#i can bench now 85!

[hxlcyon]

i can benchpress more than half my body weight now!

[wonderjanga]

I Didn’t Ask for This

Freddy decided to prank Billy. It was nothing special really. He just decided to enter a bunch of photos of Billy, in his Marvel form, of course, into the Sexiest Heroes Alive submissions. It’s basically a magazine company that accepts photos of heroes and eventually decides who’s the most handsome. Initially, Freddy hadn’t known how popular this magazine was. After all, he’s from the 50’s and apparently, this thing started in 85’. So he just submitted it like nothing, only after sneakily taking photos of Marvel. Of course, with the help of an actual woman who could probably know more about this. The actual woman was Ms. Bambi.

Freddy: *hiding in some bushes trying to take photos of Marvel helping a cat out of a tree*

Ms. Bambi: *standing next to the bush because she doesn’t feel like crouching down next to him* “What are we doing again?”

Freddy: “I’m taking photos of Captain Marvel so I can enter them into a competition.”

Ms. Bambi: “What types of photos? Photos of him saving people?”

Freddy: “No. Photos of him being…” *looks absolutely disturbed he’s about to let this word leave his life* “…Sexy.” *fake gags*

Ms. Bambi: *raises a brow* “Oh. And you think that’s going to pass?” *takes the camera*

They took many many photos and at the end they compared them all.

Ms. Bambi: *looking at the photos that they placed on a park bench* “How many can we send in at a time?”

Freddy: “I don’t know? As many as we want? Also, we? Are you committed to this too now?”

Ms. Bambi: “Yes.” *nods head* “How about we send in these four?” *points to four of the photos*

Freddy: “Sure?” *shrugs*

The two sent in the photos and promptly forgot about them for about three months. Meanwhile, Billy was still unaware of everything that happened. That is, until the day came that someone showed him the magazine.

Marvel: *minding his business and chilling*

Flash: *snickering as he walks over to him, holding a magazine* “Cap, you never seemed like the type. I’ll give you that.”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Flash: “I mean you never seemed like the type to enter yourself into Sexiest Heroes Alive.” *shows him the magazine*

Marvel: *takes the magazine and slowly starts looking horrified as he reads (think just like this)* “What the fuck?” *also sounds horrified as he flips through some of the pages of the magazine*

Flash: *surprised cause he’s never heard Marvel actually curse* “What?”

Marvel: “How did they get these? Most people in Fawcett avoid modern technology.”

Flash: “Are you saying someone took these without you knowing?”

Marvel: “Yes!”

Flash: “Do you know who could’ve done this?” *now sounds a little concerned for his friend*

Marvel: “No? I have no clue who it could be either besides maybe a villain but even then. The only person in Fawcett whose experienced tech outside of Fawcett, and would do something like this would be…”*anger slowly crosses his face until he looks completely infuriated* “Junior.” *stomps off to go find Freddy*

Flash: *genuinely concerned for Freddy because he’s never seen Marvel that mad in his life*

Don’t worry. Billy wasn’t that mad. He just yelled at Freddy for a bit before they both got ice cream and promptly forgot about it.

[lovebugism]

u said 2 do ur worst for shy!r so…. steve and reader go to the hawkins snowball dance and a slow song comes on and its a uber romantic song (i’m talking taylor swift type romance) and steve ofc asks r to dance… she’s super shy so she keeps looking at the floor but then steve does the thing where you lift the other persons chin up so they’re looking into ur eyes… if u wanna elaborate on this :)

i changed this up a wee bit, but i hope u like it! — when steve is finally crowned prom king, all he can think about is getting a dance with his (sorta) secret girlfriend (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.2k)

Steve abandons his crown and scepter somewhere between the bleachers and the snack table. The thought of finding you is far more important than the chunks of plastic they give him. 

The cold breeze of the early evening cools his warm cheeks, flushed red from the adrenaline and the alcohol. He finds you sitting on the wooden bench outside the gymnasium, pretty and all alone. The skirt of your fairy-tale dress billows around your calves. Elbows digging into your thighs, you prop your chin on your fists and pout softly beneath the pale moonlight. 

You’re the prettiest thing Steve’s ever seen. The saddest, too, maybe.

“Been looking for you,” he says to announce his presence. The lopsided smile on his face is audible. You know it’s dancing on his pink mouth before you ever turn around to face him. 

He’s a pretty thing in a sleek tux. Boyishly handsome. Sort of like he’s playing dress-up. The thought almost makes you smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize in a mousy voice, blinking up at him with sparkly, made-up eyes when he looms over you. “It got… really loud in there…”

“Well, Tommy spiked the punch, so… It was kinda inevitable,” Steve jokes with a lazy shrug, even though he isn’t really joking. 

He watched the idiot steal his dad’s best liquor from the high-up cabinet two hours ago. The Hawkins High class of ’85 got drunk on it in record time. The school pulses with life accordingly. The brick behind you threatens to shake with it.

Your nose scrunches. “Is that why it tasted like gasoline?”

“Probably,” Steve grins.

He huffs and sits at the spare spot next to you. The old bench creaks in protest. He takes his first good breath all night when he’s finally alone with you. The fresh air and your perfume fill his lungs, smoother than silk. There’s a subtle euphoria and a distant nostalgia between it all. 

He’s spent years chasing this feeling. He thought maybe being crowned prom king would solve all his problems. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. ‘Cause you did.

“You coming back inside?”

Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you ponder the question. “I don’t know… Probably not.”

Steve’s freshly shaven face swirls with visible confusion. He loves a party — especially when he’s the life of it — so it’s hard for him to comprehend how other people don’t. Even though he knows, more than anyone else, that you’re made of something much more delicate than that.

“Why not?”

“Prom’s not really my scene, Steve,” you answer with a scoffed-out laugh.

He flashes you a crooked smile in return, painted silver in the moonlight. His cologne swaddles you in its musk when he leans over to nudge your shoulder. “You promised me a dance, remember?”

Your soft features harden into a frown. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, c’mon! You know you wanna dance with me,” he protests through a poorly bitten-back laugh.

“Why?” you press, meeting his beam with a lighthearted scowl. “So all your friends can laugh at me?”

“Screw ‘em! They’re assholes— who cares?”

“I care. ‘Cause you’re not the one they’re laughing at, King Steve.”

You spit the stupid nickname with playful venom in your tone, but Steve can’t help but smile at it, anyway. He’s a week away from graduating, halfway employed, and Hawkins High’s reigning prom king. It’s all slightly maddening — especially now that he’s got you.

He wonders if you applauded when he won that stupid crown. If you laughed at him about it, or if you were strangely proud. He’ll ask you about it later. After he gets that dance.

“Let ‘em laugh,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, averting your gaze with a sad smile. You wish it were that easy. 

“You don’t know what it’s like,” you tell him as the heavy bass inside the school starts to slow. Through the high-up frosted windows, you hear Girls on Film fade into Never Tear Us Apart. 

“Sorry for wanting to dance with my girlfriend,” he teases to ease the tension. It comes out more serious than he intended, though, ‘cause he is sort of sorry. Nothing about your two worlds exactly meshes — yet here he is, still hopelessly trying to tangle them together.

You know this, so you sigh. “Sorry for not being prom queen,” you joke back, only partly serious. You blink at him with a pair of twinkling eyes — slightly smudged with mascara. The sparkles of your eyeshadow glint when they catch the moonlight. 

“Don’t want you to be prom queen,” Steve confesses softly, smiling at you somehow softer. “I like you the way you are right now.”

You get a warm, tingly feeling in your stomach. It wells up your chest and into your throat until you feel like you might cry. 

You roll your eyes at him when they start to burn, laughing softly to distract from the overwhelming feeling. Your gaze flits to the velvet night sky, speckled with twinkling stars, until you get the courage to look back at the boy beside you. His face glitters with something hopeful. 

You swallow hard and ask, “You still want that dance or what?”

Steve glows with a boyish excitement. “Yeah! Are you kidding? Of course, I do.”

“Out here, though,” you tell him when he rises from the bench.

He smiles at the stern look in your delicate eyes. “Why? You ashamed of me or somthin’?” he jokes, as if he wasn’t named just prom king.

You stand before him with your arms crossed over the pretty corset of your dress. You bite back a smile. “I just wanna spend time with my boyfriend without it being on the cover of The Weekly Streak tomorrow,” you confess.

“Fair enough,” Steve nods, smoothing his wide hands over your sides. 

Yours are much less confident. They tremble with a misplaced worry as they spread over his shoulders. Your fingers fidget on the satin lapels of his expensive suit. His longer ones guide you back and forth, swaying you gently to the slow beat of the muffled song.

—Don’t ask me, what you know is true…

Don’t have to tell you, I love your precious heart—

You get lost in it all before you mean to. The warmth of having him so close, swaddled in his big hands and deep cologne. 

His honeyed gaze hasn’t yet wavered from you, but you don’t have the heart to meet it. He’s looking at you like he loves you. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re the fucking prom queen. 

You don’t feel particularly deserving of any of it.

“Are you still having fun?” you ask with a scrunched nose, visibly riddled with feelings of inadequacy. You still haven’t quite figured out why he’d rather be out here with you than inside with everyone else — with Vicki Carmichael, the actual prom queen.

“Loads,” Steve answers without missing a beat. His hands squeeze reassuringly at your hips as he flashes you a crooked grin. “It’s not even a question, honestly. I’d choose you over those schmucks in there any day of the week.”

He nods his slicked-back hair to the pulsing brick a few feet away. A few gelled chestnut strands drape over his forehead. You fight the urge to push them back.

“Really?” you squeak with your pretty face, all dolled up, twisted with an innocent look of confusion.

You have no idea how beautiful you are, Steve thinks to himself.

“Yeah,” he nods, grinning wide and wearing all his adoration on his chiseled, golden face. He could hide it if he tried. “Tommy Hagan isn’t nearly as pretty to look at.”

[seoktized]

please please PLEASEEEEEE 55 79 85 with matthew uhhhhhh maybe 6 36 71 in there too they're optional but the first three REALLY get me going aausuusydghsdjdjksk (you don't understand what my brain did when i got ur post notif ohmygof)

“where do you want me to touch you?” - “down there…” - “you have to say the word” / “use my thigh” / "you can take it like a good girl, right?" / “you’re fucking soaked” / “that looks too big”

“where do you want me to touch you, baby?” matthew purred. he looked irresistible right now, his muscles swollen from his previous workout, sweat dripping down his neck.

matthew waited for your response while eye fucking you— who was wearing a pretty sports bra that made your tits pop.

“down there, matt…” you mumbled, a bit embarrassed to tell him.

he shook his head, a smirk on his face, “you have to say the word.” your eyes widened, silently begging matthew to take a hint and help you out, but he didn’t budge.

“want you to touch my pussy.” you turned your head to the side, avoiding eye contact. matthews hands that were on your thighs squeezed them softly before trailing up to your clothed cunt, rubbing a thumb over it.

