Zelli along—to pay for everything.

It isn’t like your cousins give much of a shit about you the rest of the time, Tahlen would say. Or rather, wouldn’t say, but his disdain for Zelli’s relatives would be painfully apparent, so much so that even Zelli’s cousin Bethany, constantly on her phone as well as several unprescribed medications, would notice. And then pout, because she wanted Tahlen to like her, among the many other things she wanted from Tahlen.

Tahlen’s smiles were not frequent, but got especially rare when the rest of Zelli’s family were around or even mentioned. But it was a lovely smile, and Zelli tried his best to make it happen, in whatever ways he didn’t think were too inappropriate.

Tahlen, understandably, took family seriously, and most of Zelli’s relatives didn’t. That was all. There was no changing them. Zelli avoided his extended family except for times like this week, when they descended on Grandmother’s house without being invited, and he was torn between being polite and hiding from them. Normally, he might have risked irritating Tahlen by staying with Tahlen while he worked, but Tahlen had been more or less out of sight for the past two weeks.

After his first drink earlier that evening, Zelli had even considered texting Tahlen to ask what had Tahlen so busy, as if that was any of Zelli’s business. Luckily, Zelli had not had much more after that, so he hadn’t done it. Just the “pregame” at the house, then a drink at the club they had first gone to. He’d gotten a sip of something else at the bar they’d gone to after that, but then his cousins had pulled him into a car to come here, and he hadn’t had anything else.

He'd like some water, actually. Or some tea. If he could figure out where he was exactly, he might be able to ask Tahlen to stop at a drive-thru or convenience store for something on the way home. He could also venture down to this house’s kitchen, where they ought to have at least water. Then he could wait outside for Tahlen.

Zelli supposed that he ought to be grateful to his grandmother for worrying about him, even if she had put that worry onto Tahlen, who should not have had to ruin his night to track Zelli down. It would be easier for him if he arrived to find Zelli in the driveway, or even out in the street. But Zelli would rather not spend any more time around the people here than he had to. He’d leave his sanctuary when he was sure Tahlen was near. 

The awkwardness Zelli had felt in the club was somehow worse in this house. Zelli was more out of place here in his borrowed t-shirt—which was supposed to be tight for the club, according to Whitman, which Zelli’s regular shirts were definitely not, but even Whitman’s smallest shirt was loose on Zelli and only made Zelli seem shorter and skinnier and weaker than he already was. The darkest jeans Zelli had, which were still not very tight, combined with dress shoes he didn’t like, and a suit jacket that was now missing, felt ill-fitting and unnatural. He regretted the loss of the jacket but was happy to at least still have his wallet and phone.

He looked at his phone again, decided to venture another text.

1:25 AM

If you changed your mind, please let me know. It’s no trouble.

He waited, watching minutes tick by, but there was no answer. Maybe Tahlen had gone back to bed… whose bed Zelli didn’t know, but it was—had been—Saturday night, and Tahlen was very attractive, and it wasn’t unlikely that he’d been out or with someone.

Tahlen was very fond of Grandmother and reasonably tolerant of Zelli. But really, Grandmother shouldn’t have asked him to do this. Tahlen already felt he owed her too much.

Since the Vallithi estate was only a few miles down the road in their corner of the valley, Tahlen’s family and Grandmother had long been friends. But Tahlen’s parents, unlike the previous generation of Vallithis, had not been naturally gifted at handling the business side of their grape-growing operation. That, combined with the creeping corporate takeover of much of the valley, meant their business had been hurting even before Tahlen’s parents had died in a boating accident while on vacation elsewhere. Their deaths had left the property and the business in the hands of their two children, Tahlen and Esrin, who had been just teenagers at the time. Zelli, about twelve then, had sat with them at the memorial service. Esrin had scowled at the world but made sure Zelli ate from the provided food. Tahlen had looked blank and tired and hadn’t said a word.

They still had some property—the house, essentially—but the land around it was owned or leased for corporate grape growing. Tahlen had barely graduated high school and then started to work, first for anyone, then for Grandmother after Grandmother had had enough of whatever stubborn nonsense Tahlen had been up to. Tahlen was guaranteed good pay, decent hours, and a place to stay in Grandmother’s estate—Zelli suspected so Tahlen didn’t have to go to an empty house at night. The money from the leases went to help Esrin get through cooking school and then to help her expenses and debt while she worked in a fancy restaurant in town.

The restaurant industry should pay their workers better, in Zelli’s opinion.

Tahlen was now taking classes again, at Grandmother’s insistence, but honestly, Tahlen seemed more than content just working for her. He went out to inspect things at her side, and talked to people about the land and harvests and things Zelli didn’t touch, as that wasn’t the area of interest Zelli shared with his grandmother.

Grandmother did not actually need the income from the wine. The label was something of a hobby for her, but it was nonetheless highly sought after, and she loved the whole business. Which was probably why Tahlen was a dream come true for her. She adored and respected him, and since she detested most of the rest of the family and knew Zelli didn’t care about wine, Zelli suspected she was training Tahlen to take over for her when she could no longer do it.

That might also have been another reason Bethany chased after Tahlen when she was around, Zelli realized thoughtfully. His cousins could be perceptive and clever when it suited them to be.

Zelli’s strengths were really more in line with the rest of the family’s interests. Well, his interests and grandmother’s. He did not give much thought to the rest of the family, as he was sure they didn’t give any thought to him. His father certainly didn’t. They all generally only spoke to Grandmother when it involved some aspect of the family trust. Everything else, everything pertaining to Grandmother’s private money and investments, which were considerable, Zelli kept an eye on, as well their household expenses and some of the financials of the winery.

He didn’t really do much, but he at least did more than the cousins and aunts and uncles living off the trust who did nothing, then showed up once in a while to try to get on Grandmother’s good side.

She had no control over the family trust, but her business was hers, and it had done very well. She didn’t say so directly but had once or twice implied they were all just trying to get a mention in her will.

And to hit up Zelli for money, since Zelli didn’t have nearly the same expenditures as the rest of them and only tried to earn enough from everything else he did to pay for his gaming equipment and things like that.

Somewhere, Tahlen was scowling, Zelli just knew it. He sighed.

Zelli’s cousins, the only members of his family remotely close to Zelli in age, did not understand LEGO sets or supporting creators and streamers. They’d had a low opinion of the Spirited Away shirt Zelli had been wearing when they’d found him… and also of Zelli’s hair. He’d recently gotten an ill-advised haircut to try to deal with his uncontrollable, multitextured hair, wherein he had learned that without the weight to hold his hair down, his hair got even wilder.

Maybe Zelli was spoiled, as they’d suggested. He didn’t have to do anything for himself, that was true. Grandmother had a housekeeper and a cook. There was cleaning and gardening staff. And he had Grandmother to coddle him and keep him from the real world. Now, here he was. He couldn’t figure out how to Uber, and even if he looked up a cab company, he didn’t have an address to give them.

He checked his phone, nearly dropping it when he saw a message waiting for him.

1:30 AM

Tell me you are not here

A picture of the front of the house was attached: a yard now destroyed by someone’s crookedly parked car, some people standing around, smoking, and a couple on the hood of the car who were…

“Oh.” Zelli hoped that wasn’t one of his cousins.

1:34 AM

I’ll come out

1:34 AM

Just tell me where you are

He could practically see Tahlen’s stiff disapproval as he probably despaired over Zelli’s lack of sense and social skills and answered quickly so as not to inconvenience Tahlen more.  

1:35 AM

Second floor, one of the back bedrooms.

He put his phone in his pocket and got up to peer out the window, hoping to see Tahlen’s tall form stalking toward the house. He didn’t, which meant Tahlen had been in the house when he’d sent the last text. Zelli spun around to face the door only a second before the sound of a gentle knock.

“Zelli?” Tahlen called softly through the door.

Zelli flew across the room to undo the lock and let Tahlen in.

“You had to lock the door?” Tahlen demanded in a low, unhappy voice, turning to glare down the hallway before coming in and shutting the door behind him. He studied Zelli intently for several seconds while Zelli tried not to fidget, then asked, even quieter than before, “Who scared you?”

Tahlen was not looming over Zelli, but he did loom. Nearly everyone could loom over Zelli, who tried not to take it personally. Friends online assured him he was a “short king” but Zelli didn’t feel very kingly. Tahlen was about six feet, tall, but not exceptionally so. He did, however, carry himself with the physical confidence of someone who had been an athlete in high school and had spent most of his life learning various martial arts “to relax.”

Zelli did not know how kendo or kenpō could be relaxing, but Tahlen felt the same way about some of Zelli’s games.

Tahlen also rode his horse often, stabled at Grandmother’s estate in an arrangement that Tahlen felt he ought to pay for while Grandmother ignored his protests because Tahlen often rode with Zelli when Zelli did, and she claimed Tahlen was Zelli’s security. As if they were in the 1920s and someone was going to kidnap Zelli for ransom.

Zelli had spent several months trying to convince Tahlen that no matter what his grandmother thought, Tahlen wasn’t obligated to spend time with him, with Tahlen glowering and going more silent until Zelli had finally given up.

Despite the time of night and the seasonal chill, Tahlen was in a t-shirt, leaving the tattoos on his forearms visible. Each arm had a mural for one of his parents and their interests: chess and horses on his left, flowers and wine and grapes on the right. He also had a constellation on the side of his neck. Zelli didn’t know the reason for that one, but it had sent him into a brief astronomy and then astrology phase in his teen years, at the height of his Tahlen crush. Tahlen probably had more ink. Zelli didn’t know where, though, if he did.  

“Zelli?” Tahlen promptly unhappily, drawing Zelli’s eyes up from Tahlen’s bare skin.

Tahlen sometimes wore his hair longer, but it was short at the moment, a lovely, rich brown, like sable, or how Zelli imagined sable would look in person. Tahlen’s eyes were nearly the same color. Dressed like he was, in jeans that were worn and tight in the right places, unlike Zelli’s, he’d probably gotten stares as he’d come in. Possibly some for not dressing like the others here, but also for being so, well, remarkable. Handsome. Pretty.

Zelli’s poufy short hair was an indistinct brown, though he had tried dyeing it often as a teenager. He was surprised he hadn’t gotten beat up at the high school for the rainbow attempt actually, but then, Grandmother had sent Tahlen to pick him up every day by then. Tahlen’s glares were effective.

Zelli peered up at Tahlen, aware that he was sober all these hours after his first drinks, and that he had no excuse for staring except, “You came?” he asked in confusion. “For me? Really?”

Even in the dim bedroom, with only the light from outside to illuminate him, Tahlen’s surprise at the question was evident.

Zelli blinked eyes of undramatic hazel green. Eyes set in a freckled face that would darken in the sun, if Zelli would ever spend more time outside. He was ordinary, tiny, boring, nerdy Zelli, who did nothing and had achieved nothing, and who had once been so over-the-top about his teen feelings for Tahlen that it was a wonder Tahlen still talked to him.

“Are you drunk?” Tahlen leaned down to inspect Zelli from a better angle. His face was suddenly close, startling Zelli, who parted his lips but at least held in his gasp. “High?” Tahlen went on, disgruntled and concerned. “Did someone slip you something?”

Zelli stepped back on shaky legs. “It’s fine,” he assured Tahlen in strained voice. He coughed and tried again, taking another step back to clear his head. “Sorry.” He ignored how Tahlen’s mouth tightened at the word. “I’m fine. I had a drink at the club, and one at the bar I barely started, and whatever is downstairs didn’t look appealing. I’d really love some tea, to be honest. Ah.” It was no wonder Tahlen thought Zelli was high. He was babbling. About tea. “It’s obvious I spend most of my time with my grandmother, isn’t it?” He tried to be light. “It’s ridiculous that they dragged me out.”

Tahlen crossed his arms. “Why did you let them?” Again, was implied.

Zelli met Tahlen’s frustrated gaze, then had to look away. He shrugged. “I… thought I should try again. To be a regular person.” He bit his lip, which was going to chap. “Maybe I ought to try the community college, just to get out more. I could… I could get to know people my own age. In person and not online. Maybe learn to draw or something. I do think, at least Whitman, is genuinely concerned for me, in his way.”

“Oh yeah?” Tahlen challenged, still keeping his voice soft. “When was the last time any of them contacted you to ask how you are?”  

Zelli had no answer for that, which Tahlen knew.

Tahlen let his voice rise, just a fraction. “Do they even know where you are right now?” An Or care? was implied as well.

Zelli didn’t know if he was reassuring himself or Tahlen. “I’m sure they’ll look for me whenever it’s time to leave. They did last time.”  

“And they didn’t find you last time, as I recall.” Tahlen was fed up with the whole family and Zelli couldn’t blame him.

The last time had involved a trip to the city with Grandmother, and once the cousins had realized Zelli was there, they’d badgered him to go out with them, then shown him how to set up a tab at a bar with his credit card. They’d all disappeared at some point after that. Zelli had finally walked several city blocks back to the house and sat on the porch of his aunt and uncle’s house, waiting for Bethany or one of the others to come back to let him in.

He wasn’t aware Tahlen had known the details, but when Grandmother had given Tahlen the permissions to track Zelli’s iPhone, she must have told him. She’d only told Zelli to call Tahlen if he couldn’t reach her or didn’t want to bother her.

Zelli lifted his chin but couldn’t quite meet Tahlen’s eye. “Well, I think I enjoyed the night on the porch more than the bar anyway.” But a sigh followed his joke. “I’m just not meant for these sorts of things.”

“You’re more of a movie and a visit to a late-night café sort of person,” Tahlen agreed.

“I….” Zelli forgot what he’d been about to say. Tahlen regarded him seriously. Zelli regarded him in amazement. “Yes,” he finally answered, “if I must go out.”

“Or for a ride on Lemon Blossom,” Tahlen went on evenly, as if he didn’t think there was anything odd about Zelli’s few out-of-the-house activities.

“I’m boring, I know,” Zelli said anyway, more confused than he could ever remember being. “My interests are not sophisticated and I have no real passions.”

“It’s someone else streaming Minecraft, then. Or building those elaborate LEGO sets. Or playing around with numbers and figures in their head while watching TV.” Tahlen uncrossed his arms. “And someone else making whatever money it is you make as easily as you do. That seems sophisticated to me.”

Zelli scoffed quietly. “I couldn’t do nearly the amount of work you do, and you keep all that information in your head as well. Your interests are far more….” Tahlen’s expression said Zelli was deflecting. Zelli didn’t know when he’d learned to read Tahlen so well. Others, like Bethany, certainly couldn’t. But maybe if she really looked at Tahlen once in a while. He wondered if most people did. Or if they just saw Grandmother’s employee. Or an extremely attractive and hot person glaring at them. Though people seemed to like that, so maybe Tahlen didn’t mind that last one. “Sorry,” Zelli said abruptly. “I must have ruined your night.”

Tahlen was indeed glaring at the moment. “It’s not ruined.”

Zelli gestured loosely. “Interrupted, then.”

“Zelli.” Tahlen said his name on a sigh. “You’re always apologizing when you’ve no need to.”

“No need?” Zelli demanded in disbelief. “Grandmother insisting you do this for me? It’s too much. You shouldn’t have to….”

Tahlen was making a very strange face. Rather pained. Like when Zelli had spent several days nervously bouncing around the house while waiting for one of his online friends to visit. The friend had been coming to the area for something else and the two of them had planned to get lunch, but then something had come up so nothing had come of it anyway. Tahlen had probably thought Zelli was meeting up with a serial killer but had been doing his best to be supportive.

That was the face he was making right now. Which was to say, his face did not actually do much, a slight tightening of his lips, a glance away, but to Zelli his discomfort was clear as day.

“Maybe she didn’t insist?” Zelli amended his statement. “She just asked and you felt you shouldn’t say no?”