“please don’t tease, matt!” you whined, grabbing his hand and hooking it on the waistband of your shorts. he chuckled before pushing you off his lap to rid you of your shorts, revealing your soaked panties.

“you’re fucking soaked, doll.” he pulled you back onto his lap, this time sitting you on one of his thighs. “bet it hurts doesn’t it baby? i’ll give you what you want if you use my thigh first.” he said, slowly pulling your hips to drag your cunt across his thigh.

you whined before rocking your hips, your pussy drenching his thigh with your slick. matthew watched your face contort in pleasure as you got off on his thigh. his lips found your neck, kissing the skin gently.

you cried out, the pleasure making your brain hazy and matthew was in awe. he flexed his thigh slightly, causing you to double over onto his shoulder, gripping tightly.

“mmph— please matt..” you moaned, feeling your thighs start to burn. matthew noticed your pace start to slow and the hands on your hips helped you grind again this thigh.

a few more drags across his thigh triggered your orgasm, moaning into his chest. “that’s it baby.. so good for me.” he let you ride out your orgasm, his hands massaging your hips.

when you managed to catch your breath, you lifted your head from his chest, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

“you got one more in you, pretty girl?” he asked, hand coming up to caress your jaw. he smiled when you nodded before helping you up off the gym bench to get his shorts and boxers off.

you watched as his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach. “that looks too big..” you said, thinking out loud. matthew’s eyebrow quirked,

“you can take it like a good girl, right?” his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking gently.

matthew took your hand, pulling you to lay down on the bench. he lined his cock with your entrance, before slowly thrusting into your awaiting cunt. the stretch made your eyes roll back, both you and matthew moaning loudly.

“so fuckin’ tight—fuck—!” he groaned. you tapped his shoulder, giving him the green light.

“right there, matt!” you screamed, nails raking down his back. matthew’s lips met yours in a messy kiss as you felt your second orgasm nearing.

matthew pulled out before thrusting back in, his hips snapping against yours quickly. you cried out, his cock hitting your spot with every thrust.

“matt, ‘m close!” you cried, matthew’s hand went down to your clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.

“go ahead, baby, cum on my cock.” he encouraged. he watched as your eyes rolled back, your back arching against his chest. matthew groaned as he came, his cum spurting deep into your pussy <3

[multi-level-shipper]

This shit was a fucking acid trip, like most of the game.

Anyway, something that poked my brain was the Infirmary. For all this game's insanity, there were actually some decent roots planted for worldbuilding/ character development.

It seems like the reason the cast ended up in Queen Bouncelia's domain is because they're treating the player as if they have 6 stars in GTA. Seline is no exception to this rule, and that seems to be her motivation for coming down to the lower floor, as she watched us leave in Chapter 3.

Toadster noted in his "Archives" that she was already hiding when brought in, and crying in her shell. She may have been antagonized by a bigger enemy- likely Kittysaurus or Tama/Chamataki (turtle chameleon thing), and she may have gone past the kingdom's walls for sanctuary. (That's just a loose theory, though.)

In any case, at some point she was frightened enough to shut down completely.

This could be some kind of anxiety attack, though there's no way to "diagnose" Seline at this point. Also interesting that Seline felt too afraid to even continue moving around on the lower floors. I think this is meant to speak to just how dangerous the lower floors are- if the giant ass snail is afraid, you should be, too.

Next, Jumbo Josh. Toadster categorizes him as a "Green Gorilla", which in hindsight, weirdly makes a lot of sense.

Firstly, an adult silverback gorilla can bench up to 4,000 lbs (or at least, that's what google told me.) Not that we needed an explanation of why he was able to throw Stinger Flynn, but I can only assume that if we adjusted that number for his size...it probably checks out.

Second, the fact that he walks like a chiropractor's worst nightmare. It took me a second, but I FINALLY realized that his posture is meant to IMITATE A GORILLA. Like, look at this:

DEFINITELY EXPLAINS WHY HE WALKS LIKE A HORSE IN GARRY'S MOD.

And thirdly, Josh's love for vegetables is also a gorilla trait. 85% of a gorilla's diet is leafy greens, with the remaining percentage basically amounting to termites and larvae.

Not too much to say about the Fucked Up Birds, but still! Nice to see them finally displaying a flamingo behavior (AKA their sleeping posture) because they seemed to lean more heavily on ostrich behaviors in previous chapters.

Toadster mentions in his archive for "The Teacher" that she keeps repeating the phrase "I can't be late" over and over to herself after being subdued.

He also notes that the bowling pins "calmed her down," which may not entirely be the case. In Chapter 3, in Banbaleena's "Classroom", each object had an assigned role like Cool Kid and Popular Kid. The bowling pins were meant to be the Bullies.

So Banbaleena is likely stuck in a prison of her own self-doubts right about now, which is doubly sad when considering her insistence in Chapter 3 that she was actually trying to be a good teacher. Either someone placed this idea in her head that she needs to strictly adhere to all these rules, or it's a stress she placed upon herself trying to fulfill her identity as a teacher.

Stinger Flynn gets better as the story progresses. He seems to have an ego to the point where he sees himself as a savior that can't see the faults in his own plans. His initial "safest procedures" plan seemed so obvious to him, but it seems as if he measures success by efficiency rather than the cost of human lives. While he's smart, he's not immune to being wrong, though he has yet to learn this.

He also seems to suffer from some form of depression, or at least intense sadness, and we see this as he talks to Banban in the latest hallucination sequence. Makes sense- his intelligence would make him much more privy to all the horrible things happening around him. It seems as if his high intelligence comes at a high price.

Last note- This might just be a case of recycling animations/rigs, but I think it's cute that Banban shares nearly the same emo pose as Banbaleena.

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 6

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Can I have a cookie?"

"Julia, those are for the half-time."

"But I'm hungry now... And look, they are coming!" she said, pointing at the pitch. "Where is Rúben?"

"Wait until they get a bit closer.”

"Oh, I see him! Rúben!" she screamed, waving both her hands while jumping. We were sitting in the same place I was at the Emirates, close to the tunnel and the bench, and it was impossible for most players to not see the crazy kid screaming and waving. One of Rúben's teammates noticed her, turning to tell him something while nodding towards where she was. When he looked up and saw Julia, he waved back, a big smile on his face. And when he saw me... When he same me he winked. He winked at me. What?

"He saw us!" Julia said, jumping in front of me and not letting me see if he did anything else. Though it probably was for the best, because I'm sure I was looking at him with my mouth wide open.

"He saw us, yes" I replied, trying to look like a normal person again.

"Do you think he will score a goal?"

"Scoring isn't his job, he is a defender."

"I think he will score" Julia said, sitting down while humming something. 

The first half was a bit boring, but Julia's constant comments and questions kept me entertained. Me, and the people around us. 

The second half was more of the same until minute 85. City had a corner, there was a bit of chaos on the area, and goal. 

"Oh my god, Julia!" I said, getting up. "Rúben scored!"

"He did!" the man sitting next to us said, picking up Julia so she was able to see what was going on on the pitch.

"I knew it!" she said, clapping like crazy.

As City players moved to their side of the pitch, Rúben came closer to where we were, Guardiola giving him orders while he just smiled at us. And as he was leaving...

"Look, he sent us a kiss!" Julia laughed. 

"Lucky you" the man said as he put her down, his eyes fixed on me. Great. Now this man believed Rúben was sending me a kiss. But was he? Nah. It was for Julia.

After the game we waited for him to drive us home. He had texted me the day before offering to do it and I hadn't been able to say no. He had even come over to pick Julia's car seat. 

"Rúben!" she screamed when she saw him, jumping into his arms. "I knew you would score today!"

"You were my lucky charm" he said picking her up and throwing her in the air, making her giggle.

"I wouldn't shake her too much if I were you. She ate a lot during half-time."

"But I'm still hungry" she said once she was on Rúben's arms again. Lucky her. 

"Where do you want to go for dinner to celebrate?" he asked.

"McDonald's!"

"Julia, I don't think he is allowed to eat there."

"Why not?" she asked with a confused look.

"It's just one day, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

"I am. You can put that eyebrow down" he replied with a teasing smile. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I told you she would be dead by the moment we got home" Rúben said after we put Julia to bed. She had fallen asleep in his car and he had to carry her in his arms, all while I tried to make sure she didn’t drool all over his jacket. I didn’t blame her, tho.

"She now wants to play football too."

"City has a girls’ team."

"And so does United."

"Again, that eyebrow..." he said, pointing at my face.

"It just happens, I have no control over it.” Which was the truth. And today it was even more free than usual for some reason. "Anyway, you probably want to go home and rest."

"I was actually hoping we could spend some time alone and chat… Get to know each other a bit more. You know a lot about me and I barely know anything about you.”

“I just know about your career.”

“That already is a lot more than what I know about you.”

"But are you sure you don't prefer going home and rest?" I asked.

"It takes me hours to fall sleep after a game. I'll be fine."

"Ok then... Beer? Or is that too much sinning today?" I knew I was lifting my eyebrow again. His smile was saying it all. What was happening to me?

"I can sin a bit more if you are the one asking."

And I giggled. That was my answer. A stupid giggle before I hid myself behind the fridge's door, all the confidence I had found throughout the day, gone.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Can you sin a third time?" I said, showing him my empty bottle. "I'm asking very nicely." And I was a bit tipsy, that too. I usually only drink one, but we started talking, having a good time, and…

"Just because it's you."

"To your goal" I said when I made it back with our beers.

"To my goal. Again" he said, taking the bottle and drinking. He had said he didn’t drink either, but he looked more sober than me. Though I guess that with his size, he needed more alcohol to start feeling something. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asked after a few minutes in silence.

"You don't want to know" I said, taking another sip. 

"Were you thinking about me?"

"I was. But it wasn't anything like that.”

"Like what?"

"Naughty."

"Naughty" he snorts. 

"What?"

"Naughty" he repeated, trying to sound as British as he could and laughing again. Maybe he was a bit tipsy after all. 

"It is just a word" I said, also laughing.

"One that you use with kids, not adults."

"I work with a kid, I must be careful with my language."

"But I am not a kid."

"Are you not?" I said, this time being fully aware of my eyebrow lifting.

"Do you want me to show you?" Rúben said, suddenly getting too serious, slowly leaning towards me. 

"I..." But before I could add anything else, we heard a scream.

"Julia" we said at the same time, running towards her room. 

"What is it? What happened?" 

"Tuve... una... pesadilla” she said between sobs when I sat next to her on the bed. She had had a nightmare.

"Do you want some water?"

"Sí."

"I'll go get it" Rúben said from the door.

"Do you want to tell me about the nightmare?" I asked her while we waited. She just said no with her head, hugging me tighter.

"Feeling better?" Rúben asked her after she drank some water.

"Yes." If her English was back, that definitely meant she was feeling better. "But can you stay with me? I don't want to sleep alone. Rúben can stay too."

"I don't think the three of us can fit on your bed, Julia" he chuckled.

"But if we squeeze a little bit..."

"Rúben has to rest after today's game and he can't do it in such a small bed."

"Yeah... He needs a big bed like yours."

"For example." I didn't look at him, but I was certain he was smirking when he said that. 

"Can I get a good night kiss before you leave?" Julia asked him.

"Anything for you, Queen Elsa" he smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Thank you for today" I said as I walked Rúben to the door, Julia waiting for me in her room.

"Did you have fun?"

"I did, yes."

"So did I” he replied.

And then, the awkward silence came. 

"I better go, Julia is waiting for me.”

“Yes, of course. Good night, princess Anna" he said, leaning forward and kissing my cheek.

"Good night” I muttered, feeling my face burning where his lips had been.

[inkheartedwanderer]

a tally on the left || s.h.

in which the most embarrassing moment of steve’s life leads him to you.

steve x fem!reader. 

content: tacky leotards, steve in a crop-top, a fitness class. summer of ‘85, instant crush, girly reader (kinda). not very good i’m sorry :( more steve-centric than reader-centric

word count: 4.2k

Steve Harrington never thought the most humiliating moment of his life would come at the hands of two fifteen-year-old girls. Pleading doe eyes, empty promises of never ever bothering him ever again and his own goodwill to blame, he agreed with barely a qualm, just a deep sigh followed by El’s skinny arms around his torso and a less vehement than usual pat on the back from Max.

If he had known what he was really getting into, he wouldn’t have acceded so fast.

It’s times like this, when he’s standing in the middle of the Starcourt Mall parking lot in very short shorts and a fucking crop top -courtesy of a very amused Dustin, and that he’s wearing god knows why-, that he deeply regrets having a soft spot for the kids.

Leaning against his car, hands on his hips and duffle gym bag on the concrete by his feet, Steve waits for El and Max to get out of the vehicle with their backpacks. He’s not exactly sure why Max wants to do this in the first place, it seems precisely like the type of activity she would hate, from the outfits down to the music; but El is very excited, has been since they asked the boy to tag along a few days ago, and has apparently talked Hopper’s ear off about it to a point of near madness.

“Okay,” Steve claps his hands and motions for the girls to get closer, “here’s the plan. We walk in fast, get over with this batshit insane idea of yours, and dip. Clear?”

While El is agreeable and nods, Max rolls her eyes, a smug smile gracing her lips.  Steve raises a questioning eyebrow and she snorts, “I can’t take you seriously while you’re wearing that.” Her eyes travel up and down his body, settling on the dark hair that covers his abdomen. 

It’s remarkably awkward to be ogled by a child. “It was the only clean t-shirt I had left.” Steve tugs at the end of his top, a muted blue monstrosity that he will burn as soon as he gets home, and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, eyes closed, willing himself to breathe deep and be a supportive friend. Babysitter. Whatever. “Let’s just do this, okay?” 

El squeals with joy and laces her arm through Max’s, the girls leading the way towards the mall in their bright, colourful attires and matching leg warmers. They whisper with each other, heads close, their giggles reaching Steve, who’s a few feet behind thanking whoever was in charge of this whole mess for scheduling it so early that the parking lot is virtually empty.

We need an adult, they’d said, no one else is free. He can pinpoint now, as he replays the conversation in his head, all the times he could’ve said no. But he didn’t, because he’s an idiot (a good friend if he says so himself, but an idiot nonetheless); and now he’s crossing the upper level of Starcourt in the dead of summer, peak season in full swing, about to spend his morning doing aerobics.

The name of the small studio glows in pink neon letters, mocking Steve with the promise of cheesy music and cheesier moves. It’s a modest rectangular space that someone painted in bright coloured stripes, painful to the eyes, with wooden panel flooring and a large window wall facing -much to Steve’s dismay- the inside of the mall. 

A small crowd of mostly middle-aged women is gathered on the left side of the room, all sporting leotards with tacky prints and tights. The only other man in the room is sitting down on a small bench, fastening his shoelaces. He’s very fit, all defined muscles and shiny hair, and seems delighted to be there. 

Max pulls El to the far end of the studio, the designated space for everybody’s bags, and both girls giggle as they stare unabashedly at the others. Steve drops his stuff in the corner and stands next to them, grimacing. “Will you tell me why you really wanted to come here?” He’s beginning to question the girls’ motivations for this early-morning adventure.

El looks at Steve with a mischievous smile and whispers “The inst-” Her face drops and she looks at Max, frustration crossing her eyes, then sighs. “Uhm, the teacher is cute.”

“Instructor.” Max offers her friend, then turns to Steve. “He’s like, the hottest guy ever.”

Steve huffs, ignoring the not-so-hidden dig at him in her words, and crosses his arms. “What about your little boyfriends?” 

“Mike is visiting his nana.” El’s hand fiddles with the yellow scrunchie holding her short hair up. She suddenly looks a little bit sad, her brown eyes clouding, eyebrows pinched together in the middle.

“I dumped Lucas last week.” The redhead shrugs nonchalantly at Steve’s bewildered look. “He forgot our seven-month anniversary. He’ll apologise soon. Meanwhile, we will enjoy the view.” She points towards the door, and Steve turns around.

The teacher can’t be much older than he is. He walks across the room with a powerful stride and too bright of a smile for this time of the morning, greeting the older, most likely regular attendees. His eyes land on the girls as he puts his stuff aside and takes his jacket off.

“Hey, you two,” he’s still beaming, a cheery tilt in his voice that makes Steve cringe, “aren’t you too young to be here?”

“We’re with him.” Max points at Steve, who gives the teacher a tight-lipped smile and a wave of acknowledgement, feeling entirely out of place.

That seemed to be enough for the guy, whose smile grew, showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “Well, alright. Some of the moves may be too intense, so just go at your own pace, alright?”

He claps twice, loudly, and motions for everyone to get into place. Like a well-oiled machine, every person knows their spot. Steve follows the girls to the back of the room, feeling all too exposed, and uncharacteristically nervous. 

At the press of a button, loud, synth-heavy music starts playing from a brand-new shiny set of speakers. It’s exactly the kind of songs Steve was expecting, the ones he loves to scream in the car when no one’s watching, but not the kind he wants to jump and dance to, surrounded by complete strangers and two teenagers who will never let him live it down.

Maybe, he thinks, he can make a run for it and hide somewhere until the class is over. The backroom of Scoops Ahoy, he thinks, is perfect. If only his new co-worker and personal nightmare Robin Buckley weren’t working the morning shift today… she would pay good money, Steve’s sure, to see him right now. Possibly take a picture and send it to the local newspaper. They’ve only been working together for a little over two weeks and she’s made it her mission to keep track (literally, on her whiteboard, the words you lose earning tally after tally) of every single embarrassing moment of his life. She would have a field day with this.

Now, Steve’s always been athletic. He was a great swimmer, regularly winning races and regional championships as a preteen. Then, in high school, he moved on to basketball, and he was the star player until he graduated. He’s fought monsters with nothing but a bat and adrenaline and made it out alive. 

This should be easy, right? Just moving around a little bit. That’s what he thought.

Fifteen minutes later, beads of sweat cover his forehead, light brown strands of hair falling over his eyes. Patches of perspiration stain his shirt, the cotton fabric hot against his clammy skin. To his right, El and Max are definitely going at their own pace, making up their own moves and laughing at each other.

Steve deeply regrets every single decision that’s brought him to this moment.

He doesn’t notice you, at first, too busy trying to follow the steps and not make a fool out of himself. It’s only when the instructor tells the class to grab a mat from the pile at the back of the room and sit down for the flexibility exercises that he finally sees you in his peripheral, to his left.

With your hair tied back in a ponytail that sways behind you every time you move, cascading over your shoulder when you crouch to settle on the floor; you’re a doll dressed in pale lavender and sunshine yellow, soft colours hugging your frame in all the right places as you sit down, legs apart, stretching your body towards your right, towards him. 

Steve has to fight the urge to stare, failing miserably when you raise your head and your eyes lock. You smile, pretty pink lips curling upwards, turning your cheeks into round bright apples. He likes the way your nose scrunches, how you unintentionally try to hide behind your shoulder, shy under his gaze.

He can feel his face grow hotter, fire under his skin, a drum inside his ribcage. You’ve got the kind of face that makes him want to melt, the kind of smile that sends his heart into a frenzy; and he almost misses the small hi that leaves your lips. You blink up at him expectantly and stretch over the opposite leg. 

Steve is frozen in place, knees bent awkwardly, a sweaty, heaving mess. But he reacts, and he hopes you keep on looking at him the same way. “Hey there.” He reaches out to touch the tip of his right foot unsuccessfully, his muscles protesting the pull, and winces.

You’re leaning forward now, your chest almost touching the floor, and your smile widens at his words. “You doing well over there?” 

The boy inhales loudly and nods, a bashful smile across his lips. “I’m not very flexible, apparently.”

A chuckle floats between the two of you. “Here, let me help.” You crawl away from your mat and kneel behind him, placing one small hand on his back and another on his thigh. Your skin is warm as you press your whole body weight against him gently, helping him reach. He would complain about the sharp pain on the back of his legs, but he’s at a loss for words -it has been a long time since he felt the touch of a woman, and what once seemed as natural to him as breathing -chatting up pretty ladies, that is- is now nearly as scary as facing a hungry pack of demodogs ready to pounce at him.

"Hey, what's your name?" You whisper, close, very close to his ear, your breath hot on his nape, igniting his cheeks aflame. How he manages to mumble his answer is a mystery, but he does, and he can hear the smile in your words as you tell him your own name. A pretty one that suits you just right, he thinks.

Steve grunts when you lean back, relief washing over him as he sits up straight. It startles him,  how he immediately misses your body on his body, your warmth on his skin. He wonders if you can see the effect you’ve had on him because you immediately place a gentle hand on his shoulder and ask, “Are you alright?” 

“I- I think I just broke something.” A god, he wishes he doesn’t sound as profoundly mortified as he feels.

“Is this your first time?” Smiling, you sit back down on your mat and bring your tummy down to your knee. Although there’s genuine curiosity in your words, they come out low and raspy and they make Steve blush -again. 

For the first time since the class started, he’s happy to be sweating, thankful for the loud music that conceals the loud thumps of his heart against his eardrums, and he prays that the flush that tints his skin is enough to camouflage his reaction. He swallows the lump in his throat, coughs, and nods. “It might be my last.”

Your giggle makes his breath hitch. "You just have to get used to it. It took me a few weeks." 

Steve could tell since he first saw you you're not new to the class. As if it were muscle memory, your motions seem to flow from one to the next. It's methodical and easy; each movement calculated, almost innate. He forces himself to keep his eyes on yours and to answer with what little voice he finds. "I don't think this is my scene."

“And what is your scene, Steve?” You say his name with a lilt and a chuckle, like you’re hiding a secret and daring him to find it out. And maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him, a little bit shy and a little bit daring, or the strands of hair that have fallen out of your ponytail and now frame your face all pretty. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s too overwhelmed and not thinking straight and you’re the only girl who hasn’t looked at him like he’s a complete loser in too long, but he wants to find out.