“I asked,” Tahlen corrected stiffly. “They left you on the porch.” Tahlen sounded as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. “In a strange city—a new-to-you city,” he added when Zelli started to object.

Zelli stared, his mouth definitely hanging open for a moment before he closed it. Something warm carried through him the way alcohol was supposed to, and like with alcohol, it made him say the first thing that came to mind. “It was really more of a stoop. I wouldn’t have made you drive all the way into the city to sit with me on a stoop.”

It wasn’t a joke, and Tahlen didn’t react as if it had been. “I could’ve stayed on the phone with you while you waited,” he explained patient and furious. “You shouldn’t have been alone.”

“Oh.” Zelli studied the tops of his dress shoes. He was warmed again, and yet felt like a dumbass in some way he couldn’t explain. As if he should have known that. It was insulting to Tahlen, really, that Zelli would assume he didn’t care, or that he felt obligated to. Tahlen took family seriously. Perhaps Zelli was more that than a friend or annoying sort-of housemate to him. “You’re very kind,” Zelli said to the shoes, in the voice of someone who spent all of his time around a senior citizen who had been raised with old-fashioned etiquette rules and had once attended an all-girls boarding school in Switzerland. “Thank you. I’ll think of that in the future… or not.” He peeked up at the sound of Tahlen’s annoyed little exhale. “I won’t let my cousins kidnap me again, but I will remember your concern.” That was better. “We should go, so you can at least have some of your night to yourself.”

“Why did you lock the door?”  

Of course, Tahlen wasn’t going to let that go.

“Nothing. No reason,” Zelli said immediately. He looked up again, fully aware Tahlen wouldn’t believe that. “They’re loud,” he admitted, to Tahlen’s shoulder this time, instead of to his shoes. “And bigger than me. And some of them kept offering me things. I suppose it’s meant to be friendly. But they are also not really inclined to listen to no’s and one had a grip on my jacket that I couldn’t… so I slipped out of it and came up here.” He grew quieter and quieter the longer he went on. “And locked the door while I tried to figure out how to leave. Really, though,” he cleared his throat, “nothing happened and there’s no need to do anything about it. We can just go home.”

“Sit down, Zelli,” Tahlen ordered, gentle.  

Zelli huffed. “Really, I…”

“You’re shaking,” Tahlen interrupted to inform him and then came forward.

Zelli stepped back, then bumped into the bed and sat. Tahlen was in front of him, too tall, and then kneeled down and put his hands on Zelli’s knees while he gazed at Zelli with concern and worry in his expression for anyone, even Bethany, to read.  

Zelli stared blankly at him, at his hands, his forearms, the stars at his throat and his dark, warm eyes, which were so close.

Several years ago, Zelli had become aware that his feelings for Tahlen had gone far beyond a crush, but there hadn’t been anything to do about it, so he’d done his best to not think about them. He always had things to do, or could find things to do. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, because Zelli was Zelli and he was not the sort of person to have feelings like that reciprocated, and never by someone like Tahlen. Grandmother had spotted them anyway, Zelli’s feelings, and advised him to be respectful, and to stay kind to Tahlen. So that was what Zelli had done. He had tried to stay out of Tahlen’s way, and to apologize when he messed up, and to only devote some of his time to making Tahlen smile.

Now this. He was tired and anxious. He was going to ruin it.

He did his best to look away, but Tahlen’s gaze was steady and demanded Zelli return it. Zelli couldn’t be rude, so he looked back, and released a long sigh. Tahlen was even more beautiful up close.

“It’s probably just that I never leave the house,” Zelli offered nervously. He was shaking. He hadn’t realized. “Maybe I should also… buy clothes more appropriate for going out. I don’t dress up… spend the money how I should.” His voice had a tremor too. “I’ve seen TikToks; I know how I could dress. Though it’s not going to make me anything but a permanent… a permanent twink as far as the world is concerned.”

He'd never said that word aloud to Tahlen before, but presumably, from Zelli’s rainbow hair and all of his teenage staring, Tahlen was well aware of Zelli’s queerness.

“Although not an especially pretty one,” Zelli added quickly, his face hot. “You’re going to tell me to breathe, aren’t you?” Tahlen’s eyes seemed to have lights in them. That should have been impossible. “I am breathing.” Zelli demonstrated that a few times. “Did Grandmother tell you about my go at therapy too?” He wasn’t resentful, merely curious. “I don’t really think I need it. My family, including my father, has no interest in me. That’s just a fact. I was raised by my grandmother away from town so my interests don’t match most in my age group. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

“Zelli,” Tahlen said his name so softly, “is that why you let them do this to you again?”

The heat from his hands was distracting.

Zelli breathed.

“I’m on my way to twenty-two and I’ve never done anything,” he blurted, embarrassed. “With anyone,” he added, because why not make his humiliation as clear as possible? “Though I want to. Well, nothing outside of a few online flirtations when I was younger, which went nowhere, of course. Because it doesn’t take much for people to realize I’m not….” Zelli shut his eyes. “You’re sexy and interesting and beautiful, so you don’t understand. But it’s…. My cousins don’t care about me. I know that. They want to use my money. But I’m alone all the time. It’s me, and everyone in the staff, and Grandmother.”

“And me.”

Zelli opened his eyes, then immediately dropped his head to look at Tahlen’s hands instead of into his eyes. Zelli was supposed to be better than his creepy staring by now. “I just annoy you. Don’t pretend I don’t. My teen years… I am sorry about that.”

Tahlen took a second. “That was a while ago. You don’t need to keep apologizing for it. You didn’t actually do anything.”

“I was inappropriate,” Zelli insisted unhappily, mumbling.

Tahlen inched in closer, bringing Zelli’s gaze back to his frowning face. “You weren’t. And it was years ago. I was also… I was not in a good place at the time, regardless, but you never annoyed me. For fuck’s sake, Zelli,” Tahlen said it with the same softness as before, “I grew up next to your house, to you and your grandmother. I never thought you were spoiled or a brat or creepy. To be honest, I didn’t think of you much at all, then.”

Zelli heaved a sigh, but nodded. “I should be grateful for that.”

Tahlen didn’t budge. “But your grandmother was so worried about you. It made me start to worry about you. It’s second nature now.”

Zelli gave him a sad shrug.  

Frustration flickered through Tahlen’s expression. “Not because you’re helpless—although we are downloading Uber for you when we get home.” He waited, apparently wanting to be certain Zelli was listening, then went on. “Because you care a lot, and the world can be harsh and cold.”

“You really are wonderful, Tahlen.” The tremor hadn’t left Zelli’s voice. Tahlen looked comically startled for a moment, then his frown returned. Zelli hurried away from the careless compliment. “Would you say we’re friends?”

The pinched, pained, vexed look returned to Tahlen’s face. The music downstairs was louder, the silence heavier.

Zelli tried to correct his faux pas. “I’m not very good at people. I’m sorry. Oh, I’m apologizing again—sorry.” He winced and stopped.

Tahlen seemed to be processing. Maybe he’d forgotten his hands were on Zelli. Zelli wondered if he ought to be remind him, worrying he would cause more offense if he did, then that it was creepy not to. That was overthinking, he knew that, and rushed past it.

“I like being your friend.” He meant it. “Though, other than people I might not ever meet in person, that might make you my best friend. Which is,” probably sad, “perhaps uncomfortable for you? Obviously, I don’t expect to be your best friend. That would be presumptuous.”

“Presumptuous,” Tahlen echoed flatly. Displeased.

“We do spend a lot of time together these days,” Zelli realized out loud. They went riding. They shared meals in the kitchen. Grandmother would go to bed early, and many nights, Tahlen stayed up with Zelli in the living room, one or both of them working or reading or on their phone, or not doing anything but watching TV together.

Zelli’s internet friends kept demanding pictures of Tahlen, insisting Zelli had feelings that he had denied to them, despite all the time he spent in Tahlen’s company.

“But I don’t even know if you’re seeing anyone,” Zelli finished, “or bestie things like that.”

“Bestie,” Tahlen repeated, looking at Zelli incredulously before tossing his head to dismiss that. “If I’m not working, I’m generally with you.” He said it like he was spelling something out, which was also how it felt to Zelli, so that must have been what Tahlen was doing. “Because I like spending time with you. Even though you are….” He made an impatient, irritated sound in his throat. Then, raising his eyes, watched Zelli closely, “I invited you out two weeks ago, to see that cartoon movie you wanted to see, in the little movie theater in town.”

“It’s anime, not a cartoon,” Zelli corrected out of habit from a dozen conversations with Tahlen about it. Then he shut his mouth.

Tahlen’s lips were soft, his eyes narrowed but bright. Defiant or worried, Zelli couldn’t decide; it was a new expression and he wasn’t sure of it.

“So,” Tahlen ignored Zelli’s correction, “why say yes to your cousins but not that?”

“I’d make it weird.” Zelli waved his hands around on the word ‘weird’ to show what he meant. “You almost never go to the movies.” Zelli went alone, when he did go, or with Grandmother if she approved of whatever it was. But Tahlen almost never saw anything in theaters. “So, if we went to that, I’d want to make sure you enjoyed yourself, even though you’ll make a face for the story—you know you will, don’t pretend you wouldn’t—and I’d get you soda, and peanut M&Ms, and popcorn, and even those orangey-yellow nachos if you wanted. And I’d probably sit too close to you or stare if you laughed or…” Zelli gulped. “I should stop talking now. I’m not drunk. I’m just… tired. And anxious. I get anxious sometimes. It’s not a big deal. Sorry.”  

“Even the nachos?” Tahlen wondered, his tone also new to Zelli. “You think movie theater nachos are gross.”

“I think they look gross.” Zelli absently wrinkled his nose. “I’ve never had them.” He glanced to Tahlen’s face, his eyes, lit up and not angry. “They serve beer and wine at the little theater. I’d probably try to get you that, too,” Zelli admitted quietly, “and then you’d worry about driving me home, so we’d have to walk for a while or go get coffee or something afterward. And I’d do something stupid, you see, because I don’t know any better. I’d,” he darted his gaze away again, “think it was a date, or feel like it was romantic, and I don’t know what I would say, but it would…”

He stopped as Tahlen leaned in, his face tilted up, his eyes intent. His breath was soft against Zelli’s mouth. His lips looked as if they would also be soft.

“I’d…” Zelli tried again to speak, but forgot what he’d been saying. “Tahlen,” he complained quietly, “it’s 1:30 in the morning. I’m confused. If you don’t stop, I’ll think you want to…”

“Kiss you?” Tahlen finished for him, then did precisely that.

Tahlen’s palm and fingertips grazed the side of Zelli’s face, his thumb brushing Zelli’s abused bottom lip. His lips were soft. His breath was light. His mouth fit easily to Zelli’s. Zelli’s eyes fell closed without his conscious direction. He shivered and didn’t know why, because he was more than warm, more than content, floating despite the heavy rush of his pulse.  

Tahlen eased back, leaving Zelli flushed hot and breathing too hard. Zelli made a small sound of protest and was immediately flustered to hear himself, but Tahlen brought his hand up again before Zelli could try to apologize. He gently urged Zelli to tilt his head to the side and then Tahlen was kissing him again, still careful though not as soft, as if he had tasted Zelli’s mouth was now savoring it, a thought to make Zelli clutch Tahlen’s shoulders and whine for more.

“It would have been a date, Zelli,” Tahlen explained after giving Zelli innumerable breathless, lingering kisses, each of them hotter than the last and hitting Zelli in places Tahlen’s hands never touched. Tahlen sighed the words as though he had been waiting to say them. “That’s why I asked you.”

Zelli forced his eyes open. He leaned away, only enough to find his breath, but Tahlen dropped his hand. It landed back on Zelli’s knee.

The music from downstairs, from outside, was muted. Zelli’s heartbeat was loud.

“Peanut M&Ms are my favorite,” Tahlen revealed quietly.

Zelli’s nod was weak. “I know. I want to give you all your favorite things.” Tahlen’s eyebrows went up as if this was a surprise. Zelli had hidden more than he’d thought he had. “I didn’t because… it would be weird. Wouldn’t it?”

Zelli had just been kissed. Many times. By Tahlen. It was the middle of the night. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

Tahlen eased down onto his knees in front of Zelli once again, his gaze steadying the longer Zelli studied him.

“Wouldn’t it?” Zelli asked again.

“Maybe.” Tahlen quirked a corner of his lips. The lips that just had been on Zelli’s. The lips that kept stealing Zelli’s attention. ��But I wouldn’t mind. I…. There’s no one in the whole world, except possibly my sister, who would ever think about giving me all of my favorite things.” He frowned. “Which I am not demanding. But the M&Ms… I’d accept those from you, if you gave them to me.”

“I could do better?” The offer slipped out. “Better than candy and popcorn, I mean. I have money. That zombie show you like… I saw a mug for it the other day and I wanted to get it for you.”  

Tahlen’s frown disappeared. The slight curve returned to his mouth, then a wider one, until Tahlen’s smile was unmistakable.

“Smiling like that for me. What am I supposed to do with that?” Zelli asked helplessly, distantly worried that someone had slipped him something and he was imagining this. The worry became less distant when he saw his hand reaching out and felt the tips of his fingers falling to rest on Tahlen’s lips.

Tahlen closed his eyes.

“Lovely.” Zelli meant it, though he hiccupped when it made Tahlen look at him. “But I don’t know what to do.”  

Tahlen curled his hand around Zelli’s wrist and gently pulled it down to his neck. Zelli splayed his fingers to cover the blue and black ink of the constellation. Tahlen took his hand away, leaving Zelli to overthink petting him or not petting him. It felt good, touching Tahlen. Warming, deep inside, but also physically, practically warm on his skin.   

“Did my grandmother know about this?” The question came out sharp as the possibility occurred to Zelli, but he swept his thumb beneath Tahlen’s ear and Tahlen’s eyes closed again. A slight shiver ran through him. “Oh.” Zelli wasn’t shaking anymore but his heart was pounding. Someone far away, hopefully very far away, was arguing with her boyfriend. He didn’t like the sound. He didn’t want anything to make Tahlen open his eyes to frown. “We should go home. I’ll text my cousins so they’ll know where I got to.” But after he and Tahlen had gone, he decided, so his cousins couldn’t hitch a ride with them. They could find their own ways back.  

Despite Zelli’s meager protective efforts, Tahlen opened his eyes, then tightened his jaw: displeased, but not going to argue. “If you want to,” he said, meaning he wouldn’t have told Zelli’s cousins a damn thing. “It’s your decision.”

“I suppose it is.” Zelli looked from his hand on Tahlen to Tahlen’s face.

“You seem better now,” Tahlen observed. “You scared me when I first saw you. It scared me to get your text. But I’m glad you sent it.”

Zelli pulled his hand back almost guiltily. “Are you? I just told you I’d never done anything and that I’ve been trying not to creep on you, which implies that I wanted to. Which I did. Not be creepy—that’s not what I meant. It’s just… there is no one else like you. I obviously think you’re wonderful. People who’ve never even met you know that.”

Nonplussed was the emotional state conveyed by the twitch of Tahlen’s eyebrows and general stillness. But then Tahlen forced his confusion away and looked to Zelli. “Can I take you home now?”

“All right,” Zelli agreed shyly, even though they both would have gone home anyway, whatever his answer. Then he realized he had no idea what would happen once they got there. “Did I interrupt your night? Until my family showed up, I was looking forward to finishing The Fae and Dragon Chronicles on HBO Max with you. Not that I assumed you’d be watching with me. The past two weeks, you were away a lot…” Tahlen’s eyebrows went up, pointed. “Oh, I see.” Zelli did see. “I’m sorry. I would have said yes. Well, if I’d believed you really wanted to….” The air left him. He took a moment, stunned as the truth sank in. “You really wanted to go on a date with me.”