The class is nearing its end, the music now softer, and the instructor moves on to stretching. He’s running out of time. It’s now or never. So Steve smiles that smile that used to get him both into and out of trouble, the one that’s soft and warm and a little cheeky and makes his eyes crinkle at the corners; and he rejoices in the way a deep pink blush graces your face this time. 

“Are you hungry?” 

You raise an eyebrow and a wide smile -certainly a little playful, maybe a little smug- stretches across your lips. “Oh, I’m starving! I haven’t had breakfast yet.” You both stand up, mats forgotten on the floor.

That smile and the obvious enthusiasm in your words take Steve by surprise, his brief surge of courage crumbling down like a house of cards. When you get used to rejection, much to his dismay (and he would never admit it), it’s easy to set your expectations low; but your eyes are shining, and all too pretty, and his smirk falters. 

Two loud claps from the front of the room signal the end of the session and a collective sigh of relief makes the corners of your mouth twitch in amusement. The instructor turns off the music, and Steve is sure he would feel ecstatic about the silence, finally, if he weren’t so flustered.

“I- Well, I…”  The boy can feel his brain freeze and turn into mush. He throws a thumb over his shoulder and clears his throat. “Wanna go? Together? For breakfast?” Well done, Harrington, you dingus.

Cursing Robin mentally for how her jabs have begun to seep into his own vocabulary, Steve braces himself for your rejection because why would you want to hang out with such a babbling idiot? 

To his surprise, however, you simply shrug one shoulder and say, “Now?”

Steve blinks once, then twice and, as if in a trance, he finally nods. “Yeah.”

You smile again, this time a wide, pretty smile that lights up your whole face, innocent and sweet. “Sure! Let me go grab my things.” 

As you turn around and head towards the back of the class, a spring in your step and your ponytail bouncing behind you, Steve lets out a deep sigh and rubs his eyes with the back of his hands. He wants to kick himself silly. His plan was to ask you out on a nice date -breakfast at the diner right outside of town, pancakes and coffee; ideally, after a shower, when he’s not sweaty and, he remembers suddenly, wearing the ugliest outfit known to man. 

A cough startles Steve. He turns around to find two sets of eyes fixed on him. Max’s eyebrows are furrowed, but Steve can see the barest hint of an amused smile tugging at her lips. El is giggling, hiding behind her friend’s shoulder, and the boy would buy the coy act if he didn’t know better.

“What?” He says, curtly, tugging at his shirt with a sour face.

“Pretty.” El states, voice soft, stealing glances at you while you stuff a small pink towel into your equally pink bag. 

“I know.” Says Steve, still wary about the girls’ intentions. “I-”

Max, never one to not speak her mind, cuts him off way too loudly for his taste. “Are you taking her out or what?” 

Steve huffs. He plays with the strands of hair that fall flat on his forehead, too damp to stand up in his usual quiff, then gives the redhead a stern look. “You cannot talk to me like that, alright?” The boy points his index finger at the pair of friends. “Not today.”

“You’re still wearing that,” Max says, waving her hand lazily at his outfit, “and I’m still not taking you seriously.”

“Ungrateful children…” Steve complains, throwing his head back with a whine. 

“So, are you taking her out or what?”

“Yes, I am!”

“Then what about us?”

Steve’s head snaps back down and stares at the girls with raised eyebrows.  Unbelievable. “What about you?”

“You said you’d drive us back home.” El giggles, her arm wrapped tightly around Max’s.

The boy’s mouth drops. “But… I can’t.”

“Is everything okay?” Your voice makes Steve turn around with a jump, and Max and El chuckle under their breaths. You’ve put on a soft-looking jacket and your bag rests at your feet, and you look lovely. 

Steve grimaces. “Everything is fine, I just…” 

You raise one eyebrow, eyes jumping from the boy to the two girls who now snicker unabashedly behind him. "I can just go home if you're busy or something-"

"No!" Steve waves his hands frantically in front of your face. "No! I just-" 

Steve is certain his poor neurons have never ever worked this fast -not when Nancy pointed a gun right at his face, not when Billy Hargrove beat his ass-, yet so slow.

It feels like a movie reel in motion in his head, Steve travels the mall mentally to find a place to keep the kids entertained, just for an hour or two.

And just like a revelation, a miracle, an oasis in the desert, the light bulb turns on and he's never been so grateful for his job before.

He smiles. You smile back. Max and El take a step back. "Do you ladies like ice cream?"

                                                             -

The way from the studio on the top floor, down the mechanical stairs and across the food court to Scoops Ahoy takes your little group a dreadfully long time. For Steve, it’s never-ending. He’s not used to feeling self-conscious, quite the opposite, actually, but he’s struggling to cover his midriff with his duffel bag. 

Steve leads the way, rushing towards the stairs, trying to avoid the families and groups of tweens that arrive early, hiding from the scorching late June sun inside the cool shade of the mall.

He sees Lucas Sinclair’s little sister, Erica, sitting on the steps across the big fountain and tries desperately to cover his face with his hand and stepping up the pace. She can be mean, has been mean before -when Robin refused to give her more free samples of cherry ice cream or whenever Lucas walks by, so Steve doesn’t want to risk being seen.

You’re happily chatting with the girls, who are bombarding you with questions about your outfit (from JCPenney) and your bag (Sears), where you live (on the other side of town, near the library), if you attend this class often (every weekend like clockwork). 

It’s almost cute, Steve thinks, how El’s eyes shine with curiosity when you answer, and the genuine smile that has replaced Max’s smirk. Maybe, if his plan doesn’t work, you won’t mind them coming along.

When you finally reach the ice cream parlour, the mall is buzzing with energy. The calmness from earlier this morning has been disturbed by loud voices and laughter, babies crying and kids running around. 

There’s a line already at the counter, and Steve can see his co-worker, Robin, a sullen look on her face, handing a chocolate cone to a young girl. He doesn’t really want to do this, because he’s certain her mockery will be endless.

But when he turns around, you’re standing there, so beautiful even after that workout, happy and patient, and he really, really wants to take you out. You’re looking at him with a smile so big your eyelashes touch.  There they are again, those red apple cheeks of yours. He could just take a bite.

So Steve Harrington swallows his pride, squares his shoulders and takes one step ahead. "Wait here." He tells you. “You two, follow me. And behave. Please.”

El and Max follow him into the shop, ignoring the line and the objections -and threats- of those waiting. 

“No-fucking-way.” Robin Buckley is already bending over laughing when Steve reaches the counter. Her eyes are settled on his top, a hand over her mouth to perfunctorily conceal her amusement. “Is this a dream, Harrington? Please, don’t pinch me. I love it.” 

“Don’t say another word.” He pleads, brown eyes wide and desperate, one finger up in weak command. “I need a favour.”

Robin bites her lips, torn between her need to cackle as loudly as her lungs will allow her, and the pity she feels at how utterly hopeless the boy in front of her looks. She coughs, barely hiding her delight. “I’m all ears.”

“See that girl over there?” Steve turns around, waving discreetly at your figure while you look up at the Scoops Ahoy sign, amused. When Robin, who’s leaning on the counter,  hums, but remains quiet otherwise, he goes on. “I’m taking her out. Like, right now.”

“Wow. You got a date with her wearing that? Right.” Robin takes a step back and grabs a cone from the glass display case by the cash register. She resumes her duties, scooping ice cream for the unhappy customers behind Steve with an even unhappier expression herself. “Comedy is not your forte, dingus.”

Steve rubs his face, sighs deeply and walks behind the counter. “I’m not joking, we’re having breakfast together.” He waves at you when you make eye contact with him, your smile perennial, your eyes bright. His legs are shaking, willing him to run towards you.

“And what’s this favour you need? Do you want me to go with you? Help you not mess up, Stevie boy?” She snorts, and so does Max from her spot, sitting on a boat-shaped booth. 

“Ha-ha, funny, Buckley, really funny. No, I need you to keep an eye on these two.” 

His younger friends smile, all fake innocence and girlish charm.

“You want me to babysit.” Robin deadpans, matter-of-factly.

“No.” Steve grimaces. “I mean, yes, kinda. But this is an emergency. Please?”

Robin looks at him, up and down, once, then twice. The boy can see the gears in her brain turning and plotting, and he knows nothing good will come from it. She stays silent as she grabs two cones and places them neatly on the metal holders, and as she takes two big scoops of chocolate brownie ice cream (Steve’s favourite, he notices with a sour look) and sticks a little plastic spoon on each one.

“What’s in it for me?” She finally says, placing a maraschino cherry on top of one of the scoops and looking at her work with a pleased smile.

“Anything.”

“Okay.” Robin takes the cones and hands them over to Steve, who looks at her, bewildered. “You’ll do the weekend morning shift the rest of the summer. Wait here.”

She walks into the backroom, leaving a perplexed Steve behind, and comes back shortly after holding her Polaroid camera and grinning maliciously. She’s too quick for Steve, the camera flashes before he even has time to react. The white paper rolls out from the front, and she snatches it and starts shaking it eagerly.

In any other circumstance, he would fight for that picture, he would tear it to pieces and burn them so nobody could ever see the Steve Harrington wearing a sweaty, ugly blue top.

But this is the nicest Robin’s ever been to him, the first time she’s agreed to help him without complaining, and Steve is not going to wait for her to start, so he shakes his head, still puzzled, and slowly walks back towards the door. 

“The rest of the summer, Harrington!” Her voice travels across the store.

Getting up early every day for the next two months to work at an overrated ice cream parlour is almost as bad as getting up early on a Saturday to take two teenagers to an aerobics class. But your face lights up when you see the ice cream, and you thank him earnestly when he gives you the one with the bright red cherry on top that matches your cheeks.

Even though he knows she doesn’t like him, and even though he’s still not sure he likes her that much either, Steve turns around and gives his co-worker a thumbs up in gratitude. He smiles when he sees her take out her blackboard and draw a thin, black tally on the left.

                                                  🌷 🌷 🌷

a/n: i’m baaaaaaaaack. this is probably one of my worst stories (i like my original idea, but i’ll admit i wasn’t sure where to go with it) but i am a bit rusty and need to fall back into it.

i’ve missed writing so much, but i needed to get out of the house really badly. i hope you don’t hate this one. as always, likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. much love!

[teenytinyjimin]

je ne sais pas (j. hoseok)

dans mon esprit tout divague, (in my mind everything goes wild)

je me perds dans tes yeux (i lose myself in your eyes)

je me noie dans la vague de ton regard amoureux (i drown myself in the wave of your loving gaze)

je ne veux que ton âme divaguant sur ma peau (i only want your soul going wild on my skin)

summary: in which two strangers spend an unforgettable day together without actually getting to verbally understand each other.

pairing: hoseok x reader

word count: 2.8k

tags: fluff, language barrier, idol!hoseok, quebecois!reader, strangers to lovers, im bad at this tagging stuff

warnings: none, just enjoy some sweet hoseok fluff <3

author’s note: im really excited about this one yall 😭 i love the idea of language barrier romance because just think about it... u love someone so much that talking to them doesn't matter as much as the memories u create with them.. god ok ill stop speaking please please enjoy!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

The province of Quebec is often quite peaceful for about 85% of the year, with the exceptions typically being one of two things. First, there's always the typical influx of tourists that happens during peak times of the year like summer, Christmas, things like that. However the second exception is typically related to whatever artist is in Montreal for the Canadian leg of their world tour. It wasn't uncommon for there to be a little bit of buzz around the famous singer in question, however no one seemed to go harder than kpop fans when their group or soloist of choice was coming for a show or two.

You weren't really a fan of kpop in the way that many of your friends were. Sure, you've listened to some songs before, but you never felt the desire to get invested in any of the artists or the lore that came with them. It would be nice to hear your friends babble on about a new song that was released or a new tour that was announced, however you were absolutely not expecting the absolute freakout that was to come when BTS announced that they'd be doing a show in Montreal.

"Can you believe it?" One friend asked you with excitement. Yes, you could. They were famous. Of course they were going to come to Canada for a world tour. It's not that you weren't excited for your friends, who called themselves 'Army', but you just weren't as invested so it didn't mean as much to you. It also didn't help that a lot of their discussions with fellow fans and the things they'd post relating to BTS on their social media profiles were in English.

The majority of Quebecois people were able to communicate in English as well as their native language of French, but for some reason your family lived under a rock and you didn't learn anything beyond basic greetings and conversations in English. You felt rather left out because it felt like you were behind your friends and everyone else around you, however as you grew older you tended to not let it bother you that much. Since French is a prominent language in Quebec, you weren't bothered about language barriers and knew you could get around and live life normally without worry.

Since your friends were much deeper down the Bangtan rabbit hole, they were able to secure floor tickets to their Montreal show and were extremely busy completely overthinking the event and what they wanted to wear. It was now the day before the show and they were last-minute panicking, roaming the stores of downtown Montreal to put together outfits that were both cute and appropriate for the vibe of the concert.

Given that they were rather busy with this, you decided that this would be a weekend to yourself where you could peacefully do whatever you wanted. The quaint cafe you work at full-time decided to close for the weekend given the occasion (apparently the owner was also an Army), so it was a perfect opportunity for you to go down to the local park and do some reading on a bench.

And that's exactly what you did. You found yourself parked on the lawn of Mount Royal Park, right next to the lake. You brought some light reading with you, a small romance novel that involved the typical coffee shop trope, prepared to do some reading but also some people watching in between. It was absolutely perfect, and you couldn't have asked for a better way to spend the weekend. As you peacefully read your cliche novel, cup of iced coffee from a local coffee shop in-hand, you thought the day couldn't get any better. Until it did.

"Hey, excuse me, can you help me?" You looked up from your book to see a boy standing a short distance away from you. He had the warmest smile on his face and his eyes were bright with cheer. You tilted your head slightly, not too sure what he was asking. After a minute of silence, his smile dropped slightly.

"Uh... E-English?" He asked. It was clear that he was struggling with his words as well, even though you didn't speak the language. You shook your head, a slight frown on your face. "Français?" You ask in response, to which he mirrors you and shakes his head in return. The boy looks down for a second, clearly stumped as to what to do at this point. Part of you thought that he was about to walk away, however his feet didn't move from where he was standing.

After a second, he looked back up, his sweet smile once again appearing on his face. With his phone in hand, he pointed at it, then pointed at himself, then pointed at you. Was he asking for your number? Raising an eyebrow, you started to shake your head, however you watched as his smile dropped again and he shook his head rapidly. "No! No!" He said frantically, before mimicking the act of taking a photo, making a little 'click click' noise. He wanted a photo!

Finally understanding what he was saying, you grin and nod, causing him to squeal in delight. He approached you briefly to hand you his phone before backing up toward the lake a little more. You start to turn his phone landscape before he shakes his head and lets out a little yelp, indicating that he wanted the photo to be in portrait mode. You giggle at his antics as he attempts to pose in the way he wants, admiring his efforts to not only have a good photo but also to communicate with you.

Once it seems like he's ready for you to take the photo, you begin clicking the photo button and watch as he begins to move a little bit to hit different styles of poses. And wow, this man was incredible at modeling. You watched in wonder as he effortlessly moved his body in all kinds of directions, going from casual to silly to cute and back to casual. He was absolutely gorgeous, there was no denying that. A ten in a world of fives.

After a couple minutes, he stops posing and giddily bounces back over to you. When he takes his phone back to look at all the photos, he makes a couple of 'woaaahhhh' noises, clearly impressed with your photography skills. You turn away as a blush creeps to your cheeks, flattered that he's happy with the photos. When you look back you watch him slightly bow to you in thanks before pointing to himself. "Hoseok," He says, making sure to enunciate each part of his name in the correct way so that you know how to say it.

You smile and nod, offering your name back to him, to which his smile grows into one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen. If it weren't for your impeccable self-control, you probably would have fainted the very first time he smiled at you, given how absolutely charming he was. However, this most recent smile made you a little weak on your feet. You were able to tough it out and stay strong, but God, he was just stunning.

You go to sit back down on your spot in the grass, but before you get the chance to you feel a gentle hand grasp your wrist. Face hot with shyness, you peer back over to him and notice his smile has dropped. You watch as he points toward the exit of the park and into the main city, and gives you a 'come on' motion, indicating that he wanted you to come with him. If this would have happened a few minutes ago when he first approached you, you might not have taken the offer. But now that you've gotten to somewhat know this breathtaking stranger, it was an offer you couldn't turn down. Grabbing your book and iced coffee from off the ground, you decide to follow him out of the park.

As you step back onto the streets of Montreal, walking with this random man, you watch as he turns to you and thinks for a second. You can tell he was trying to figure out how to communicate his next thought, so you remain silent and patient. After a second, he points at his eyes, and then gives this huge gesture with his arms, almost like he's expressing something blowing up. Letting out a soft giggle, you tilt your head slightly, resulting in a laugh coming from his own mouth. His laugh was so loud, sweet, and full of joy, and it was like pure honey dripping from his tongue. He retries his previous charades, now acting like he is looking at something with his hand above both of his eyes. He then goes 'woahh!!' and gives an amazed look, and you realize that he's asking to see some of the highlights of the city. With a soft nod, you take his hand, watching a soft blush creep to his cheeks as you pull him along the street and show him everything he needs to see in your beautiful city.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

After spending hours with Hoseok, showing him about everything in Montreal and taking a picture of him with it, you found yourselves once again back in the park where you first met. It was a rather chaotic day, pulling the boy around and watching his face light up at absolutely everything, but what seemed to be weirder was the fact that multiple times during your tour you guys received a few looks and even whispers. Every time that it happened, Hoseok would indicate to you that he wanted to move on and go to the next spot while also pulling up the light scarf that he had around his neck to cover his mouth and nose. You thought that it was rather bizarre but dismissed it as people being disrespectful since he was a rather loud and excited tourist.

Now, though, it was just you and him, sitting in the grass in front of the lake as you ate a late lunch/early dinner. He asked you to go with him to a local store where he went around and picked out a bunch of ready-made food as well as a bottle of champagne, paying for it all and implying that he wanted to eat it with you back at the park. Considering this stranger was doing more than anyone had ever done for you in the last twenty-something years of your life, you were beyond flattered and at this point you were hardcore swooning for him.

You half expected your meal to be quiet and consist of you guys looking at the lake, looking at each other, and silently eating your meal. But this was Hoseok, the man you had learned was anything but quiet. Even though he couldn't speak your language and you couldn't speak his, he was telling you all kinds of stories through the power of charades and sound effects. For most of the time, he had you in tears, laughing at his impeccable sense of humor and all-around silliness. But he also provided you with moments of peace so you could eat without choking, which was rather respectful of him, you thought.

After a while of fun storytelling, you two fell silent. You gazed over at the lake, watching as the sun made the water shimmer, and let out a sigh. When you looked back over to Hoseok, you caught him staring at you, causing a blush to creep to your cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, you nudged him as a way to ask 'what are you looking at?'. Shaking his head, he hesitantly stretched out his arm to wrap it around your waist. Just by looking at him you could tell he was internally freaking out, his eyes wide with nervousness. You smiled softly and inched your way closer to him, accepting his embrace as you rested your head on his shoulder.

There was something about this man that was so much different from anyone else that you had ever met. His charisma, his kindness, his energy – all of it was so attractive. It was the fact that he wasn't just a pretty face, he was a pretty human. You could tell he was raised right with a heart of gold and you felt beyond lucky to have ever met him in the first place. For him to have asked you of all the people in Montreal to take a picture of him made you feel extremely lucky, because had he not approached you, the two of you would have never met.

He pulled back a little bit to prompt you to remove your head and look at him. You watched as he pointed at himself, then cleared his throat before singing a little bit of a song. His singing voice was as sweet as can be, and you were about to just sit there and admire him, until you realized that the song he was singing was familiar. You didn't quite know what the name of the song was, and he wasn't singing it in quite the right tone, but you knew it was by BTS. The kpop group that was currently in Montreal and about to perform the following day.

Your mouth gaped open as you realized what was happening. You didn't even realize that you had been spending the entire day with a member of BTS. The people looking and whispering throughout were probably people who recognized him, not people who were judging him. And he was hiding his face because he didn't want to be recognized. He just wanted to spend the day with a beautiful girl and feel like a normal human being. You didn't blame him for not telling you sooner, though. It's not like you're a diehard fan of his group, but you probably wouldn't have looked at him the same way had he told you immediately.

After processing what was happening, you closed your mouth and smiled, giving him a vigorous nod. Once he gave you a smile in return, you went back to resting your head on his shoulder and grabbing your glass of champagne to hold. You wanted to show him that it was cool, everything was fine, and things weren't going to change. You liked him as Hoseok, the boy he introduced himself as when he eagerly asked you for a picture earlier. Not the kpop idol that stands in front of thousands on a stage and performs for them.

As time continued to pass and the sun got to a point where the day started to become sunset, you two sat in blissful silence while enjoying one another's presence. After a while Hoseok once again nudged you, causing you to look up at him. You watched as he once again admired your face, a blush creeping to your cheeks as you became shy from the eye contact. Just as you were about to look away he reached his hand over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, and then rested that hand against your cheek.

At this point there was no need for charades because all you needed to do was look into his eyes and he told you absolutely everything you needed to know. He dipped his head down slightly as you both pulled each other in for a kiss, his sweet lips meeting yours in absolute harmony. Your stomach did about five thousand backflips as adrenaline coursed through your veins and your brain went fuzzy. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, this was a moment that you were waiting for practically all day. Little did you know, however, this was a moment that he had been anticipating even before he spoke to you for the first time. It all started when he saw you from a distance and his heart almost beat out of his chest because he was so enamored by your beauty.

As you both pulled away from the kiss, you watched as his mouth curled into the sweetest heart smile and he leaned in once again to peck the tip of your nose. You knew that today was going to be absolutely perfect, but your new romance made it about ten times better than perfect if that was even possible.