Tahlen sat up, sliding a hand to the back of Zelli’s neck while leaning in to offer another kiss, less careful, a little harder in a way that had Zelli whining again.

Zelli finally pulled away to bite his tingling bottom lip and stare at Tahlen. At least Tahlen was out of breath too.

“Are you really sure?” Zelli asked, despite the warmth all through him and the smile on Tahlen’s face. “I’m not very attractive, and I’m not as rich as Grandmother, and I am sort of useless around the house.”

Tahlen’s smile slipped. “Mizel.”

“Sorry.” Zelli shook his head. “I do perhaps need the therapy. I know. My father….” He didn’t want to talk about his father now. Or ever, really. He slid ungracefully down to his knees but his tumble made Tahlen’s smile return, and Tahlen put an arm around him before standing up and tugging Zelli to his feet with him. Tahlen’s arm was warm too, and solid, and very steady. Zelli was going to like having it around him too much and make it weird.

No. He stopped that thought there. Tahlen was smiling. It wasn’t weird—or, if it was, Tahlen didn’t mind.

“When we get home” –around 2am by then, but Zelli was hardly going to sleep now— “we might have time for at least one episode. And some tea. Or… we could kiss some more?”

Tahlen kissed him again right there, as if he couldn’t wait.

Zelli wrapped his arms around Tahlen too, worrying over it despite himself.

Tahlen allowed it, in any case. “Tea, and an episode, and kissing,” he agreed, though he might have work to do in the morning. It didn’t seem much of a date, since it was what they might have done anyway, except for the kissing.

At the thought, Zelli frowned thoughtfully, inching back to gaze up into Tahlen’s handsome, flushed face. “Did you feel lonely, sitting with me in the living room in different chairs, on opposite sides of the couch, wishing for… wishing? Because I wished, but I’ve never felt lonely around you. It’s why I…. Of all my Tahlen-feelings, that has never been one of them.”

Tahlen’s gaze met his, nearly glowing from within.

“Oh,” Zelli said, bashfully pleased. He supposed anything else, more questions, more kissing, whatever might follow the kissing, even the tea, could wait. He wasn’t looking forward to the walk back through this house, but the rest made him want to hide his face against Tahlen’s arm or kiss Tahlen harder than Tahlen had kissed him. Which, thankfully, he did not know how to do, and he couldn’t reach Tahlen’s mouth without Tahlen’s help anyway.

“Then I’ve had enough of being out for one night.” He thought Tahlen understood what he meant and agreed, because he took Zelli’s hand to lead him from the room, his post-kiss face hardening into something fierce and unhappy before he opened the door. But his hold on Zelli’s hand did not change, and he kept Zelli close as they made their escape.  

[possiblyfunny]

With all the Missing Numbers Doodles popping up today, I finally found it in me to actually doodle and not care about how it looked. Anyways—

Here is Aster’s Halloween Costume! I didn’t color it, but Aster is Little Red Riding Hood and Del is the Werewolf. He’s not trick-or-treating, by the way—he’s just handing out king-sized chocolate bars to everyone he passes while walking around!

It’s not much- Just a goofy little thing to celebrate the holiday. Happy Halloween, everyone!

(Psst-! Hey, @100nebulas ! Starry! I know it’s not a lot, but I promised! Here’s your small dose of Aster content :])

[spicy-apple-pie]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))

I did warn you…

Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.

So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.

So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”

And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”

And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.

Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”

Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.

“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”

“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”

So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”

Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”

And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.

He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.

And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.

“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”

“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.

“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”

Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”

“Language, Jay…”

“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”

“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.

And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.

I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.

Edit: I did it

[withercat1]

Some observations about Mouthwashing

Spoilers ahead!

Ok so this game has got me so hyperfixated that I’m using Tumblr for the first time in like a year just to keep a tab with the Mouthwashing hashtag open so I can refresh it throughout the day and see what people are posting. That and my tab full of Danny AOD gifs. Anyway.

So I wanted to share some things I’ve noticed because I haven’t seen anyone else mention them and I want to seem smart and observant.

First off is the name Curly. Like it’s kind of a weird name. It’s unclear whether this is his first or last name because the writing on his id card is so burned and so cursive. It is worth noting that Curly is an actual name, meaning “strong man” or “great strength”. What stands out to me though, is that Laika, the dog who was sent into space, was actually named Kudrayavka originally, which means “Little Curly” (and a little fun fact, Laika means “barker”). Thematically, both of these make sense. I don’t know which one was intentional, if either. It’s entirely possible Curly as a name is a reference, or just a name the devs liked.

Secondly, Anya’s design is based off of Shelley Duvall in The Shining, most recognizable to most people for the scene where she’s hiding in the bathroom while Johnny breaks down the door. That being her most iconic scene really reminds me of Anya’s deal with doors, being unable to lock the door to her quarters, and then locking herself in medical while the others try to get her out.

Thirdly, and the one I find most interesting, is one of the videos that plays on the tv after the storage room is opened. It’s about atoms, and states that atoms make up everything, like shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and cabbages, and kings. I don’t know if this video was chosen by the devs specifically for this quote, but for the purposes of my rambling I’m going to assume it was. This quote is a direct reference to The Walrus and the Carpenter, a poem by Lewis Carroll.

The poem is hyperlinked above (hopefully, Idrk how to use Tumblr), but I just want to post the segment that the quote from the video comes from.

“The time has come,' the Walrus said,

��     To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

      Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

      And whether pigs have wings.'”

To briefly summarize the whole poem, though I highly recommend reading it for yourself as well because it’s really good, the Walrus and the Carpenter come across a group of oysters and ask them to join them for a walk. The oysters do, and the Walrus and the Carpenter walk with then a bit, before finally stopping, where the lines above happen. Right after this, the oysters ask to take a break, and the Walrus and the Carpenter agree to let them have the break - because they plan on eating the oysters. “And why the sea is boiling hot,” I believe, refers to the oysters being boiled in order to prepare them for consumption.

The Walrus says he pities the oysters, and wipes his tears away, while actively partaking in the consumption of the oysters. The poem ends with a statement that all of the oysters have been devoured.

So! Let’s focus on the Walrus here. Someone who leads innocents astray, boils/cooks them, and then eats them, all the while crying about how awful it is while doing nothing to abstain from eating them. Sound familiar? Sound like that guy we all hate? Little bit! I don’t know if it was an intentional bit of symbolism or not, but it’s super big brained if it was.

That’s all for now but I’m sure I’ll think of some more things later. I love this game. If u made it this far I really appreciate it, feel free to comment and let me know what you think

Also let me know how to tag a post as spoilers properly, I seriously do not use this site

[magicians-abode]

"You're sweeter than wine"

How would Dungeon Meshi characters (men) react to you telling them this phrase?

hopefully this isn't ooc, I tried my very best to make it accurate to each character's personality but, well, it's kinda hard for me. Anyways, here's me proving I haven't died and that I'm still willing to write despite my brain being a wreck because of anxiety. Hope you enjoy!

Laios: he's not exactly sure what you mean, but he smiles regardless of his confusion. "Oh! Thank you" but then the doubt crawls up his spine and it makes him ask "what kind of wine? Red? White? Rosé? They're all pretty different in their own way, you know?" so he starts making you explain exactly what you meant, which makes him end up smiling even more now that he knows exactly what you had wanted to express to him since the beginning.

Kabru: I feel like he's used to people thinking he's attractive, he's very analytical when he knows someone new, always paying attention to every detail, every gesture, every roll of their eyes or even when their breath hitches. So when you walked over to him and said hi, but your next words were such a thing, he froze for a moment, blinking owlishly. A little hint of a blush and a laugh erupt from him. He's both amused and flattered by how blunt and sudden you were with it, but he let's you know he appreciates the gesture by saying something along the lines of: "thank you, I could say the same thing about you" and then winking one of his pretty icy blue eyes. (I think I'm fainting)

Chilchuck: not a fan of sweet things, unless it's your compliments, so at first he's taken aback, but then he chuckles. "Well, where did that come from?" He tries to tease you, poking wherever he can reach on your body (depends on how tall you are, if you're a tall-man he probably pokes your stomach) he has a cocky smile on his face, and through all the teasing it probably looks like he wasn't really affected by it, but deep down he really, really liked it. It was a funny thing to say so suddenly, but that didn't mean it didn't make him feel happy and flattered. As an alcohol enjoyer, he finds it funny you're using such an analogy for him.

Thistle: "What??" He's a bit surprised you'd say that to him of all people, but still, a soft blush appears on his cheeks due to embarrassment and a bit of confussion because he just received a compliment from someone he loves. We all know that when he cares for someone, he cares... a lot. So it means a lot to him when you choose to compliment him in such a way, even if he doesn't really get it, since it's canon he doesn't like to drink, at all, but he supposes by your comment that all wines must be sweet then and therefore it makes sense for you to say that. (Even if he doesn't think he's sweet to begin with)

Yaad: he's a softie, so his immediate reaction is a surprised expression, accompanied by a soft blooming blush on his cheeks, and then a smile. "Oh, um, thank you..." he's not sure what wine tastes like, since he didn't use to drink even when he was able to taste food and drinks, but he remembers people around him enjoying a cup of wine from time to time before, which makes him capable of appreciating the compliment. Once the initial shock calm down quickly, he composes himself and with a smile, returns the compliment: "You're very sweet yourself" keep in mind that while he's saying it he's picturing a jar of honey in his brain since it's known that honey is sweet and soft. Just like you ;)

[xoxovanillq]

STARGIRL

Pairing- Charlie Bushnell x reader

Warnings- Secret dating, Charlie calls reader his girl once at the end, but gn other than that

You laid there in his bed, head on his chest, his scent surrounding you. The cold metal of his rings rested on an exposed bit of your lower, his hand moving up and down in a soothing motion.

Everything was just, simpler, when you were with Charlie. No decisions, nothing to worry you. Well, that was when the two of you were alone. The two of you figured it was best to keep your relationship a secret, not wanting to have to deal with press or anything like that, but it also meant that friends and family couldn’t even know.

“Charlie?” You ask softly, reaching a hand out to find his. Grabbing it softly, you turn your head up, chin now resting on his chest, looking up at him.  Your fingers find his rings, sliding them up and down his fingers.

“Yeah?” He responds, voice low and gruff due to tiredness.

“When are we gonna go public?” You ask, nervous to what his reaction will be. You hear him sigh, and your heart drops in your chest.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m a bit nervous about that, but I think I’d be okay telling close friends and family, if that’s what you want.” He says sweetly, he was always so sweet with you. You shift your body, sitting up in his lap so you can see him better, taking both of his hands in yours so you can continue to mess with his rings.

“I only want it if it’s what you want.” You reply, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Then let’s do it, we can invite the group over and watch a movie or something. Then we can break it to them.” You nod as he speaks before settling back down with your head on his chest.

“So that means I’m staying the night?” You ask hopefully, earning a laugh from him.

“Well, it wouldn’t make sense for you to go home just to come back in the morning, so I guess you have to.”  He says with a smile, poking your sides to make you laugh.

You lay downstairs beside Charlie the next day, cuddle down on the couch close to him with the rest of the group around you. The two of you kept apart enough to not raise suspicions, but you held hands under the blanket. His cold rings felt nice against your hot skin. You could feel the nervous energy radiating from him as the credits came to a close and everyone started chatting. 

“You ready?” He whispers in your ear, watching intently as you nod. He clears his throat a bit, watching as people look over at you.

“Um, I know this is a little random, but we’re dating, and kinda have been for a few months.” You say quickly, Charlie squeezes your hand under the table for some support. You hear a small giggle come from both Leah and Dior, both your heads snapping over to look at them.

“We all knew something was up with you guys, but we’re happy for you, and not just because it means you two will stop ditching us randomly while we’re hanging out.” Dior says, spurring Charlie to squeeze your hand in relief.

“Were we really that obvious?” You ask, causing laughter from everyone once more.

“I think that’s your answer baby.”

Later that night, you were lying in Charlie’s bed again when he suddenly got up, walking to his dresser and retrieving something.

“What’s that?” You ask as he walks back, sitting beside you in bed. He opens his hands, revealing a gold chain with a little “C” dangling from it.

“It’s kind of a dumb idea, but I thought you might want to wear it.” He says sheepishly, a little nervous to see your reaction.

“Are you joking? I’d love to, that’s so sweet.” You say softly, turning so he can clip the necklace around your neck.

“Now everyone knows you’re my girl.”

[technofeudalism]

i've got one more wall of text in me for today. i'm sorry, but hopefully this helps more people than it annoys.

i understand the concerns people have about social media being captured to technofascist oligarchs and i share them.

however, and you can call me a boomer for this if you'd like, i am way more worried about the fact that we are watching a scarier replay of the 2016 hyper-normalization of Donald Trump already being carried out in mainstream/establishment news outlets.

Some political operatives on the right, who saw mainstream media coverage of Trump’s first term as overly hostile, say the way the press covered Trump’s first term unwittingly did him a favor.   “I do expect that the media coverage will be a little different in tone,” one national Republican strategist told The Hill this week. “Not because the media is all of a sudden planning on being more objective and less biased, but because they probably finally recognize that their over-the-top hysterical coverage has done nothing but help Trump politically.”  

there are many reason this freaks me out worse, but i can sum up a couple of them.

the rhetoric this time is a magnitude more insane and suddenly alarmingly expansionist. logic would suggest this would justify an even more critical evaluation from the media that they are seemingly neglecting to provide.

the public, thanks to total dereliction of duty by the Democrats, are far more geared up for fascist shit than ever, but are totally ignorant to how this is going to happen (concentration camps)

speaking of the Democratic party: following a series of humiliating, high profile L's, the party finds themselves leaderless and less popular than they've been in 30 years at the worst time. when asked to name the leader of the Democratic Party, 49% of registered voters couldn’t name a person or said “nobody.”

before i continue, i know that there has been a dramatic decrease in people who get their news from traditional media and instead rely on social media, podcasts and the like. that makes sense. people aren't watching cable news anymore, chiefly because fewer and fewer people under the age of 30 even have cable TV and they definitely aren't paying for a New York Times subscription.

but what people fail to consider is that the "news" people consume via social media is often rehashed or half-baked, word of mouth versions of reporting conducted by the mainstream media or the journalists who work for them. there are still journalists working for these publications who take advantage of the increased exposure podcasts provide and go on them to talk about their writing.

people hear the same stories at the end of the day, but the way the issue is initially framed when the story first "breaks" and how it is approached by other outlets who follow up on it is significant. it's a lot less work to have to clean up and suppress news on your platform when the news is already favorable to your cause.

think along the lines of a massive disinformation campaign emerging from one outlet, social media being thrown into a complete frenzy and the only journalist who knows the truth from another outlet hesitating to speak out because of threats from his publisher to keep outrage revenue high or, perhaps more ominously, to directly serve the interest of the fascists in charge.

the US media has always been servile to whims of corporate interests because... well... they are owned by the corporate interests.

but up until today, i was holding out some sliver of hope that even if the NYT, for example, wasn't taking up antifascist actions, they would hold onto a tiny bit of reliability as a further watered down version of itself. an increasingly rare, delicate weapon against misinformation on social media, as opposed to being another tool wielded by fascists on aforementioned social media to grow legitimacy and manufacture consent.

then i saw this. my feeling is now that if the New York Times can't even write a headline - with THAT photograph underneath it - that says in plain English "Elon Musk Makes Nazi Salute Twice at Trump Inauguration," then there is going to be a frightening decrease in quality journalism being funded by mainstream outlets coming.

if you are not sure what to do and you want to be well informed, i have two suggestions. the first and most important, most difficult one that is a skill hard to master, is to develop decent media literacy and an ability to derive context from history.

the second is to build a network of trustworthy local, national and global sources that you can count on. ideally, they would be completely independent and free from editorial oversight or corporate control.

here are some of my recommendations. all of them are flawed. never rely on one source. do not immediately accept something as the truth from any single source. everyone is capable of accidentally getting a detail wrong, or even deliberately misleading.