It's safe to say that the next day you were at barricade at the biggest concert of the year in Montreal, courtesy of BTS' resident rapper and dancer, J-Hope. Or, as you knew him, your smiley Hoseok.

[daphwritesworld]

BMB CHAPTER 5 SNEAK PEAK !!

a/n: sorry y'all I got distracted with watching all the games that were on today….and then I got distracted by beer lol. anyways, I only have about 2k words left, so i'll get this finished up and posted first thing in the morning !! love you guys and thank you so much for being patient with me during this time. can't wait to see yall's reaction to this full chapter hehehe

FULL CHAPTER OUT NOW: READ HERE !!

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

"Have a nice day and good luck with Leah!" Keira calls out the window.

You laugh before turning your head around, "Thanks Mum, I'll make sure to stick to the plan!" And then you're off to head into the building. Thank god Keira picked you up so early, because it looks like only one other car is here…and that just so happens to be the blonde defender's Audi.

The beating of your heart accelerates with every step you take, and it rises till it drowns out your hearing. Just a steady thump. thump. thump. thumping that has you worried you might pass out. You're trying to think of what to say to her, but your mind is completely blanking. As you see the door of the changing room you are 85% sure you might throw up as soon as you see her. So you take a few seconds to calm yourself down, remembering Keira's words as you close your eyes and take deep breaths like earlier. When you reopen them you bite the bullet and walk in, and for the first time in a week…she looks at you.

It feels like your heart stops in your chest, and the words on your tongue suddenly get trapped inside your throat. Your eyes search hers, and then your mouth is moving before your brain can catch up. "You look like you haven't been getting much sleep."

She doesn't scoff or turn away like you except. Her eyes just soften a bit as she speaks, "I can say the same for you, y/l/n."

Ouch. Still on a last name basis? To be fair you haven't even gotten to step one of the plan yet, so let's allow room for some grace.

"I got you a tea!" You blurt it out like an idiot, jutting your hand out towards her with a blush dusting across your cheeks.

"You sure it's not for Russo? I mean, we're both blonde and apparently just your typ—" you cut her off with a kiss.

She freezes at first, and that makes you panic. You go to pull away as you start apologizing, "I-I'm sorry, Le—" but it's her that cuts you off this time. She kisses you with more force behind it, her hands searching out for your middle. But they stop just as she's about to touch you, hovering her hands as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. "Do you think you deserve for me to touch you?"

You can feel the heat radiating off of her body. A frown etches its way onto your face as you bite your lip, "No…but I can earn it."

Leah takes the cup from your hand as she sets it on the bench behind her, quickly turning her attention back to you. She decides to take a seat on the opposite end, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she does. "Come here," she licks her lips after she says it. You walk in front of her, leaving some space until she tells you what to do next. That must be the wrong move though, because then she's reaching out and pulling you to stand between her thighs. "Now get on your knees."

You swallow the lump in your throat as you follow her instructions, setting your knees on the cold floor as you stare up at her. She lets one of her hands rest on your cheek, "Open your mouth, y/l/n."

When you follow her orders, she shoves her index & middle fingers into your mouth. I mean Keira did say you'd have to kiss ass, and if this is what she meant? Oh you'd do it all day long. You gag at first, tears gathering as you try and relax your throat around her digits. She doesn't let you get used to the feeling, removing them after about 30 seconds. You don't expect what she does next though. Leah slides her own hand down her shorts, using your spit as lube for herself. She bites her lip as she starts rubbing circles into her clit, watching you squirm as the reality of the situation starts to settle in. You stay locked in a state of shock until she slips her fingers inside her pussy, moaning out a mix of curses and your name. You start to lay kisses on her inner thighs, but you're quickly stopped by her free hand gripping your hair. "You touch me again without permission, and I'll leave you here like this. Wet, untouched, and unsatisfied. So sit there and watch like a good girl. Prove to me how sorry you are."

"Yes ma'am," the grip on your hair gets tighter, and a small smirk flashes across your face from the action.You make sure to stay on your best behavior after that. Even going as far to sit your hands on top of your thighs so you aren't tempted to disobey. She looks absolutely stunning like this. Her chest starts to heave up and down as her fingers speed up inside her shorts, and her sounds of pleasure echo off the walls around you. "Take your shorts off," she says it breathlessly.

You hesitate a little, head snapping over to the door as your fingers linger on your waistband. "I won't ask you again, y/n." You look back at Leah,"Take. Your. Shorts. Off." She exaggerates with a tug to your scalp after every word, sending jolts of electricity flying through your body. Your hands finally start shoving the useless piece of fabric down your hips and you let them pool around your ankles. "Nuh uh— all the way off," Leah rasps out above you.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

the creeping shadow reread

30th October

6 I hope Lucy kept the mirror for some reason

11 Poor Ted and Tina, lmao Dave "an angry tree stump"

Thursday 31st October

21 it IS an honest profession Skull

24 "Lucy, Lucy... it nevers end well"

33 "Lucy has been gone ages" bless Dave

37 adults can be helpful not this one

49 interesting word choice bud "why don't you hook-up with Anthony Lockwood again?" and why do we need a rating Harold? why would you need a rating of danger when you're going to destroy the Source????

60 is it Lockwood? Yeah it is "As I met his gaze, he smiled- and that smile was a world away from the 100-gigawatt version you saw in the papers. It was warm but somehow hesitant, as if it hadn't been used recently" it'd be so funny if she just closed the door on him, also the specific type of mess? him holding her laundry? I would rather die

66 I loved the tea making scene in the first read of this book and I love it now

70 just like how I love Lucy wanting Lockwood to beg for her return to the company "on bended knee"

[hey guys I wonder how this scene would play out in the show would we see Lockwood approach her door? or would we see him leave and smile at the baby steps I want option two because Cameron has an adorable smile]

74 Poor Georgie "George was pretty cut up about it"

76 hey more Listeners for my glossary card and the wiki

80 hey a Lockwood smile

85 complimenting Marissa

96 "mad and bad" just the way you lunatics like it right? "Penelope Fittes knew I had a reputation too." hahaha

103 "Studious unconcern" what are you think about bud?

108 black market hunting

111 was Holly going to ask what Lucy found in Jessica's room? (I think I had the same question last time as well)

Friday 1st November 2024

115 so glad we can't see Guppy

126 What's up Skull? "for a moment I thought I felt..."

131 Kipps being punished for being independent

134 big guy indeed

154 lmao Kipps "what do you idiots want now?"

157 happy Lucy "I couldn't help smiling back at him"

160 crowbars whoop!

176 "You waltzed off on a whim and left us to pick up the pieces"

184 I love this description and the emotional lockdown Lucy is on realising her place was broken into and the Skull was gone

191 "what's that rank smell?" Now is not the time + comments that kind of ruin the tension a little bit

195 (chapter 12) such an innocent picture of a guy sitting on bench enjoying the sun

202 chilling moment "its lifeless occupant with the twisted, broken neck"

206 I wonder what would have happened if she used her torch sparingly (and as a weapon? blinding her pursuers?)

218 Lockwood and George going overboard on dressing her wound

222 this hurts very much them keeping her room the same but also storage the idea of Holly staying over and where she would be staying

249 Lockwood not sharing the plan again and lmao Holly "it was like a bomb went off" like she knew Lucy wasn't the tidiest of people at the best of times so she had to realise. Also Lucy avoiding Lockwood's eyes is so funny

253 Poor kitty cats fuck Rotwell

260 folklore is so interesting and I want to know more about their research

264 Did Holly realise Lockwood was why Lucy left and making him look like that is her revenge?

270 what's moving in Flo's bag?

275 Hope the kid is okay?

281 I love you Skull and yes Lockwood and Lucy are dense

2nd Nov 2024

283 "missed you so much Lucy"

289 Ding! Ding dots are connected

291 Leopold recognising Lucy is great

294 Bless Flo

296 "Scariest of the lot" yeah Mrs Winkman is scary in that she doesn't really look it

299 "he pulled me to him" as things exploded

313 compliments "You're an amazing agent, Lucy"

316 "I found Lucy" adorable and I bet you flushed Lucy

321 the secretary is very sweet but alas is a tosser of the Orpheus Society

325 what did happen at the opening of Mrs Barret's coffin?

326 Immortal you say? interesting word choice

328 Jaw dropped competition

342 Fight the kid... do it

348 It is a bit severe execution for selling rotten meat pies

353 "spooning his stew round and round, as if by some alchemy it might become edible" I know that feeling Kipps

357 Electrical interference ding! ding!

363 RIP model ship

378 Lmao Lockwood does have a reputation

380 I love this smile

394 what is Lockwood thinking? "We could always do something much simpler"... when were you guys holding hands?

406 clever boys asking questions of all these coincidences

423 recognition "they stared at the baton, open-mouthed"

425 this is bad "we were loyal enough" and I really can't pinpoint why other than "you have to tell him no"

429 "oh God. Yes" lmao

437 "it was ugly, heavy, brutally functional" and very unwieldy

442 lmao Skull and into the unknown

449 why not name the Fetch instead of saying "a ghost"

450 Locklyle shipping "I'm glad I've got you with me. I think you keep me safe if anything. Right then, the cape wasn't the only thing that kept me warm"

469 Skull helping is great

475 I love George

481 love Lockwood saving Kipps

485 Suck it Steve

496 I love Holly

500 Chips are nice

503 Danny is very cute

510 why not both? Skull enjoys the view and gets to scare the toddlers next door and yes it is awkward

520 fuck off Rupert and always find information

524 Leave Kipps alone

528 dun,dun,dun

[rebelrian]

The Chasms We Cross - Spy x Family Twiyor One Shot

Biding my time until Chapter 86 releases on Sunday - we don’t know if Endo will resolve this arc in the next chapter so I’m putting this out here first as my speculation of how Twilight and Yor will reunite!!

Summary:

More than gripes, Twilight fears resentment will grow between him and Yor.

Note:

Picks up from Chapter 85 of the manga. Some characters’ fates are just speculated at and this fic may be completely way off from what Endo has in mind…but we’ll only find out when the chapter drops. More personal notes below the cut, only available to read on Tumblr for now.

Spy x Family manga spoilers ahead. For general audiences. Enjoy reading this fanfic!

The Chasms We Cross

by rebelrian

Between his front porch and the door to his apartment, Twilight felt a chasm had formed. Once he crosses the threshold, he would have no choice but to put on his mask as Loid Forger. To be Loid Forger would be to face Yor and Anya as an upstanding, even-tempered family man; a psychiatrist beloved by his colleagues and patients. After the events of that day, Twilight couldn’t say he deserved to be that man, let alone be welcomed in the space the Forgers called their home.

The bullet wound left by Yuri burned fresh on Twilight’s arm.

Ironically, Twilight had Yuri and Nightfall to thank for his escape from the SSS. Yuri, who would have not hesitated to end him if he was faster, even more resilient; Nightfall, who may never recover from the damage she inflicted on her own body trying to save Twilight.

A flash. A bloodied Yuri. “Yor…I’m so…sorry…”

Nightfall, bones breaking, still standing. “…But I’m not afraid. I believe in that man.”