Dropsite News - ran by Ryan Grim, Jeremy Scahill

The Intercept - sadly running out of money, alleged CIA ties

Democracy Now! - more center-left, better domestically

Jacobin - wide variety, sometimes shitty takes, Alex Press is great

The Grayzone - this one is controversial (mainly just to liberals) and they make no qualms about being committed to reporting from an anti-imperialist view of the world

Black Agenda Report - perspective from Black leftists. founded by Glen Ford (RIP), a Black Panther and accomplished investigative journalist

Hasan Piker - hate him, love him, neutral, doesn't matter. he's the largest independent political commentator on the left (by far), covering news and misinformation 9 hours a day. you can think he has shit takes, but he's still a reliable source and has been insanely accurate with his opinions

The Majority Report - been around forever, Sam Seder & Emma Vigeland are amazing, once home to the incredible Michael Jamal Brooks (RIP)

Breakthrough News

Labor Notes

Ben Norton @ Global Political Economy

Caitlin Johnstone (AUS)

these are just what i could come up with but there are many more if you do a little bit of digging using these as a baseline. just remember that the source ultimately is irrelevant and will have it's own biases. it is up to you to separate fact and fiction.

[ohmyitsfaith]

Little survivors

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Eight years later, you are visited by a very strange and violent lady, who makes a deal with Five to get you out of the post-apocalyptic world. With this comes the bonus of a comfortable life and a few calm years.

Warnings: The Handler. Think I said enough. Domestic life, but starts off with the Handler threatening people. Quite physically. Also in the middle it gets a bit steamy. Talks of pregnancy and birth.

Word count: 10.6k (shit this is long)

A/n: This was also a requested fic, as a part two to Little survivor. I tried to twist the storyline a little bit, hopefully you guys will like it. I like the idea that the Commission is a part of a society where everything is disturbingly perfect. Maybe I overthought this whole thing, but honestly, it birthed a kind of great story, so... Also, I was debating splitting this into two, but then the title wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, enjoy!

As the days passed, life became harder and harder. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying time with your husband and son. Max was the cutest little kid and you really lucked out with his temperament being so good. He was the calmest little toddler, who then grew up to be a quite docile child. Sure there were a few tantrums, but in the end, he was a kind and calm little kid.

“Max!” you yelled for him as he played in front of the camp in the sand. He was now 10 years old and smarter than you thought was possible in the post-apocalyptic world. All thanks to Five, who provided the teaching material needed for him. With him working on the equations almost non-stop, it was up to you to try to get the best out of the material Five gave you.

You suddenly became aware of the deafening silence outside.

“Max?” you dropped the stick that you were using to light the fire for dinner and hurried out with your heart beating heavily in your chest.

As you rounded the corner, you saw a well-dressed woman, holding your son by his waist.

“What are you doing?!” you yelled at her, and, ready to save your son, you advanced toward her.

“Ah-ah-ah!” she held up her free hand toward you. “I wouldn’t come closer if you want this sweet little boy to live.”

“Mommy” Max whimpered in the woman’s hold.

You eyed him with worry in your eyes, then looked up, glaring at the woman.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Just an answer,” she started, “where is Number Five?”

Your heart beat even more anxiously at that question. Five went out to gather more resources for the week and he was supposed to arrive by dinnertime. You were only expecting him around the time when the sun lowered beneath the horizon and that wasn’t til later.

“I don’t- I-” you stuttered.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you know where he went” the lady said calmly and you watched in horror as a small pistol was raised toward Max. “Now, where is Number Five?”

“Please don’t! I’m begging you, I don’t know where he is!” you pleaded, now on your knees. “Don’t hurt him, he’s just an innocent boy! Please.”

In that moment, the man in question turned up. When he saw the scene in front of him, a wild fire lit inside his heart. Not only was he scared, but angry as well. Who dares to threaten his whole world?! He dropped his gatherings and grabbing his gun, he ran up behind the unfamiliar woman.

“Let. My son. Go!” he gritted his teeth, holding the gun up toward the woman’s head.

“Ah, Number Five!” the woman turned around, smiling widely. “Just the man I wanted to see!” she thankfully put the pistol away.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, still not putting his gun down, focusing fully on the woman, on every little move just in case she would hurt Max.

“Daddy” Max whimpered this time and Five’s eyes flickered over to him for just a fraction of a second.

“I’m here to help” the woman answered, still holding Max tightly.

“By holding my son hostage?” he asked, angrier than ever. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet right between your eyes!” he gritted.

“‘Cause…” the woman started, walking forward. Through your tears you could see Max struggling in her arms, trying to twist out of her hold. “If you did that, you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to give you” she said simply. “Which would be rather tragic, given your…” she looked back at you, “current circumstances.”

“What do you want? And be careful with what you say! My hands are quicker than you would expect” Five warned, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at any given moment. He just had to wait for when Max was safe out of her hands so he could shoot the woman dead.

“I work for an organization called the Commission” she started her explanation. “We are tasked with the preservation of the time-continuum through manipulation and removals.”

“I don’t understand…” Five’s eyebrows pulled together.

“Sometimes people make choices that… alter time” she shrugged. “Free will. Don’t get me started on that… When that happens, we dispatch one of our agents to… “she searched for the right words, “eliminate the threat.”

This caused Five to harden his shoulders, keeping the gun pointed at the woman, ready to shoot.

“No, no, no” she put her free hand up, chuckling. “You misunderstand me. You are not a target.”

“Then why don’t you let the boy go?” he hissed.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. I need your answer to my proposal” she smiled. “I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five” she said. “We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time. And we think you have potential!”

“What the hell are you on about?” he asked.

“Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity in the Headquarters” she explained. “The way you strive hard to protect what little you have and provide for them” she glanced back at you and then down at the boy in her hands. She reached out and caressed his head, which in turn made Five suck in a sharp breath. “That, and your ability to jump through time.”

“Don’t touch him” he hissed. “Tell me what’s in it for me? Why would I go with you?”

“You could get out of this place for one” the woman sighed. “And also go back to your family if you complete five years with us.”

“You… you’re saying we could be free?” he asked, glancing behind the woman, right at your still sobbing form.

“Once you served five years, your contract will be done, giving you a chance to retire to the time and place of your choosing” she smiled tightly.

Five thought hard about all that this woman was talking about. This could be his chance to save you, to finally give you and your family the life you deserved. He could live comfortably with you, have the domestic life you wished for and grow old.

“What about my wife and son?” he asked, which seemed to annoy the woman.

“You can bring them with you” she said and he could hear the distaste in her tone. “So, do we have an agreement?” she offered her free hand.

Five looked at you, lowering his gun slightly. You looked so scared, for him and for your son. He never wanted to see you like that. He didn’t want you to suffer. He wanted to give the both of you a chance at a normal life.

He looked at his son, who was sniffling in the woman’s arm, clearly scared out of his mind. The poor boy didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be so traumatized by this post-apocalyptic world, by this woman, who threatened his life. He should be better off, in school, with food to fill his belly, clothes that fit him well and a roof over his head.

He will do this. For you. For Max. For his family.

“Fine” he put the gun down and approached the woman to shake her hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful!” the woman lightened up, letting Max out of her hold and shaking Five’s hand.

The moment your son was out of the woman’s hold, he collapsed, his legs giving out underneath him. But in the next moment, Five reached out for him, pulling him up and lifting him into his arms.

“We shall leave momentarily. We have a lot to do” the woman turned away and walked into the little camp to sit down.

The second she was out of sight, you rushed to Five and Max and collapsed with the two of them on the floor.

“Five” you sobbed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max, oh my poor boy.”

“Mommy, daddy” he cried, grabbing onto both of you.

“You’re safe now, you’re safe” Five tried to calm the young boy, who didn’t deserve all this. He pulled you in, close, so he could take in your features, making sure you were still there. “You’re both safe.”

The first day at the Commission consisted of Five being dragged away for orientation and basic training while you and Max were herded to a room to wait for someone who would show you to your new house. 

You didn’t have to wait long: a woman with black hair and wearing a skirt suit opened the door. She had a kind smile on her face, and though she looked different and kinder than the other woman was, you still grabbed onto Max tightly.

“Oh, don’t be afraid!” she said quickly, her voice light and sweet. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Dot, I work a desk job here. And I got the honor to show you to your new home!”

Still weary, but slightly comforted, you loosen your hold on your son, who looks at Dot in curiosity.

“I’m Y/n” you decide to introduce yourself. “And this is my son, Max.”

“Oh, what a cutie. How old is he?” her smile widens, a soft glow flashing in her eyes.

“He’s ten” you look down at him, still clutching your arm tightly.

“Aw, he looks a lot like Five. And his eyes! They look just like yours” she gushes.

“Thank you” you let yourself smile a little bit.

“Now, I’m sure you’re tired and in need of a good shower. Let us get going then.”

You nod, taking Max’s hand in yours and follow Dot out the door.

“We’re actually not far from the housing, you guys got a pretty adorable family home” she looked back at you as you walked through the entrance hall and then the doors.

It was a sunny day, colder than it was in the apocalypse, but the air was much fresher here. You didn’t know what year you were in or where you were for a fact. But you were just happy to be away from that hellhole.

“Do you know if…” you started and Dot looked back at you, curiously. “If that woman… will she bother us?”

“The Handler?” she asked and you shrugged. If that was her name… “Oh I don’t think she will. She only cares about agents, so you and Max should be fine.”

“And… and Five?” your heart raced. Was he in danger?

“That, I don’t know. I would assume no. She is a big fan of his, so if anything, she’ll make sure he’s fine” Dot hummed.

“Alright” you sigh.

Dot lead you through a small garden that was the Commission’s and you found yourself in view of a village-like assortment of houses. There were some smaller family homes and then there were a couple of huge buildings, which consisted of apartments.

“Do other agents have families?” you asked as you neared the main street.

“Field agents? No, most of them are either alone or only have a partner, no kids. But many of our people in filing or some of our security actually have families. Some smaller, some bigger” she explained.

You hummed and looked down at Max. Maybe he could make friends with other children. He wouldn’t have to be alone. And you could also meet some other moms…

You rounded a corner and found yourselves in a long street, filled with family homes and a playground.

“This is the street you will be living on” Dot smiled. “If you go down the road where we came, we actually have a clothing store and grocery store, so you can buy your own stuff. A bit further from the housing area, you can find an elementary school and a high school as well. Max will be enrolled by the end of the week. You’ll receive a mail from one of our staff.”

“He can go to school?” you asked, your heart picking up pace.

“Of course!” she smiled. “Only the best teachers there.”

“Oh” you nodded.

“Well, we arrived” she stopped in front of a beautiful blue house with white picket fence and a small garden. “Hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. Five will be here any time he is free or has his day off. But don’t worry, Mary, the woman who lives in the house beside yours, and her daughters Betty and Lily are excited to get to know you guys.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was great to meet you” she stepped back and waved.

“You too” you smiled and waited for Dot to disappear down the street before squatting down in front of Max. “Are you okay?”

“Yes Mama” he nodded and though you could see a little bit of worry in his gaze, he seemed to say the truth.

“Alright darling. Shall we see what’s inside?” you caressed his cheek and he nodded, gripping onto your hand.

You stepped up the few stairs to the front door. There was a key in the door, presumably the one you were meant to use later on. You took the keys out and opened the door.

It really was a small and cute home. Everything aesthetically arranged, the walls and floors in beautiful contrast. It was a wild change from the apocalypse, where everything was very yellow most days.

Across from the front door was a kitchen and dining room with a door to the family bathroom. On your right was the master bedroom, which was painted in a similar light blue as the outside was. To the left, there were two rooms, one the living room and the other a smaller bedroom.

“Look, I think that will be your bedroom” you pointed to the open door. “Do you want to see it?”

“My… my room?” Max looked up at you, confused. “I will sleep alone?”

“Yeah” you nodded.

“But… I don’t want to” the boy’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh darling” you pulled him in your arms. “You won’t be alone. We’ll be right across from your room. We won’t be far.”

“But at night…” he sniffled. “The monsters will come.”

“Your dad will keep you safe from them” you tried to calm him. “We’ll never let them hurt you.”

But Max was crying, inconsolably. You tried to think about what you could do. How could you help him? His sobs were twisting your heart and you felt as helpless as when the Handler arrived in the afternoon. Where you were unable to move, unable to help your little boy, who didn’t deserve all that. You could only imagine what was going through his head in that moment and now, hours after it.

“Tell you what. You can sleep with us for the first few weeks, okay?” you pulled away a little, looking into his eyes. “You can get used to your room during the day. Would that be alright, darling?”

“Y-yeah” he sniffled.

“Alright, now let’s get you cleaned up and some food in your tummy, okay?”

Max nodded, still rubbing at his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked into the dining room, where the door to the bathroom could be found. There was a shower and bath combination in the opposite corner, with some soap and shampoo. It was all neatly arranged and you once again felt that jarring feeling of everything being just… off. But you just took a breath and looked at Max.

“Do you need help or can you wash your body and hair alone?” you asked gently.

“I can do it” Max squared his shoulders, trying to appear strong and you smiled. “But…” he looked up at you. “Can you stay with me?”

“Yeah, of course. How about you take your clothes off and pee while mama goes and sees if there are some clothes in your room?” you suggested.

Max’s hold on your hand tightened for a second and you could see the conflict on his little face. But then he slowly nodded and let you go.

“Alright, I’ll be right back, okay? If you’re done, then stand in the shower.”

Max nodded, looking toward the bathtub. You quickly walked to the smaller room, leaving both doors open, so you could hear your son if he needed help. In the room there was a dresser and a single bed. It was clearly meant to be a kid’s bedroom, what with the wallpaper having dinosaurs and birds on it.

You looked in the dresser to see different sized clothes, both for boys and girls. You sighed in relief and grabbed two different sizes from underwear, pants and a t-shirt, not knowing which one will be good for Max. It’s been a long while since you saw new clothes and not to mention that you never had the luxury for Max to wear the right sized clothing.

“You’re in luck” you stepped back into the bathroom. “We got some clothes here. I brought you two sizes, we’ll see which one will be good” you smiled and watched as Max nodded, stepping into the shower. “I’ll help you adjust the water” you put the clothes down on the sink and reached out to the taps. “See, this has a red dot. It means it’ll give you hot water. And on the other side is a blue dot. It means cold water” you explained to him. “Hold your hand out, underneath the tap” you instruct him, kneeling next to the tub. “I’ll start the water, okay?”

Max nodded and squatted down, holding his hand under the water.

“Tell me if it’s too warm or too cold, okay? We’ll adjust it.”

With your help, Max got the right temperature and he - albeit a bit clumsily - washed as much of the dirt away as he could. You helped with his hair a bit, but otherwise just kneeled next to the tub, so he could do most of it himself.

“Alright. That feel okay?” you asked as you helped him out of the tub and gave him a towel.

“Weird” he said simply.

“I know darling. But now you’ll get used to it. It’s going to be all okay” you promised, drying his hair. “Should we see which clothes will fit you?”

Max nodded and so you picked up the smaller underwear first. To your surprise it slid on easily, even loose around his waist a bit. You knew that Max was a smaller kid then others his age might have been and that’s all thanks to the apocalypse. But you didn’t think he was this small.

“Should I see a smaller size still?” you asked him. “Or is that comfortable.”

“It’s okay mama” he shrugged.

“As you wish,” you sigh. “Are you feeling hungry?” you helped him into his pants and shirt as well.

“A bit” he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do” you smiled at him. “Why don’t you grab a book that looks interesting to you and we’ll practice your reading while I cook?”

Max nodded and walked toward the smaller bedroom, looking back at you, to make sure you were still there. When he was reassured, he quickly went in and took a book from the bookshelf. In an instant, he was back in the corridor and taking your hand.

“Well, come on, then” you smiled gently and went up to the counter.

Max sat down at the small circular table, opening the book he grabbed. You watched him flip to the first page and looked at the words. He knew how to read, you and Five taught him. But it took him a little time.

“The story of… Doctor… Do- Dolittle?” he pronounced it slowly, then looked up for confirmation. You smiled at him encouragingly. “The first… chapter. Pudd-puddle-puddleby. O-once upon a time, many… years ago…” Max started reading slowly.

As he read, you started to look through the pantry to see what could be used to make a meal. You didn’t really know how to cook, but thankfully there were some cookbooks that you could use.

You always wanted to get out of the apocalypse, but never imagined what you’d do once you’re out. You never wondered about some of the simple facts of a normal life. Like how to cook. But you were ready to learn. Anything really.

You and Max spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. He read slowly, page after page and you trying to put a meal together for your little family.

“Y/n, Max?” you heard the door opening and Five calling out to you.

“In the kitchen!” you called back just as Max sprang from his seat, running toward Five, yelling: “Daddy!”

You smiled as you walked toward them, seeing Five embrace the boy.

“Hey, little crumb. How was your afternoon?” he asked. “What did you do? Oh and what is that smell? Is that your hair?”

“Yeah! We showered! And daddy, you know, the soap smells so good!” Max rushed out.

“Does it now?” he smiled. “Well, I’ll have to see it for myself.”

“And I read a book about a magic doctor! He can talk to animals!”

“He can?” he laughed gently. “You’ll have to read it for me too, son.”

“C’mon!” Max stood up and pulled him toward the kitchen.

“Hey” Five smiled as he reached you.

“Hi, how was the orientation and training?” you asked, reaching out to him.

“Boring” he sighed and leaned over to peck your lips. “But I got my first assignment. I’ll be going there tomorrow.”

“For how long?” you asked, worried.

“Shouldn’t be long. It’s supposed to be part of the training, with a more experienced agent by my side, so maybe that day? Or two?” he guessed.

“Alright” you sighed.

“You’ll be alright?” he asked gently.

“I will” you nodded. “Just be careful.”

“I will” he promised.

You sighed and pulled away, turning to the stove, where the food was finishing cooking. As you prepared the plates, Max explained the plot of Dolittle to Five, excited about the story.

“Alright boys, it’s time to eat” you put their plates in front of them, full of warm food. “I hope it’s good.”

“I’m sure it is” Five smiled at you.

Truly, it was not so bad. It was definitely better than what you ate in the apocalypse, which was a relief. And even though you cooked the normal amount, there was so much left after you finished eating, you felt worried. You knew it would take time to get used to eating like normal humans, but you couldn’t help but worry about your son.

After dinner, you heard the clock chime loudly from the living room.

“What was that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh, they didn’t explain it to you?” Five looked at you. “In the evening and morning the clocks chime to signal the end and the beginning of the day. We’re supposed to go to bed.”

“Oh” you frowned. “Okay.”

“We’ll get used to it” he comforted and turned to Max. “Well, little crumb, could you show me which soap was so good smelling?”

“Yes!” he perked up and jumped off his chair. “Come on daddy!”

You smiled at the two of them before picking up the plates and washing them. You once again marveled about the way water felt on your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around the day you had. It was so far-fetched and such an outlandish idea, that your brain couldn’t accept it.

“Mama, could you read a bed-time story for me?” Max came to the kitchen, forcing you out of your thoughts.

“Sure thing, baby. Would you like me to read Dr. Dolittle?” you smiled gently.

“No” he shook his head. “I want to read it myself. Could you read something else?”

“Of course” you smiled. “Let’s go to the room and see what we have.”

You soon found a book called “The Wheel on the School”, which Max liked the sound of, so you gave it to him and turned around to look for some pajamas for him.

“What are you looking for, mama?” he asked curiously.

“Some pajamas” you looked back at him. “You know, when you go to sleep, you are supposed to wear some clean, comfortable clothes to bed” you explained to him.

“Oh.”

“Here you go, son” you gave him the pair you found.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“Will you wear pajamas?” he asked as you went to the master bedroom.

“Yes, but first I need to shower as well.”

“Okay…” Max nodded. “Will daddy stay with me until then?”

“Of course” you nodded. “Now get into bed, I’ll read to you, until daddy finishes showering.

Max climbed on top of the king-sized bed and lay down beneath the sheets, in the middle.

“Comfortable?” you asked and Max nodded. So you started reading to him.

When Five came out of the bathroom, he found the beautiful scene in front of him. Max, in the bed, lying sleepily beneath the sheets, fighting to keep his eyes open, and you, sitting in the armchair close to the bed, reading to him in a soft voice. Five’s heart jumped, filled with warmth and love. His little family, who survived so much and who deserved the world. The reason he was doing all of this.

You finished reading and put the book down, looking at your fast-asleep son. You smiled gently and walked over to him, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. Then you looked up at the door, where Five was standing. He was clean and shaven. You smiled at him and walked up to him.

“You look good” you said to him sincerely.

“Thank you” he smiled and put his hand on your waist, pulling you in. “I didn’t dare to shave it clean, so I left a little stubble.”

“It looks good” you leaned into him, putting your hand on his jaw. “It feels good.”

Five let out an airy laugh and hugged you properly. The day was crazy and he couldn’t be more thankful for your strong presence.

“I love you so much” he murmured.

“I love you more” you teased, pulling a bit away, so you could put your hand on his cheek again.

“Not possible” he smiled.

“Everything’s possible” you countered and then leaned in to kiss him.

He held you close, gripping your waist tightly. In the unfamiliar setting, he finally found something familiar: you. The way you taste was still the same, your lips reacting to his. He was glad to be kissing you once again.

“I wish…” you sigh against his lips.

“You wish?” he murmurs, not wanting to let you go.

“I wish we were alone now. If just for a moment” you finish your sentence, kissing him again. “But I need to shower and our son is lying in our bed.”

“Hm, maybe later then” he surmised.

“In a few weeks. He will get used to his own bedroom and then…” you smirked at him cheekily.

“Can’t wait” he smiled, warmth and passion glinting in his eyes.

A month later, Five finally got his first paycheck in his hands. And he couldn’t believe his eyes. When they said that the payout for a good performance was great, he thought that they would pay him good. But not this good! For weeks now he thought about what he could buy from the first paycheck. He could get more groceries, he could buy his son some clothes that would fit him and also could be his own choosing, he could buy you a beautiful dress, like the ones you fantasized about in the apocalypse and… Well… the most pressing one in his mind was a ring. So that you could wear the sign of your love.

And so, without much thinking, as his hours were done, he immediately blinked to the street of stores in the city. He found the jewelers and went in.

“Hi! I’m looking for wedding rings?” he smiled lightly.

⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎

You were in the kitchen, making a fruit salad when the door slammed.

“Max, I told you, be careful of the door!” you yelled out.

“Sorry mama,” he rushed in.

“How was school, dear?”

“Good! Bennet played with me in recess!” he beamed.

“Oh really? And what did you play?” you smiled and Max took a deep breath before he started gushing about his day in school.

True to Dot’s words, at the end of your first week in Temps, a letter arrived in your mailbox. In it, they stated that Max would join class 4/B, which is right in his age-group and well within his skillset. They also sent over some paperwork, essential for securing his identity as a citizen.

The first week in school was… trying to say the least. But thanks to Max’s good temperament, it became easier and easier each day.

Now, in the third week of school, Max was starting to make friends. The left side neighbor’s twin daughters Betty and Lily were also in Max’s class, so them, and now apparently Bennet as well, became fast friends.

It turned out that Betty and Lily’s mother, Mary, was working in a café on the street where the school was located, so after a couple hang-outs with the three of them: a deal was made. She would take the kids to school on most days, and when she wasn’t working, you would walk them.

Mary was also very helpful with understanding the town’s rules. The chimes from the clock in the morning and evening were only the beginning. There were also some other things like: lunch was strictly at 12pm, at 3pm you had to have a coffee break (or tea break for the kids) and chat with either your neighbors or your co-workers and also, there was a curfew of 8pm being the latest you could leave the house. You also couldn’t work into the night (the only exception being the night guards at the Commission building) and couldn’t leave your house before 7am. There were some others as well, but they were not essential to your days.

Now, after a month, you were finally starting to get used to Temps’ weird rules and even weirder people. Still, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief whenever 8pm rolled around and you could be alone in the privacy of your home with your husband and son.

“…And can you imagine? Bennet said it was such a cool game!” Max was still gushing about recess and you couldn’t help but smile.

Since he started eating more and healthier, he started growing. Not much in a month, but his clothes now fit perfectly on him and you didn’t have to fold the bottom of his pants up anymore. There was also a healthy glow to him, his hair becoming fuller and shining brighter. You were so glad to see the change.

“Honey, I’m home!” you heard Five call out to you and you smiled as Max’s rambling stopped and his eyes lit up.

“Daddy!” he ran to Five as he reached the kitchen door.

“Hi little crumb” Five smiled and squatted down to embrace him. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, the best!” Max beamed. “Bennet played with me in recess!”

“Oh really? Wow!” Five laughed, happy for his son. “That’s amazing, baby!”

“It was! And he invited me over for a sleepover!” he mentioned, which caused you to stop smiling and looked at Five, who also looked at you.

“Really? You haven’t said that yet” you put the spoon down into the bowl and walked to your boys. “Did he ask his mom?”

“He said he would once he got home” Max looked at you. “Mama, can I go?”

“I don’t know son, we haven’t talked to Bennet’s mom yet. We don’t know if she agreed to host the sleepover” you sighed and you could see Max’s face fall.

“Tell you what. If they show up, we’ll talk about it” Five tried to reassure the boy, but it didn't help much. He pulled away from both of you and turned to walk down the hall and into his bedroom.

You sighed again, sad to see your son so sad. Five stood up and you could see that he shared that compliment. But there truly was nothing you could do.

So you went back to mixing the fruit bowl together and Five went back to the door so he could take his shoes off before joining you in the kitchen.

“So, how was work today?” you asked.

“It was… fine” he shrugged. “I got my first pay-check.”

“Oh, yeah?” you looked up at him.

“Yeah and, I was surprised to say the least” Five sighed and got the paper out of his suit pocket. “Look at this” he walked up to you and showed you the paper. You almost dropped the bowl from your hands.

“What?!” you asked. “Is that real?”

“Apparently so” he nodded.

“Oh my God…” you blinked, looking up at him. “What do we even do with all that…”

“I don’t know” he sighed. “Well… this months’ I know, because I-”

But at that moment there was a knock from the door. You and Five looked at each other before walking up to the door. Through the glass, you could see a woman standing there. You looked at Five again before opening the door.

“Good afternoon” she greeted.

“Good afternoon” you greeted back with Five. “What can we help you with?”

“Oh my son, Bennet came home from school saying he wanted to invite Max around for a sleepover” she smiled.

“Oh, you must be Sharon!” you smiled at her. “I’m Y/n, and this is Five, my husband.”

Bennet peeked out from behind her and looked up at you.

“Good afternoon” he said shyly.

“Hi, Bennet” you smiled at him as well, then looked up at Sharon. “Would you like some fruit salad? I just finished making it.”

“Thank you so much” she nodded and followed you inside.

“Five, would you be so kind and tell Max that his friend is here?” you looked at him and he nodded. You reached up to take five small bowls out and turned back to Bennet and Sharon. “Bennet, a fruit salad?”

“Yes, thank you” he said just in time when Max came bounding out of the room.

“Bennet!” he shouted happily. “Good afternoon Mrs Meyer.”

“Hi Max” she smiled and let the boys sit together.

“Sharon, a fruit salad?” you looked at her.

“Thank you, I’ll take one” she agreed and you put some of the fruit salad in her bowl as well before placing it in front of the two guests.

“Max, Five?” you asked.

“Yes, thank you mama!” Max agreed loudly, while Five just nodded.

“Here you go, boys” you gave one to each of them. “So, Sharon. You were saying?”

“Bennet wanted Max over for a sleepover” she started. “I have no objections to Max spending the night if you are okay with it as well.”

“Yes, we…” Five started before rethinking his choice of words. “What I mean is, as you know Max had a difficult time adjusting to being away from us at night. We don’t wish to give you any trouble, should he get scared and decide that being houses away from us is too much.”

“I promise daddy, I won’t!” Max immediately said. “I’ll be good!”

“I have no doubt about that, sweetheart. We just don’t want you to feel scared.”

“But mama…” he looked at you sadly.

“How about we put down some ground rules?” Sharon suggested.

“What do you suggest?” Five asked.

So in over an hour, you talked it all out. You agreed that she could take the boys and there wouldn’t be a word about disobeying the Meyer parents’ words. If that would happen, they couldn’t go over to the other’s house for a week. The boys thought that over and then agreed.

“Max, come with me, we’ll put your clothes together” you told your son.

He eagerly followed you to his room, jumping around as he watched you grab a bag from the top of the dresser. You told him what to grab and he rushed to find it and give it to you. You neatly folded them into his overnight bag and once everything was in, you zipped it in and grabbed his hands.

“Listen son, this is the first time you’ll be away from us at night” you started. “But I want you to enjoy this. If you find yourself afraid, remember: mommy and daddy will always protect you. There’s nothing that can harm you” you told him and he nodded slowly. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, mama” he smiled and let you pull him in for a hug. You pressed a kiss to his head and smiled at him.

“Alright,” you stood up and walked out with him to the kitchen. “We’re ready.”

“Well, thank you so much for the fruit salad, it was really good” Sharon stood up, Bennet coming up beside her.

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Hargreeves!” he beamed.

“You’re very welcome. And Sharon, thank you so much for letting the boys have this sleepover. If this goes well, the next one is on us.”

Sharon nodded and herded the boys outside. You stopped in the doorway and Five came up to hug you from behind. You watched as Bennet and Max excitedly chattered, happy to spend time together. Five pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder as you sighed, filled with worry.

Though Max looked engrossed in his conversation with Bennet, he thankfully looked back at you two and waved goodbye. You forced a smile and waved back. You stayed out until the Meyers’ car disappeared from view and then Five gently led you back inside.

“It’s going to be okay, my love” he said gently, hand around your waist and his other hand leading you. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know” you sighed, sitting on the couch with him. “I’m just worried.”

“I know, darling” he pulled you in his arms, holding you close. “But look at the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“He felt up to going. Remember the first week? He couldn’t even let you go to the bathroom alone. Now he’s finally healing” he explained.

“You’re right” you nodded. “Still, it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“And it doesn’t have to. You’re his mom, of course you worry about him” he reassured you. “How about I take your mind off of it?”

“What do you have in mind?” you looked at him.

“Remember our wedding?” he pulled a bit away from you and turned you to face him.

“How could I forget?” you smiled.

“Well, we’ve been married for… about fifteen years.”

“Yeah?” you blinked. “It’s been that long?”

“Yeah” he chuckled. “And I finally bought the one missing thing from that day.”

“You did?” your heart picked up speed.

“I did” he pulled the box out of his pocket. “It’s not exactly what I imagined… and I wish we could’ve chosen it together, but… I just wanted to surprise you” he opened the box and the sight of the two golden rings in it made tears spring in your eyes.

“Oh Five” you sobbed, reaching a shaky hand out to cover his own.

“Do you like it?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.

“They’re perfect” you sniffled, smiling through your tears. “God, they’re so perfect.

“I’m glad you think so” he smiled sweetly and reached into the box, picking up the smaller ring. “May I?” he asked, holding his free hand out.