“It’s what makes me strong.”

Twilight heard it all. Wheeler made sure he knew Nightfall’s words even if he hadn’t. In the eye of his adversary, Twilight tapped on the strengths of Yuri and Nightfall who had fallen before him. People who were unafraid to lean on others and be their support in return. He thought of Bond, leaping into a burning building for a stranger’s dog; Anya saving a drowning boy twice her height; Anya braving a full scale hostage attempt; Anya running into Yor’s arms after. Yor.

Yor chasing after a pickpocket; Yor stroking Anya’s hair, ever generous with her embraces; Yor singing a lullaby to him on a park bench, rustling leaves providing soft accompaniment. An autumn night’s breeze. His mother.

With that, he silenced Wheeler once and for all.

The damage done to WISE and Operation Strix is still unknown. He’ll hear more about it from Handler in time to come, but he’s doubtful the SSS lost all the intel with Wheeler. No matter how he looked at it, WISE is definitely compromised, with more agents down to boot.

So where does that leave him and the Forgers? “Lay low,” said Handler. “Carry on with your daily routines until we can ascertain the damage to our operations in Ostania. We got this far…it would be a pity to retreat at this stage.”

Even in disguise, Handler’s hooded gaze remained the same. Unreadable. “Set your family’s hearts at ease.” Those were her last words to Twilight before dismissing him.

He reached their front door. The man paused, unsure whether to enter. Would anyone be waiting for him at this late hour? Surely Anya would be asleep by now, no doubt dreaming of pandas and penguins. But Yor…would she wait for him like he does for her? Would she have had her dinner yet? Thinking back on how they parted earlier this morning, it’s possible she may not be so considerate of him. Could he blame her? If you can do one thing right today Twilight, it’s to not let Yor down anymore tonight. If she’s behind that door, you owe it to her to finish the morning’s conversation.

The man let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and regained composure.

The white light of their living room flooded his vision as the door creaked open. Sure enough, Loid’s wife was perched on the sofa, twirling her hair. Pensive.

Ruby eyes widened at the sound of footsteps and darted to the tall figure that was her husband. The first thing Yor noticed was the bandage wrapped around his head. Her hands flew to her mouth.

“Loid! What happened?”

Loid Forger gave an apologetic grimace, like it didn’t hurt at all. “Oh, today’s emergency patient was quite the challenge. But it’s nothing that won’t heal.”

In truth, his whole body was screaming to collapse; he was beaten, starving and thirsty. But this was important. This felt larger than him, or even Operation Strix. He owed it to this pure, beautiful woman to set her heart at ease, knowing he will only continue to hurt her once she finds out she almost lost her only living family today. Twilight mustered the last bits of energy and clarity for the day’s last mission.

Yor wasn’t too sure a blow to the head counted as a minor injury and kept a watchful gaze on her husband. Nevertheless, the tangled tension that wrecked her the whole day slowly unravelled and her body relaxed finally seeing Loid home safe and sound.

“O-oh…I suppose that’s why you’re back so late today.” She tugged at the sleeves of her red sweater nervously. Of course Yuri was wrong. Loid wouldn’t be out cheating on me…why do I always let other people doubt my trust in Loid?

Loid hung his hat and coat by the doorway and closed the distance between them in long strides. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call in the day and left you so abruptly this morning…a lot has happened since we…” Argued. If what happened counted as arguing. Twilight still couldn’t make sense of their morning predicament. Yor remained unusually stoic. In that moment, she almost looked…unfeeling.

He suddenly felt self-conscious and ran a hand through the tuft of hair left exposed on his head.

Yor finally responded. “It’s ok Loid, these things happen,” she said quietly.

A beat. A twin ache. Both lonely figures stood in the middle of their living room, appraising each other.

The lady took the first steps; she was now close enough to rest her hand on the man’s shoulder. He inhaled.

“Welcome home, Loid,” she said, standing on the tip of her toes. Ruby eyes met steel eyes, a question forming in the latter pair. But for the first time, Yor did not waver in front of her handsome, perfect husband.

She closed her eyes and kissed him.

Twilight was stunned. The last thing he expected was to be greeted with warmth. He kept his eyes open to see if it was true; that Yor Forger’s plush and soft lips were on his; that her cheeks were not flushed and her breathing was measured. She was not drunk. She was calm and her sincerity was as clear as day. His heart ached at this intimate gesture and he tentatively kissed her back.

When they pulled apart, Yor’s hand still rested on Loid’s shoulder, her other hand held close to her heart. Loid’s steel eyes softened, one hand hovering over her waist.

“Yor…”

And that one syllable did it. The only thing Twilight could do today was falter and falter. His knees gave way and the only thing that stopped him from hitting the ground was Yor’s iron grip. The last thing he saw was a halo shining above her.

———

Twilight woke up to the waft of tomatoes. He was bundled on the sofa and there on the coffee table, was a serving of Yor’s signature southern stew complete with cute chunks of misshapen potatoes. Strips of stubborn potato skin clung sparsely. A first aid box sat waiting in the wings of the accompanying jug of water and plate of warm loaf bread.

Just as Loid sat up, Yor returned to the living room with their tea and took a seat beside him.

“It’s nothing new and not nearly as good as any of your dishes…but you look like you haven’t eaten the whole day, Loid.” Yor’s brow was furrowed.

“I never get tired of your stew, Yor.” It was the truth.

After the first sip, Loid ate the rest of his meal ravenously. He took a bite of the loaf and groaned appreciatively. Yor giggled in spite of herself. She had never seen her husband so unrestrained. So relaxed.

With his appetite satiated, the man’s senses slowly came back to him. Here he was, enjoying food prepared by Loid Forger’s wife even when he abandoned her without a satisfactory explanation. Despite that, Yor Forger took a courageous leap and kissed him for the first time. Welcomed him home. Not knowing Yuri could have died by his hands if he didn’t stop himself. Twilight was starting to feel sick; he didn’t deserve any of it.

“Yor, we need to talk about what happened this morning.”

Yor’s fists were balled and resting on her knees. She seemed a bit stiff, but prepared.

“I-I’m sorry for confusing you earlier, Loid. The truth is…I was finding gripes with you because the girls said it was normal for couples to have them…”

Yor could feel the heat flush up her neck but she forced herself to continue.

“It was foolish of me picking a fight when you’ve been nothing short of perfect, Loid. I’m…actually the happiest I’ve ever been, married to you.”

She didn’t dare meet his eyes as she finished the sentence, so she couldn’t see the tender gaze Loid had for her with each admission. What she did see was his hand closing over one of her fists, his thumb making deep circles, coaxing her fist to unfurl. She flattened her palm on her thigh and let it be blanketed by his warmth. Slowly, she willed herself to meet his gaze.

“Yor, I’m nowhere near perfect.”

Loid looked unrecognizable to her in that moment. He was still…him, but there was a deep melancholy pushing through the surface. Just as sincere as whenever he told her she was already doing her best as his wife. She couldn’t help but tear. Is that really you, Loid? You look like a man who’s lost everything.

He gave a sad smile. “By gripes, do you mean not spending enough time at home with you, Anya and Bond?”

“Well…it could even be…unsweetened omelettes…” She wished a hole would open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

Loid gave a soft chuckle and brought his other hand to her hair, pushing away locks of hair from her eyes. “Bland omelettes and family time are things that can easily be resolved as long as we’re a team, Yor.”

“But if you ever resented me…I would definitely lose all of you. You…Anya…Bond…this home.” Again, the man rose to the surface.

“I’m not sure I’m prepared for that, Yor.”

When he willed himself to remember, the man was no stranger to discord in families. It was a reality he witnessed everyday in his childhood home. His parents wasted no breath firing ammunition at each other whenever they were together. Their words mentioned school, mollycoddling, awful dinner, but even as a boy, he knew his parents were stoking at a deeper ember. One that would never burn out. In the end, their resentment for each other manifested in chasms between all three of them; as fate would have it, his father was gone first; his mother followed after; the boy left alone, marooned on this damned Earth.

Until now.

Yor clasped both of Loid’s hands and mimicked the way his thumbs caressed hers. Her eyes were a different kind of ember, ones that beckoned and drew him in. Yet, he was afraid to approach her.

She spoke in hushed tones, but she did not stutter.

“Loid, I don’t regret being a Forger.”

“We were complete strangers when we first met…and yet you let me into your home and entrusted Anya with me. I’m sure I must have befuddled you many times before, but you never stopped trying to understand me. I never knew a place where I belonged before you and Anya. Both of you have always accepted me as I am.”

What Yor said next surprised him. “This resentment you speak of…I’m not afraid of it. I don’t believe in it.”

“For as long as I want to protect this peace we have together, I’ll never stop trying to understand you, Loid. Even if it’s selfish…I don’t want to leave the Forger family.”

Twilight let her words steep.

To protect this peace we have together…

”But what if you misjudged me, Yor? What if…I let you and Anya down?”

Yor considered this and something retreated in her; the empty stare teased at the coals of her ruby eyes once again.

“It’s possible you have misjudged me too, Loid.”

Her next words took all the bravery she could muster. “But would that stop you from being with me?”

Twilight looked at the lovely stranger before him. She, who always doubted how normal she passed off as when it was really her unfailing honesty and trust that dulled everyone else in comparison. She, a transparent soul that also hinted at an infinity of trick mirrors.

Perhaps she was like him too.

Perhaps there was hope for them still.

Perhaps the man could be selfish in indulging in Loid Forger’s cast.

Perhaps this doesn’t change the way Twilight can be, anymore than what has already changed in his last months as a Forger.

Loid pulled Yor closer to him until she almost fell into his lap. His eyes shone as clear as day, the fog cleared.

“No. I want to stay with you, Yor Forger. If you’ll let me.”

Their faces were inches apart, their breaths tickling each other. There was no more tentativeness. In that moment, they both saw each other. Yor’s words were a whisper before they were lost in the pull of their lips.

“I do.”

———

Notes:

I could be very wrong but I think Wheeler could be killed off soon. The man is too formidable a foil to Twilight and him surviving is danger on all fronts to all characters!! We still don’t know what info he stole!!!!

For weeks since this arc started getting stressful, I was so worried Loid would spiral after the whole incident and distance himself from his family, or even riddle himself with guilt over Nightfall. But after Chapter 85…I held onto a glimmer of hope that Twilight will be a bit more honest and more willing to change his views on relying on others as a spy.

Will Twilight and Yor kiss?? This fic says yes but my guess is as good as any. I’m not familiar with Endo’s other narratives or approaches to romance, but I doubt it’s as slow burn/ambiguous as Rumiko Takahashi (a personal observation since I’m more familiar with her romantic comedy dynamics in shonen stories). I have a feeling Endo might let Twiyor progress a bit and that Twilight will be more forgiving of the contradictions of his role earlier than expected.

Is Yor’s speech supposed to mirror Donovan Desmond? Yes. Could she be the answer to world peace? Probably (I kid). Though while we’re on the topic, wouldn’t it be wild if Melinda Desmond hires Garden to assassinate her own husband in later arcs? And instead of Twilight meeting the final boss first in the final showdown…it’s Thorn Princess.