You nodded and offered him your right hand. He pulled it on your finger, then raised it up to kiss it. You sniffled as he reached his hands out to wipe your fingers.

“My beautiful bride, the gorgeous mother of my child” he murmured. “Thank you so much for staying with me.”

You sniffled, trying to keep your sobs and tears in. You reached shakily for the other ring and took Five’s right hand in yours.

“You’re the love of my life” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “I love you so much” you pushed the ring up on his ring finger gently, putting your own right hand next to it. “I can’t believe we finally have these…”

“I couldn’t be happier” Five turned his right hand and took your hand, caressing your knuckles.

“I’m so happy” you agreed, wiping your tears and looking up at him. “Thank you. For everything you do for us.”

“I love you” he replied.

“I love you too” and finally Five leaned in and kissed you.

It was so soft, so full of love, you couldn’t comprehend how there could be so much love. But you just pulled him closer, your hand going up to his soft hair, grabbing a fistful of it. His hands went to your waist and pulled you in his lap oh so gently.

“Five…” you breathed into his mouth, trying to convey the message you couldn’t form with words.

“Y/n…” he sighed, pulling your lips back on his, while guiding his hand holding your waist down to your ass, so in the next moment he could stand up with you in his arms.

You yelped, but then you were back to kissing him, letting his tongue in your mouth as he walked with you toward your bedroom. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing your bodies together. You were in the bedroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, the door slamming shut behind you.

The sixth month of your stay at Temps became a huge deal. Not only was it a really long time that you could stay in one place and be perfectly comfortable, but also it became a big milestone in your lives.

Around the fourth month of staying in Temps, you found out something really big. Like huge. It wasn’t something you were expecting or hoping for, but you were still really happy. You still remember talking about this with Five.

“So… uh, Five?” you started the conversation one night after you put Max down to sleep.

“Yeah?” he looked at you, climbing into bed and pulling you in close.

“You know when we were talking about Max, way back when…” you tried to find the right words.

“Back when…” he tried to urge you on with your explanation. “In the apocalypse?”

“Yeah…” you nodded into his shoulder, trying to contain your anxiety mixed with excitement. “Specifically when he was just a little toddler.”

“Hm, still not sure which conversation you refer to” he hummed.

“Well it wasn’t just that one time we talked about this. But that was the first time. Actually we talked a lot about this, all things considered” you explained vaguely.

“Is it about his normal life?” he asked.

“No- well partly” you agreed.

“So… what is it, Y/n?” he caressed your shoulder.

“Okay, okay” you got up suddenly, kneeling beside him. “So… things have been going better for us, right?”

“Yeah” he nodded, turning to his side to look at you properly.

“And we’re no longer in the apocalypse…”

“Thankfully.”

“And, well… I know it’s a bit late and Max is so old now, but…” you stopped for a second, not sure if Five will be happy.

“But…?” he was holding his breath now, you could tell.

“I’m- I’m pregnant” you finally blurted it out.

For a moment there was silence. You could see the wheels turning in Five’s head. Then he was up on his knees as well.

“Are you serious?” he asked, shocked.

“Y-yeah” you nodded, afraid of his reaction.

“You’re really, really serious?” he grabbed onto your hands.

“Yes. Are you-” but you couldn’t even finish your question because Five grabbed you by your sides, pulling you close and squeezing you.

“You’re really pregnant” he whispered, though you couldn’t decide whether it was a question or a statement.

“Yeah” you whispered back, still a little confused about his reaction being happy or not so much.

“Oh my God…” he breathed out and that’s when you became aware of his shaking body and the sudden wetness at your neck, where Five buried his head.

You finally smiled and let yourself get lost in Five’s warm embrace and pure love.

And since then you tried to figure out Max’s stance on siblings. You haven’t popped yet, so you could hide it from him, even if that made you feel bad. You never really had secrets in front of Max, especially not big ones that concerned his future as well.

But you heard enough horror stories about kids reacting badly about a new addition to the family before, so you wanted to be prepared. You didn’t want Max to feel like he’s loved less just because there will be a baby in the house. And though you didn’t ask him right out about siblings, there were a number of ways you deduced whether or not Max was ready for a baby sibling.

Today, you noticed in the morning, while you were getting dressed, that your stomach seemed a lot… bigger. It took only a second to realize what happened: you popped. So it was time.

By some twist of fate, it was Five’s day off. And so, immediately as you noticed, you stalked out into the kitchen, where he prepared morning coffee and breakfast.

“Five” you whispered. It was still early in the morning and you didn’t want to wake Max up.

“Yes, my love?” he asked, looking up from his book.

“I popped!” you smile at him, turning to the side, so he could see the big change in your figure.

“Oh my God!” he put his book down, eyes filled with wonder. “You really did!”

He stood up from his seat and walked to you, so he could caress over the bulge of your stomach. You were looking up at his face, seeing him so focused on your belly, eyes full of wonder and love.

“You’re so amazing” he whispered, his free hand going around your waist and pulling you close.

“No, you are” you smiled, lifting his chin with a hand. “Without your hard work, we wouldn’t be here, safe. But thanks to you, Max could heal, we could build a life and also,” you put your hand on his, that was still caressing your baby bump, “expand our little family.”

Five smiled at you gratefully, then leaned in to kiss your lips sweetly. He pulled your robes in again, when he suddenly heard shifting from Max’s room and smiled at you encouragingly.

“Today’s the day.”

“Yeah” you sighed and sat down at the table, grabbing one toast from the pile.

The next moment, Max’s door opened and your son stumbled out, completely out of it from sleep. You smiled at his sleepy face and the way he sluggishly walked toward you and Five.

“Hey there, little crumb” Five smiled, embracing his son when he reached him. “How did you sleep?”

The only answer was a little grunt, which made both Five and you giggle lightly. Contrary to you and Five, Max was not a morning bird. While both you and Five got out of bed easily in the mornings, on most days you had to practically drag your son out.

“Darling, come, there is breakfast here for you” you said gently and pulled a chair out for your son to sit down on. “How about some milk, would you like some?”

Max nodded slowly and sat down next to you. You got up to grab the milk, pouring some for the young boy.

“Here you go” you smiled at him.

Breakfast went by in silence, Max waking up more and more as he ate. Soon, he was starting to chit-chat about the weekend and how you could go to the playground.

“We can, right?” he looked at the two of you and you shared a look with your husband.

“Not right now, son” Five put a hand on his smaller one. “Actually, mama and I want to talk to you.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, immediately scared about being told off.

“No, no” you said quickly, placing a hand on his other hand. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. There’s just something that’s… Well…”

“There will be some changes in our lives…” Five helped you out. “Soon.”

“What changes?” Max looked between you.

“Well… you know how mama has been feeling unwell for the past few weeks?”

“Is… is mama sick?” Max turned to you, his eyes filling with tears.

“No darling, I’m very healthy” you smiled gently at him. “The sickness has been caused by something else” you thought for a moment on how to approach the subject. “You know Betty and Lily, how they’re sisters?” Max nodded. “They were born on the same day. But you can have siblings a few years in-between.”

“Like Dean and Paul?” he asked, referring to his classmate, who had a younger brother.

“Yes, like Dean and Paul” you nodded.

“What we’re trying to tell you is that mama is now…” Five started. “Well, mama is carrying a baby. In her stomach.”

“What?” Max looked at you, his brain working overtime.

“Yeah, darling” you moved a bit around the table, so he could see your midsection and you opened your robes. “I’m pregnant.”

Max blinked a couple times, reaching out to touch your stomach as if not trusting his eyes. “There’s a baby in there?”

“Yeah” Five nodded.

“And… he is going to be my little brother?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Or sister, we don’t know their gender yet” you smiled. “Are you happy?”

At that question Max’s eyes filled with tears and moved in to hug you. He was gentle, steering clear from your belly. There, he nestled his face into you and nodded a little.

Around your one year mark of staying at Temps, you were about ready to pop. You ached everywhere, your feet were swollen and you were constantly tired. It was no longer fun being pregnant.

But in hindsight, it was a better pregnancy than it was with Max. There were obvious differences and not just because you were in an apocalypse then. Your stomach was bigger and rounder than it was with him and also, your feet had swollen more.

You were ready for the baby, more so than you were when you learned that Five was going on a longer mission in a few days.

“Come on, baby. I don’t want your father missing your arrival” you groaned as you tried to get off of the couch in the afternoon. “He deserves to be there to greet you. Please.”

But the only thing you can do is wait. Wait for the baby to feel ready. Your doctor said that from the 38th week, it can happen any day. And you couldn’t be more happy about that fact. You were ready for them to arrive.

But they didn’t arrive that day. Nor the next one. And Five’s departure for his mission just kept crawling closer.

“Don’t worry” Five tried to placate you every night. “They’ll be here soon. And I’ll be right by your side.”

You talked to Mary about this as well. She was nice enough to offer Max a place to stay, should your labor start during the day. Which was also a big question mark in your head.

“What if my water breaks during the night? After the curfew starts? What then?”

“Well…” Five looked up from where he was massaging your feet. “I helped deliver Max, so I don’t think we’re in any danger.”

“Yeah, but what if you’re gone by the time this little one decides to come to the world?” you huffed.

“That won’t happen” Five got up and leaned over the armchair to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”

“I hate this” you pouted.

“I know” he smiled gently and then went back to massaging your swollen feet.

On the last day, you start feeling worse. In the morning, you found some weird substance in your underwear, which at first weirded you out, then realized that it was probably related to your pregnancy. Your doctor was on a day off, so you couldn’t go in, but you could go to the payphone at the end of the street and call them.

They told you, after explaining what happened, that that was a good sign. Your labor was finally approaching. It still could be days but it could be only hours. They also told you to call them if any more advancements are made.

The whole day, you barely got anything done. You tried to do something as simple as sweeping the floor, but your back started aching almost instantly. You did manage to make some warm food for dinner, when your two boys showed up.

“Hi mama” Max came home first, but only a couple minutes before Five showed up.

“Hi darling” his smooth voice called from the hallway. “What did the doctor say?”

“To call them when my water breaks” you sighed, rubbing at your lower stomach.

Five hummed and came up to press a kiss to your cheek, then to Max’s, who was sitting beside you, caressing your stomach.

“The baby doesn’t move as much” Max voiced his sorrow.

“They’re sleeping more” you explained. “They’re getting ready to see you.”

“Really?” he looked up at you.

“Really” you smiled gently.

Time ticked by, slowly, even as you wished it would rush. You were in so much discomfort, you really wished that time would pass, so you could just FINALLY-

In that moment, a weird sensation ran through you and you felt a warm sensation run down your legs. Looking down, you saw that your previously dry pants were no longer dry.

Breathing hard and slightly panicked, you yelled out: “Five!”

In just a fraction of a second, Five blinked next to you and grabbed your hand, looking frantic.

“What happened?” he asked, clearly just as panicked as you.

“My… my water just broke!” you told him, still in shock. “What- what do we do?”

“Uh…” Five looked up at the clock. It was 7pm. He could try calling your doctor, but it was unlikely that they would be able to come and it was an hour til curfew. “Shit… I’ll go call the doctor, you… just try to breathe and lie down.”

He quickly made your bed, heaping the pillows, so you would be in a half-sitting, half-lying down position. He helped you lie down and then blinked into Max’s room, where he was reading his favorite book. Soon, Max was knocking on your bedroom door and then peeking his head in.

“Mama?” he asked, looking slightly scared.

“Hey darling” you breathed out, wincing at a sudden pain in your lower stomach.

“Is the baby coming?” he walked up to the bed.

“Yeah, I think they want to” you sighed.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah” you nodded, not wanting to lie. “It hurts really badly. But don’t worry, they’ll be here soon and it won’t hurt anymore.”

“Can I help?” he asked, ever the caring little boy.

“You could bring me a glass of water while daddy gets back” you smiled at him as gently as you could.

Max nodded and rushed out to fill a glass with fresh water. He was soon back, giving it to you.

“Thank you darling” you sighed as you took a couple sips.

Five was back within a couple minutes, but not with good news.

“I reached the doctor, but they can’t come” he sighed, frustrated. “He said your delivery could be an hour from now or even 24.”

“Oh God…” you sighed, dropping your head back down. “So I’ll just suffer here?”

“I’m here with you. We’ll get through this” Five took your hand gently in his, then looked back at your son, who was waiting by the bedside table, tears in his eyes. “Max, darling, I think you should go to bed. Mama will be alright” he said gently.

“But I don’t want to leave her. She’s hurt” he sniffled.

“Darling…” Five walked to him, but you interrupted him.

“Let him be here” you told him. “But Max, you have to do what daddy tells you, while you’re here, okay? Once the baby starts coming, mama will be in a lot of pain and you can’t stand in daddy’s way.”

“I promise to be a good boy” he nodded eagerly. “Please, daddy.”

“Fine” Five sighed. “I’ll get some towels.”

Your labor advances quite slowly and every half an hour you get up to walk around with Five’s help. You couldn’t be happier that he was there with you. And Max, he seemed to grow up quite a lot in the hours since your labor started. You of course wished you could spare the young boy from seeing you in pain, but you also didn’t want him to have to be scared in his room as he heard you scream through your delivery.

Which he instead got to experience right by your side. Though Five told him that he didn’t have to take your hand as you couldn’t control how tightly you hold onto it, he did anyway. His eyes were filled with tears, but he didn’t let go of your hand as you delivered the baby, his sibling.

It was quite a shorter process than it was with Max, but somehow more painful. But that all washed away, when Five finally handed them to you.

“It’s a little girl” Five said, tears in his eyes, looking at the crying baby. “I’m so proud of you, darling” he leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead.

You sobbed as you held your little girl close, so small and fragile. Five disappeared into the bathroom to wash all the blood and other fluids away from his hands and arrived back to seeing Max on the side of the bed, looking down at his sister.

“She’s so tiny” he said quietly.

“Yeah. But you were smaller” you smiled at him.

“Really?” he blinked, his eyes big.

“Yes” Five agreed, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning up the area. “Max, how is your hand?”

The little boy seemed to only just notice his hand, too preoccupied by his sister. He lifted it and showed the red marks on it, that resembled your fingers.

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry” you teared up again. “Mama didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay mama” he smiled. “It hurts, but you were hurt more.”

“You’re such a strong kid” Five praised him, kissing his head. “But come on, I’ll get some ice on that for you.”

“But mama…” he started, but then just nodded.

Once things calmed down, Max was sitting on one side of you and Five the other. You looked at your husband.

“What do you think her name should be?”

“I was kind of thinking about flowers…” he hummed.

“What about Penny though?” Max chimed in, looking at his baby sister in your arms.

“Penny? Why Penny?” you asked him gently.

“I don’t know” he shrugged.

“Well, I like Penny” Five agreed with his son. “Not my first idea, but I like the name.”

“I do too” you nodded, smiling down at your sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Penny.”

Days, months, years passed in Temps as your little family grew. Max was now 13 and baby Penny 2. They were the bestest friends, even when Max’s temper got the best of him. He was going into puberty, his hormones working more and more. But the one thing he never did was hurt his baby sister, no matter what. He was gentle with her at all times.

Five was working hard. Not just with the Commission jobs, but with the equations to get you back to 2019, back to his family. He was getting closer and closer to the answer every day, but didn’t know how close.

One day though, when he was waiting to finish his work for that day, he looked through his book again. There it was. The answer. His heart beat fast as he stared at the book. He could finally… they could finally go…

But before he could think more about it, he had to finish the job and get back home as soon as he could. He needed to see Y/n, the kids. So for the next few minutes, with his heart beating fast, he waited with bated breath, keeping his gun trained on where the target would be. It was only minutes, but he felt like hours passed. He never thought time could pass by so slow.

And when the job was finally done, he wasted no time in jumping back to the Commission, passing his briefcase down and blinking into your home.

“Y/n, get the kids, we’re going” he yelled immediately, pulling his book out.

“Going? Where?” you asked from the kitchen, where you were feeding baby Penny.

“Back to my family” he said lowly when he reached the kitchen. “Come on, before they realize what I’m planning.”

“Okay” you breathed out, anxiety coursing through your veins. You put the bowl from your hands and picked her up from the highchair. “Max!” you yelled from your son as you followed Five to the living room.

“Yeah?” he called from his room.

“Come on, put your shoes on. We’re going home.”

“Home? We are…” Max stopped as he realized you didn’t mean this home. You meant the home in another time. Without another word, he put his shoes on, also picking up baby Penny’s shoes and your own as well. “Here you go, mom.”

“Thank you” you smiled thankfully at him, taking Penny’s shoes first.

“Stand by the door. This portal will be big” Five instructed, stepping back as well, his hands curling into fists.

Max took Penny from your hands so you could pull your own shoes up. The living room was suddenly lit in a blue light and you could hear Penny coo at it.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Max asked and gave her back, when you finished tying your shoes.

Suddenly there was a… fire extinguisher? flying through the portal and you only just pulled Max out of the way from it.

“Woah…” Max looked at the objects now rolling on the floor.

“Take my hand” Five suddenly yelled, reaching back for Max. “And take your mother’s.”

Max immediately took yours in his right then Five’s in his left hand. “Dad…” he didn’t, couldn’t say more, but Five looked at him.

“It’s gonna be alright” he said as gently as he could.

With that, you all took a step forward, holding each other’s hands. Going through the portal felt like wading through thick mud, the energy around you almost forcing you back. But your strong hold on each other didn’t let it.

Soon you were falling, your hand letting go of Max’s as you curled your arms around Penny, to protect her from the fall. Five did the same thing with Max and you all landed in a heap.

Groaning, you got off of Five, Penny safe in your arms. Five stood up as well, looking at Max who was…

“Mama?” the word made you turn to… little Max.

“What…” you blinked, looking at your husband, who was…

“Does anyone see little Number Five and other kids, or is that just me?” a guy asked from your right, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Five.

“Five…” you whispered, confused and shocked, bouncing a crying baby Penny in your arms.

“Y/n…” he looked you up and down, then himself as well. “Shit…”

[Part 1] [Masterlist] [Part 3]

Taglist: @snixx2088, @piopoi87, @izzyj12119, @groovydazephantom

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Phainon inspecting your body

Phainon x gn! reader

cw: dubcon-ish touch and exposure, yandere Phainon, suggestive, clothes withholding, love bombing, humiliation, reader is insecure, Phainon is slightly delusional. Word count: 1.5k

Imagine Phainon being so obsessed with you that he feels compelled to inspect every part of your body.

There was nothing about you that Phainon didn’t glorify, whether some parts of you would be considered as imperfections by others or not. Anything less fitting for the beauty canon only made you more human to him.

Unfortunately for you, such sentiments got him force you to face each of your insecurities, as you now stood in front of him in nothing but your underwear, for him to inspect your body. You weren’t much eager to end up in this situation, but Phainon’s few sweet and affectionate poet-like lines got you convinced enough to let him put you in this state. Suddenly, your shared bedroom no longer felt like a safe space for you to rest in his arms and talk to him about anything your mind has gathered throughout the day.

You didn’t move, a sense of shame and humiliation burning you and keeping you in your spot. Instead, it was Phainon circling you, his eyes scanning each part of your body with looks of appreciation or analysis. You’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life before, because while you’ve been intimate with Phainon before, he never made it a show of scrutinizing you; or rather, it was easy to forget yourself and acknowledgment of your physical being when lost in bliss.

You felt even more nervous when he finally stopped in front of you, a supposedly warm smile on his face. What will he do now? “You look so tense as if I’m going to eat you up or something,” he chuckled lightly, his voice so soft that it didn’t match the stressful situation. “I just wish to admire my other half for a little bit.”

Phainon was either not aware of the discomfort and creep this circumstance would have brought anyone, or he simply made you look like a fool here—you’re so silly, so shy, so insecure over nothing and he’s your loving lover worshipping you regardless.

When his hand landed on your stomach, you immediately tried to grab his hand, but he kept it on your belly. “Phainon, I think you’ve seen enough!” you protested in distress, feeling out of your body’s comfort, when he caressed one of the rolls here. “Shh, my love. You have nothing to worry about,” he said reassuringly and kissed your forehead, but any further protests, he’ll simply ignore. In his mind, you were just too self conscious over nothing, and exposure therapy might do you well. Isn’t this what people wanted, to be accepted by their partners for each part of them? He found you most beautiful anyway.

You felt like crying. Your belly was one of the most sensitive spots on the list of your insecurities, and now you had to be worried where his hand will land next. And you were right to worry, as his right hand ended going up onto your nose next.

“Such a cute nose,” he said gently, rubbing his finger down the bridge of your nose that was curving to the side. A little bit crooked, enough to make you hate it sometimes. Your nose scrunched upon his touch, both from intrusion and your growing sense of unease, only for Phainon to chuckle again. “You are quite sensitive here too! Maybe I should kiss your face all over the next time.”

The idea should have sounded affectionate to you, yet with how unbearable he made his touches, his words filled you only with worry. You really weren’t sure how comfortable with Phainon’s touch you will be after he’s finally, hopefully, done with the body inspection. “Phainon, I’m not feeling like—“ you tried to say no again, but you gave up in the middle when you noticed he wasn’t even listening to you. You assumed letting him do this will end this circus show sooner.

Phainon was instead busy being marveled by the idea of your beauty he created in his mind; coming up with it each moment of analyzing and deciding that you have a lot he loved about, but even more he didn’t want others to see. “I don’t think I ever want to let you go, beloved,” he whispered to himself.

It was becoming ironic that any other day you’d cry from the happiness hearing such words, only for them to be uncomfortable to hear this time.

Phainon moved to stand behind you next moment, making you feel less in control when you couldn’t see his face and judge his intention on it. You jolted when he touched your back, no matter how warm his hand was. The spot was so specific and you knew he found your mole, one you always hid by denying yourself of backless clothes; more darker and bigger than the rest, enough for you to deem it as disgusting.

His voice was cheerful anyway, “Haha, I must have left that mole on your back in the previous life you had. I’ve heard that moles are where a soulmate kissed you in your previous existence.” The implication of him considering himself to be your soulmate in this life too was clear. Would you really want to be bonded to him for the rest of your life? You felt loved by Phainon, but each day of Phainon monopolizing you in his life has started to overwhelm you lately.

At this point, tears started to gather on your lashline. Phainon didn’t see your face, but he noticed the small tremble of your back, and leaned in to kiss your mole between your shoulder blades. “These must be the tears of happiness, I assume,” he murmured against your skin, as he enjoyed the warmth of your skin against his face and wanted to stay like this for a second—human’s flesh to flesh, all alive—with his cheek pressed against your back. “To finally have someone who will love you regardless of your imperfections, when others may not be so accepting of you.”

You suddenly squirmed and tried to move forwards after hearing that. Phainon made it sound like a compliment, but in your state of mind or maybe even objectively, this compliment was nothing but backhanded. He wasn’t denying you have something to worry about—instead, he was confirming your imperfections are indeed real and to worry about, and that others might actually hate them like you do. Phainon didn’t let you move, and wrapped his arms around you, and after trying to fight him off of you for long, dreadful seconds, you finally gave up and broke down.

He held you behind you like this, letting you cry in his arms. “I know, I know,” he said softly, trying to comfort you. “You have nothing to worry about anymore, not if you have me.” He kissed your shoulder gently, he kept spilling soothing words into your ear, and you squirmed again. You wanted to scream in frustration at how much he misunderstood. You weren’t happy, you weren’t relieved, you felt as if each part of you was unpeeled from your body for him to see and made to sound as if they were actually ugly—just accepted.

It’s your body first, and so a mind exploration was just a matter of time with him.

Especially now, when even your crying sounded and looked beautiful to Phainon. He was more focused on observing you than worried about your feelings, his love for you growing, as even your vulnerability was worth of worshiping. He felt so departed from his human side, it felt comforting to see humanity through you. And even if you might feel rejected by others, wouldn’t it mean you’ll need him even more?

Right when your cries were near dying down, you thought this torture was finally over, just for Phainon to grab onto your thighs next—in your mind, so disproportionally big to the rest of your body. He was standing behind you still, talking directly into your ear. “So soft… I wish I could sleep on your thighs every night, instead of our pillows…” he mused teasingly, and his grip on your waist tightened from his excitement he felt from just talking about you for so long like a madman. “Though I assume that wouldn’t be really comfortable for you. However…” Phainon’s voice was filled with intention. You felt dread fill you—your lover clearly wasn’t done with you, when you already felt near breaking point for today. You just stopped crying!

“I think you should stay undressed like this,” he continued his speech with contented tone, making you feel scared at this point. Trashing in his grasp didn’t stop his romanticized talk, one you desperately wished to shut down as you couldn’t bear this undressed state anymore. “I wish to see you like this for a bit longer, just for the rest of the night while I hold you in your sleep. I’m sure there’s many more parts of you I didn’t get to fully explore and love.” But you didn’t feel like you’ll be able to sleep near him tonight, not when he plans to stare at you like a creep all night.

Before you could protest again, Phainon maneuvered you around, needing to kiss you with desperation after all that he has learned about his lover today.

[irisintheafterglow]

hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”

i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏

keeping it in the family

wc: 1.6k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven

note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 

“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 

“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 

“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”

“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 

“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 

“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”

“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”

“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”

“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 

“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 

“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”

“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 

“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”

“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.

“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 

“I think I’d rather die–”

“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 

“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”

“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.

"That would be so awesome."

“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”

“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 

“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”

“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”

“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”

“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”

“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”

“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”

“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”

“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.

“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”

"Dude, just ignore them."

“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

“You think I don’t get into relationships?”

“Bakugo…”

“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”

“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–

“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."

"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."

“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.

“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 

“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”

“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”

“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”

“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though. 

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache. 

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem. 

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her. 

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs. 

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.” 

Oh. She should’ve known. 

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts. 

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks. 

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain. 

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans. 

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed. 

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.” 

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?” 

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it. 

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?” 

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going. 

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling. 

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that. 

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist. 

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder. 

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips. 

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in. 

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth. 

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards. 

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him. 

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice. 

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh. 

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again. 

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says. 

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless. 

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working. 

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room. 

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine. 

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms. 

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.” 

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream. 

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week! 

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry. 

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream! 

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right? 

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss! 

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door! 

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing. 

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again? 

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out. 

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion. 

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts. 

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.” 

 He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.” 

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages. 

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.” 

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math. 

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so…  it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up. 

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. 

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.” 

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck. 

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable. 

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.” 

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!” 

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands. 

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end. 

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?” 

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought. 

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes. 

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges. 

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss. 

This was it. Her first kiss. 

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do. 

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs. 

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss. 

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive. 

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now! 

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that? 

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit. 

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable. 

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity. 

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment. 

She’ll walk home. 

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OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist

[joocomics]

something suggestive with cocky!jongseob mayhaps? 😇

will you give me just a minute to fangirl over the fact i woke up to seeing you in my inbox please 😭 omg you’re such an inspiration to me i love your writing and everything you do on your blog <3 now i’m a bit nervous but hopefully you enjoy my little thoughts on your fav boy!

tags: suggestive, established relationship, kissing, cocky!jongseob, jealous bf!jongseob

when i think about cocky!jongseob i think of his tendency to get possessive and hear me out…

when you’re out with friends especially at night clubs and parties where there will be tons of people jongseob cannot help but get excited about people seeing him with you - you’re gorgeous, hot and most importantly his. you might not realise it, but people around you always do - he’s proud to have you. his eyes sparkle with fascination as they follow you in the crowd, his hand remains on the small of your back throughout the night and when you’re telling a story to your mutual friends he’s always carefully listening to it from start to finish despite the fact he’s heard it several times already. and that’s where that slight ego boost comes from that can have him acting cocky as he shows you off without even realising, especially if he’s had a drink or two with you, hopefully i make sense right now…

his hands become bolder, his tone cheeky and playful meanwhile his eyes start to look at you with lust rather than with fascination like earlier. it’s interesting that the cockier he gets, the more he clings to you, but it’s true. his arms go around your waist from behind to pull you close against his chest and his warm lips are at your ear as he flirts with you; making comments about how that guy, the friend of your friend, was trying so hard to impress you. “baby, are you jealous right now?” you turn to face him as the presence of his hands remains on your lower waist; moving dangerously lower. “you’re mine,” is all he says, “everyone here knows it.” and even his kisses feel different in these moments - more obsessive than ever before. his lips move quicker, with hunger that leaves you breathless as the crowd keeps mingling around you. his greedy touch povokes little moans to escape your tongue and that calls for a satisfied smirk to form on his flushed face. “let’s get out of here…” you’re the first to say it, and you could care less if it makes you look desperate or needy. jongseob takes your chin with two fingers clearly liking your change of attitude. “is this party getting too boring for you?” his knee settles between your legs as you sway side to side; as if to let you know he’s aware of your desires. “or is there something else you’d rather be doing right now?” he wants to hear you say it - that you need him; that you want to leave this place to be with him, it fuels him with adrenaline. the corners of his mouth twitch mischievously; a quick small sign of the cocky mood he’s going to be in throughout the rest of the night and that’s going to elevate his dominance once it’s just the two of you alone…

[deadpool1763492]

A Very Late Road Trip AU Update

Art by @toonzxy

Hello everyone! Yes, it's been quite a while since @toonzxy, @joyfuladorable, and I have posted anything about this AU, but I promise the story is still in the works! To keep you all in the loop, we decided to make a sort of update post for the progress of the story.

Read to the end for a little teaser!

Okay, so, Book 1 is currently at 51k words. I promise I am writing it as quickly as I possibly can, but I had a pretty busy summer and am currently in my senior year of university, so it's safe to say that I don't have too much free time on my hands at the moment. I know we said we'd try to start posting it by July/August, but as of now, I don't think this book will be finished before the end of the year. Once we finish writing it, we still have to go through the entire process of editing the thing, which is a pretty daunting task. At the rate the story is going, Book 1 will probably end up being at least 100k words long.

In other news, toonzy and joyfuladorable are currently in the works of a comic! You all clearly enjoyed the comics released earlier this year, so they've decided to create a comic that will run alongside the fic but will have its own minor changes to the story. It won't be too different, but it'll be just different enough for it to stay entertaining if you want to read them both.

Most of our time has been dedicated to world building, which, admittedly, is taking a lot more time than we thought it would. It's also been a lot of rewriting previous plot points so that the continuity makes sense overall. All three of us REALLY hate plot holes, so there's been quite a bit of compromising on all fronts. All in all, it's been a lot of work for three people who not only have normal adult lives, but also have other projects on our hands that keep grabbing our attention. This has been our top priority though, I promise.

Okay, that's enough of that. You guys wanted some teasers? Here you go:

via @toonzxy

There you go. Two comic panels, the titles for the first four chapters (mostly) and a very random very mature name of a place in Idaho that one of us stumbled upon. Do with that what you will.

Alright, that's all from me! Hopefully, the next update won't be as long of a wait as this one, but I won't make any promises.

Hasta luego true believers

-DP

[twiishaa]

sanji x reader ; wc 1.4k warnings again i shat this out at 3am and there are parts i’m not too happy with but i think it’s okay as a whole <3 tiny tiny bit of angst if you squint?? fem!reader <3 here’s my masterlist!

it had only been a few weeks since you joined the straw hats’ crew. to leave your home and everything you’ve known behind to pursue a life on the sea, on the run from the world government on a whim was a big decision, but you didn’t regret it. being part of such a lively crew made it worth it, you guys were like a family already.

but they didn’t need to know you did it partly because the blond cook of theirs was kinda…

anyways. that can stay between you and me <3

it was the middle of the night, and you finally sat up after hours of not being able to sleep. maybe it was the humidity on the ship, or maybe it was the small, lingering homesick feeling you had. you drowsily made your way to the deck, the slightly salty wind waking you up a little. now that you were out of your room, it was homesickness that was keeping you awake. you hadn’t felt homesick these past weeks, why were you feeling it now? this had been everything you were dreaming of—adventure, fun, and friends you knew you’d go to the end of the grand line for, even though you’d only known them a quarter of the time they’d known each other.

oh.

was homesickness that feeling you felt sometimes, when everyone was laughing together?

you cast your mind back to the time you’d feel sad at home. your mum would be able to sense your mood from rooms away and bake you blueberry muffins. after eating them, you’d forget about your worries and give your mum a cheery smile, whether covered in blueberry juice and crumbs or not. and so, you made your way to the kitchen, hoping that baking some blueberry muffins now would cure your loneliness, despite the ungodly hour.

hopefully sanji won’t mind... 

remembering the recipe from some corner in the back of your mind was proving to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, paired with the unfamiliarity of the ship’s kitchen. to be honest, you were having fun! it was like a game, which drawer will the wooden spoon be in? not long after, the batter was complete and distributed into their muffin cases. it was a miracle you found everything; however, that didn’t mask the moderately large mess that had built up over the course of baking the muffins. fond memories of your mum walking through the door to find you covered in flour and your lips stained with blueberry juice flooded back to you; you felt at home again, even if you weren’t physically. not long after you cleaned the counter and put the muffins in the oven, the comforting smell of fresh muffins filled the kitchen, and you took a step back to admire your work. your spirits were definitely lifted. maybe blueberry muffins are the solution to most problems.

meanwhile, in sanji’s room (room??? quarter????? wherever he’s sleeping, please just roll with it), he was awakened by the light scent of… blueberry muffins? he rolled over to check the time. nobody could be possibly be baking something at such a time… maybe he was still dreaming. nonetheless, he groggily got up just to confirm his suspicion—to make sure that no one had broke onto the ship… and decided to bake blueberry muffins… or something.

as sanji approached the kitchen, he noticed the lights were on, and a figure standing right in front of the oven.

oh?

now he was concerned. the figure was… a girl?

what? this is one strange dream… he thought to himself.

when he could finally distinguish that it was, in fact, a girl, and that it was you, of all people, he was just confused. he leaned against the doorframe, observing how you were looking at the oven like you were watching over a child. from this angle, he could make out that you were making blueberry muffins.

“what do we have here, hm? why are you up so late, [name]?”

you screamed in response, then swiftly covered your mouth as you remembered the time.

sanji chuckled. “hello to you too,” his look still conveyed sheer confusion, but he was somewhat enjoying it now.

you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, both from embarrassment and that your secret crush, of sorts, was talking to you.

the fact that it was the middle of the night as you were baking muffins in his kitchen without asking him was irrelevant. sanji was talking to you!

you laughed nervously. “I just woke up in the middle of the night and I… really wanted blueberry muffins… so I decided to bake some…” he looked at you, evidently quite amused.

“sorry if I messed up your kitchen! or if you don’t like people using it or something.. I should have asked you before…” you trailed off timidly.

sanji laughed again, before moving to lean on the counter beside you. “It’s fine, honestly! besides, I didn’t know you bake, how come you’ve never said anything about it?”

lies.

usually, sanji was very particular with who touches the equipment in the kitchen, but he could let it slide for a pretty girl like you, or so he thought.

what you didn’t know is that your little crush was mutual—sanji had his eye on you,

not in a stalker-ish way, no!

—ever since he saw you when the crew stayed on your island. since then, he gradually started to become less and less flirty as he used to around nami and nico robin, even if you didn’t notice. he really only had eyes for you, following you around the ship as best as he could without looking like a weirdo. it was bad, he was down bad for you. by some power of the gods, you hadn’t noticed yet. everyone had noticed—even zoro, who took the opportunity to tease him every second he got; sanji was so down bad that he didn’t mind being teased about it. he did become aware of your lingering stares from time to time, but for the sake of his sanity, he just pretended he didn’t see anything and looked away, because if your eyes met you would see how flustered he actually was.

“oh, no, I don’t bake often! my mum taught me this recipe and I make it when I feel… lonely , or I don’t know, I think I just missed the taste of them.” you replied. sanji’s expression turned into one of worry. was there something wrong?

“no, no! it’s not you guys, I just… it’s my first time being away for so long, it’s just different to anything ive done before, and I just want comfort in something that I know… I probably make no sense right now..” you quickly added.

sanji shook his head. “no, I get it. doing something different is scary, and I think you’re really brave, [name].” he gave you a reassuring smile.

you blushed a little, but sanji caught sight of it and his eyes widened a little, before laughing. that little interaction was enough to confirm there was something between the two of you, but maybe the middle of the night wasn’t the best time to confront it…

beeeeeep!

the two of you were interrupted by the timer going off, indicating that the muffins were done. by now, the scent of blueberry muffins was overflowing in the kitchen, causing the two of you to laugh. as you went to take them out of the oven, sanji stopped you abruptly.

“let me do it; I wouldn’t want you to get burnt,” he took the gloves from you and took the muffins out, placing them on the counter.

damn. they looked better than you thought they would.

while the muffins were cooling, you and sanji continued your conversation from earlier, but now there was something in the air other than the smell of blueberry muffins. all of sanji’s responses had a warmer tone to them, maybe because he knew that you felt the same way, or maybe because he learnt something about you today that the rest of the crew didn’t know, he was someone special to you. the night passed quickly and soon you could see the sun rising, signalling that it was probably a good time to get at least some sleep before the entire crew awoke.

sanji could feel the effect of the sleep he lost that night and he was visibly tired in the morning, as were you; but he didn’t mind losing sleep over you if it meant one day he could be your boyfriend. <3

notes i love sanji so much <33 this was inspired by when i made blueberry muffins for my mom 😽 should i do a 100 followers event pls lmk and also send in any reqs you want love you !!

[violettwrites]

trust i seek, and i find in you — daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys ! sorry it’s been a little while, i’ve honestly not had much motivation but i managed to get this out for the person that requested ! i think i may have a little writers block, but i’m gonna try and rewatch twd to help me out with my inspo 🫶🏻 i apologise that it’s short, but hey, what can we do !

if you enjoy my writing, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻 requests are currently closed, but i will be opening them up soon hopefully !

summary: daryl thinks he isn’t good enough for you because he’s too “old”

requested: @/nuhogom requested; could you do an age gap fic with daryl? reader is well into her/their 20’s though!! i’d love a secret relationship too! maybe if it’s set in twd, it’s because daryl is still kinda insecure etc.

warnings: none ! a bit of angst maybe???

word count: 879

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ rules

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box

it was late at hilltop, and the faint hum of crickets mixed with the occasional groan of a walker beyond the walls. inside, everything felt peaceful. you sat in your little trailer, curled beneath a blanket, waiting for daryl. he didn’t stop by every night, much to your dismay, but you could always sense when he would. there was something between you—something electric, fragile, and unspoken, like a current neither of you dared disturb.

a soft knock echoed through the quiet, followed by the slow creak of the door opening. there he was, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes a mix of stoic and softened by the dim light of your trailer. his gaze found yours immediately, warm and inviting.

“thought you weren’t comin’,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you watched him, your eyes tracing every one of his movements.

“had to finish a run for tara,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. he didn’t need to explain further—his presence was enough. it always had been. words had never been necessary between the two of you.

you’d been seeing each other for months now, in secret. daryl, being in his forties, knew that people would talk if they found out. they’d whisper, judge, say you were too young for him, too bright for someone as worn as him. he hated the idea of being the one to pull you into those whispers, to tarnish you with their judgments. but at the same time, he couldn’t stay away.

you didn’t care about any of that, though. not in a world like this. what did other people’s opinions matter when survival was all that was left?

“no one’s gonna know,” you whispered, sitting up a bit and placing a hand on his arm. “it’s just us here.”

he hesitated, glancing away for a moment before his eyes settled back on you. “it ain’t right. yer young. people’ll talk, make it worse.”

you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his need to protect you warred with his desire to be close. but you weren’t a kid anymore. you were capable of making your own decisions, and you had chosen him.

“i don’t care what they think,” you said softly but firmly. “none of that matters. i care about you—that’s all i need.”

daryl sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he shook his head, but his hand found yours. his fingers, rough and calloused from years of surviving, wrapped gently around yours. he pulled you closer, tucking you under his arm as you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. his other arm came around you, solid and protective, as though he were the only thing standing between you and the chaos of the world outside.

“don’t know why you want someone like me,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.

you tilted your head to look up at him, his expression clouded with doubt. “i want someone like you because you’re kind, and you care more than you let on. you see me for who i am, not for who people think i should be.”

his brow furrowed slightly, the weight of your words sinking in. it wasn’t often that anyone took the time to look past the walls he kept up, and fewer still bothered to try.

you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “stop worrying about them. it’s just us.”

daryl didn’t reply, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. your head rested against his chest, and you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a sound that brought you more comfort than you ever thought possible.

his fingers slowly combed through your hair as the silence stretched between you, easy and familiar. your eyes drifted closed, feeling the tension seep out of him as his body relaxed against yours. this was a side of him no one else saw—vulnerable, unguarded, and you cherished it, every rare moment of it.

time seemed to blur, the rest of the world fading away as you sat there together. daryl’s hand never stopped moving through your hair, his touch so tender it was hard to believe it came from someone so hardened by life.

“i ain’t good at this,” he mumbled after a while, his voice low and almost apologetic. “don’ know how to do relationships—how to… be what you need.”

you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “you’re already everything i need, daryl.”

his eyes softened at your words, the usual tension in his features melting away. he leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips. it wasn’t rushed, as though he wanted to savor every second, commit it all to memory.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, breathing him in. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “not unless you want me to.”

he shook his head, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “ain’t ever gonna want that.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, nestling back into his chest, his arms keeping you close, holding onto you like you were his anchor in the storm.

and for now, that was all that mattered.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 7

(This is the second part posted on the same day! Make sure you didn’t miss 6!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

M!troll x f!reader

1.2k words (tw for mention/suggestion of assault)

Zen’jan’s secret left you reeling and without a plan you left the city, but is the wilds really any better?

————

All the air left your lungs at his words, you want to scream but could not even manage that.

“It is alright” Zen’jan said trying to reassure you while getting up and taking a step towards you, finger still bleeding and dagger still in hand, “You are safe here, I promise! Please just sit and listen to me” he took another step towards you and reached for your hand.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed at him, finally finding your voice. The clawing panic was rising in your throat, threatening to strangle you into silence again.

You looked at the man in front of you, the man who had been taking care of you and watching over you, it was like he was a complete stranger all over again. A follower of the Shadows, and avatar of the God of Shadows!

He looked visibly hurt and took a step back, “I am so sorry, I know I should not have sprang this on you, but please just listen to me, to Tsov’ka” slowly he reached his hand back out to you.

“No! Leave me alone!” you scrambled away from the shrine, away from Zen’jan. You did not know where you were going, but you had to get away. The brighter lights of the other shrine rooms and then the daylight blinded you, but once more being in the light comforted you and shook the deep chill out of your bones.

You kept moving, putting as much distance between yourself and the shrines, and hopefully Zen’jan. Nowhere felt safe, not home, not anywhere in the city, no one to talk to.

Out of the city it was then. You passed under the main gates that lead out of the ravine and into the surrounding grasslands. A few times you came out here with Bira, you knew it was pretty safe, especially if you followed along the small mountain ranged that housed the city.

For hours you walked, at first occasionally seeing people or passing by farms until they got fewer and fewer until you truly were alone. You did not have a plan, all you knew was that going back to the city was not an option.

You walked until your legs nearly gave out, collapsing into a sobbing mess, leaning against one of the very few trees in the grasslands for a needed bit of shade. It was a bit before midday when you had left, now the sun had moved fairly far along its path and would start in set in the next hour or so.

You curled up, maybe a nap would help you clear you mind a little.

“What’s a human doing way out here?” came a man’s voice that jolted you awake.

“Isn’t she the Lord Admiral’s daughter? The one that got married off?” came a second voice.

“Lucky day if she is” said the first one again.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to check your surroundings. Several human men stood around you, still not aware you had woken up.

“Whatcha figure she’s doing out here?” asked another.

“Who knows, who cares. You know the reward on her if anyone gets her back to her father? Set for life” answered the first.

Your father? None of it particularly made sense, you were tired and dehydrated, but at least this could be your way out.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? Shame she’s been ruined by a fucking monster” another chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, I’d still fuck her” the second piped up.

“Isn’t the reward for either bringing her back or for making it look like the monsters killed her?” came one of the previous voices.

“It is, it’s anything they can use to righteously start this war again. Get her home and let her father spin some horrible tales, or just kill her now and make it look like the monsters turned on her” answered the first again.

The War. It had only ended a few months ago. The death toll on both sides had been horrific, though most of the fighting all happened on the seas and grasslands surrounding the city here, and you had seen just how bad it was.

“Seems like a lot of effort to bring her back, another mouth to feed and supplies are already low. I say have a little fun with her and the just kill her” one suggested.

Your heart was racing, suddenly things were going sideways very fast. There looked to be six or so of them and only one of you, not good odds. You weighed the chances of bolting, though you were not sure if you could get away fast enough.

“Fine, it’s all the same in the end. Grab her and bring her back to camp at least though”.

You decided to take your chances, it looked like either die for sure soon or at least try to live. With whatever strength you could muster you leapt up and booked it, only making it a few steps before you were grabbed by your wrist.

“Now where do you think you’re going, little thing? And how much did you hear?” asked the first. He was an imposing man, the quintessential bandit looking type, as were the others.

You screamed, loud as you could until he placed a hand over your mouth.

“Screaming isn’t going to do anything, you’re miles and miles from anyone else, and you’re going to give me a headache with all that. Someone, knock her out”.

Before you could register anything else you were hit with a blinding pain on the back of your head, then blackness.

You awoke with a splitting headache and to the muffled sounds of voices.

“…in a bit, where’s she going anyways? Her hands are tied” one said.

It was dark, you had been tossed in a tent with your hands tied and left alone for now. Tears streamed down your face. You ran from the shadows, you heeded the teachings of the Light, why didn't the Light protect you?

It was getting cold with the sun down now, you could see the shadows cast by the fire poking under the tent, but its warmth could not reach you.

“It’s fucking cold, isn’t it?” one of the men asked.

“Toss some more wood on the fire then” another replied.

“And it’s fucking dark” the first speaker said.

“It’s nighttime, of course it’s dark you f-” he was cut off.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, then the world was plunged into inky black darkness.

Screaming and snarling pierced through the stillness. Bloodcurdling screams of dying men and the snarls of something else. You held you breath and squeezed your eyes shut while you tried to block out the sounds of death. Fear gripped you and you just hoped whatever was out there would miss you.

Moments dragged to minutes, to what felt like an eternity until nothing but silence remained and the glow of the fire returned. Cautiously you peered under the edge of the tent, nearly retching at the sight. Blood soaked the ground in shiny puddles, men lay in shreds, mauled to the point of being unrecognizable amongst the viscera.

“I am so sorry” came a familiar voice at the door of the tent.

You looked up to see a figured cloaked in shadows, but it was a familiar one.

“Zen?”

And once more the world was black.

Part 8