I have so many feelings and I just can’t wait for Twilight and Yor to reunite!!!!

Perhaps I’ll get on AO3 once I receive the invitation email.

[makesometime]

PROMPTS :D 85, 88, 89, or 93 for Azu & Zolf if you feel like any of them? 🥺 (right next to them is 84 which is. a VERY DIFFERENT VIBE but it made me cackle.)

88. “Maybe it’s best that we don’t go home.”

(endgame spoilers)

The necklace around her neck hasn’t glowed in days. There’s a stubbornness to her heart that says it will, but with everything in the world around them so very lacking in joy and sparkle, she’s not sure she can hold onto that hope forever.

The sound of squeaking metal sounds off to her right and she inhales sharply as she looks over, only to find Zolf approaching in the chair Cel fashioned for him out of things they found nearby.

It’s the first time she’s seen him without Wilde in days, and he looks worse off for it, like all of the demons snapping at their heels have found a foothold while he’s vulnerable.

“Hey, Zolf.” She says, and he does his best to smile at her, in the same way she attempts to smile at him.

“Hey.” He says, his voice weary. “How’s things?”

“They’ve been better.” She nods, the silence between them heavy as he settles beside her. She breaks it with a sigh, folding her hands together in her lap, over where her armour is a little tarnished. “Why does it feel so much like we failed, even though we won?”

Zolf’s lips curl up into a smirk at one side. “Been wondering that myself.”

Gods, she hates silence so much. Why is it so easy to fall into, now? She usually has so much to say.

“I don’t know what to do next. Before this, I couldn’t wait to go back to my village and share my adventures. Now, though?” She looks at him, sees his eyes full of understanding sympathy, and has to try not to cry. “Maybe it’s best that we don’t go home.”

The way he reaches out to her is a little stilted, but she can tell he’s trying. His hand settles cold on hers. “I think that’s exactly what you should do. No matter how long it takes.”

“It’s easy for you, Zolf. You’ve found your home.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Doesn’t make it easier though.” His voice goes quiet and he looks away from her, drawing his hand back. “Might make it worse, actually.”

Azu’s heart aches. For him, for herself, for all of their friends trying to make sense of the world they’ve created.

“Would you sit with me for a while, Zolf?”

He nods, moving himself next to the little bench she’s found to perch on. It doesn’t make things any better. But gods, it certainly doesn’t make them any worse.

And a bonus, just for you:

#84: “We shouldn’t. You’re married and I’m pregnant.” 

(endgame spoilers)

They’ve been drinking for a while now, all of them except for Azu of course. But Azu gets just as drunk as she ever did on love and life and friendship and doesn’t need to imbibe to be giddy and foolish just like the rest of them. 

The music that plays is some of his favourites and he’s got a kiss from when his husband tottered on unsteady legs to the bathroom lingering on his lips, so he can’t help but hold the hand she’s placed on the arm of his chair, squeezing it gently when she beams at him.

(Oscar tells him that he’s got a lot more handsy when he drinks, which he’s been assured with several eyebrow wiggles isn’t a problem in the slightest, but he can’t deny it now, her warm palm soft against his own.)

Carter says something that has her roaring with laughter, leaning backwards with a hand curved over her belly. Zolf smiles, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it, and she looks at him with such adoration that he can’t imagine ever not having her in his life.

Her eyes flick above his head and then back to him, her face turning playfully stricken, her free hand clutching at her chest.

“Zolf! We shouldn’t!” She gasps, leaning closer to him even as he feels a presence behind him. “You’re married, and I’m pregnant!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Oscar says, a smile audible in his voice as he rests his forearms on Zolf’s shoulders and leans in close. “Do I get to watch?”

[sailormoonandme]

Mamoru is NOT useless in the Anime Part Tri: Power & Worth

Last time we compared Anime and Manga Mamoru's power levels in order to dissect the idea that anime Mamoru, in being less powerful than Usagi is unworthy of being her romantic partner.

However, there was a lot more I wanted to unpack from this particular idea the 'Mamoru is useless' brigade are prone to pushing. Specifically on the very notion of linking power to worthiness.

Power Creep

This is one of my shorter points but, its seems rather insane to suggest that Mamoru needs to be of a minimal power level to be worthy of Usagi.

Usagi in both versions is at least functionally the most powerful entity in the known universe. Even if we go arc by arc, she is almost always the most powerful person on the good guys team. The time period before she obtained the Silver Crystal was only time when the gap in power between herself and the other Senshi was in any way close, and even then it depended on who you were talking about. Mercury was clearly weaker than Usagi, her attack was a glorified smokescreen. Was she unworthy of Usagi's friendship? Were Makoto and Rei the MOST worthy of Usagi's friendship because they were the most powerful Senshi?

Did they all become progressively less worthy of her time and affection as Usagi steadily grew ever more powerful across the series? In Crystal Tokyo, when Usagi could transform the barren frozen Earth into a glittering utopia, did she have 0 friends because she was now just THAT powerful?

Was Star Serious Laser just so powerful that it meant Seiya ranked highest of all for Usagi's affections? After all, I do not see anyone arguing that Seiya was not powerful enough to be worthy of Usagi's love...almost like there is a double standard in play...

And how demeaning of Neo-Queen Serenity, who was so powerful she could terraform a lifeless planet Earth into a glittering utopia, to allow the now incalculably weaker King Endymion to have sex with her and thereby conceive Chibi-Usa.

Or...does this work by you simply have to be of a minimal power level and then you can be worthy of Usagi no matter how powerful she gets?

Please enlighten me fellow Moonies?

Power DOES NOT = Worthiness

Finally...isnt it just plain old reductive to equate power with worthiness?

Sailor moon is a super hero at the end of the day, so let's look at examples from other superhero fiction. In fact, lets look at the most famous example within the genre.

Superman is by far and away the most famous (though not necesarilly popular) of all superheroes across the globe. Superman can fly, has super streangth, super speed, enhanced durability, heat vision, x-ray vision and sometimes can freeze stuff with his breath. And whilst the exact degree of all of those abilities has varied (originally he was stronger than ten men, later he could pull multiple planets at the same time) he has always been mindbogglingly more powerful than even the most elite of human athletes.

And who has he frequently been paired up with from the past 85 years?

Oh, that's right. A human woman, Lois Lane. She might be extraordinary in her own way, but she isn't going to be bench-pressing a tank anytime soon.

Ah, but there are those who reject the most famous superhero couple in pop culture for that very reason, arguing that Superman should instead be with someone who is powerful in their own right like he is. Someone like, say, Wonder Woman?

The problem here being that...well...Wonder Woman is almost always weaker than Superman. By a WIDE margin. At the end of the day, she is incredibly strong but her strength has limits whilst Superman's are in fact dependant upon circumstances. If he absorbes enough yellow sunlight he is functionally limitless in how powerful he can become. So...is Wonder Woman unworthy of Superman too?

Regardless, let's instead turn our attentions to something more comparable to Sailor Moon.

In Dragon Ball Z the Goku and Vegeta and Gohan can annihilate whole Solar Systems but Mary human women, falling for them because of their strong, wilful and aggressive personalities.

In Yu Yu Hakusho, written by Naoko Takeuchi's husband, the main character is a demonic prince basically and falls for a normal human.

How about all the boxers, MMA fighters, wrestlers and action movie stars who marry people who are not in those kinds of professions, people who are physically weaker than them?

All of them unworthy too?

Power DOES NOT = Worthiness, regardless of gender

Ah, but these are all where the man is more powerful. But...if we argue that the situation is different in the reverse...isn't that just a classic (say it with me folks) double standard?

Are we to seriously entertain the rather backwards argument that a man is not worthy of a woman's affection if they are weaker than her?

If so let's look at some other examples.

She Hulk has dated normal humans Wyatt Wingfoot and John Jameson.

Carol Danvers has the power of a star and has fallen in love with War Machinw, who is a man with high tech armour nowhere close to that power level.

Jean Grey has been more powerful than her lovers Cyclops and Wolverine since even before she became the Phoenix, a cosmic entity so powerful it consumes stars for energy.

Wonder Woman has the power of the Greek Gods and her frequent lover, and in her original canon husband, was a regular human soldier.

In Cutey Honey F, the magical girl reboot of the classic 70s anime that helped inspire Sailor Moon, Honey can annihilate and create anything she can want. She is in love with a demonic prince, but ultimately marries a normal man and private eye who always had her back despite being put of this depth with the threats they faced.

And what about all the women in real life who have married, or remained married to men with disabilities? Men who by any metric are physically weaker than their wives? For example, all the women that married or remained married to soldiers who were horribly injured during either World War? Or, any of the wives of Stephen Hawkins, with even his first wife aware of his illness.

All of which is to say...maybe Mamo is worthy of Usagi's love regardless of him being less powerful than her.

Conclusion

Mamoru in the anime...

Is.

Not.

Useless.

Please.

For.

The.

Love.

Of.

<insert whatever/whomever you worship here>.

Fucking.

Stop.

Claiming.

He.

Is.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Hey Goose! I had a vision for our autrizzum couple (I’m also sorry for not answering your ask. Executive dysfunction is kicking me in my ass and I have no clue when I’ll have the motivation to respond 😭)

So, it’s the morning after the whole alley/park event. We established that the two of them would completely ditch the “party” and go somewhere where it’s just the two of them. Say it’s a hotel, but I don’t imagine they’d get freaky yet (Ester isn’t ready to have all of her scars on full display yet, since they cover 85% of her body)

So the two literally sleep together. Like they actually just fucking go to bed and sleep in each other’s arms. Sure, it was after they made out for an hour and a half but Ester wound up sleeping on Klaus’s chest, drooling all over him and snoring all night. That was probably the best nap she’s ever had in her entire life, maybe it isn’t the same for Klaus cause he has to deal with Ester’s sleep apnea ass 😭🙏

The two wake up (more like Ester wakes up cause Klaus probably didn’t sleep cause she sounds like a steam engine 😭) to about 300 missed calls from Zach and any other shadow you can think of. Ester got calls from both her work phone and her personal phone, along with being bombarded with text messages from Zach.

She groaned, rubbed her forehead, and cursed under her breath.

“Man, I hope whatever they needed us for went to shit.” Ester muttered, scrolling through the messages and call log.

Let me know what you think!

I absolutely love this, but first of all, honey I get you with the executive dysfunction. It's something I tackle practically on a daily basis, so take all the time you need with anything I ever send you <3 There is never any rush to answer my asks, they'll always be there and so will I! Just be kind to yourself and put your needs first <3

But, yes, to reiterate, I adore this. I think it's very much them to not rush head first into something of this calibre anyway (Klaus is awkward and takes things slow anyway, especially when he really cares for the person, and make no mistake he really cares about Ester).

I imagine that after they talk on that bench/rooftop, although I think I wanna say rooftop because that's more romantic - there's a full moon and the night's pretty clear too (cue Klaus probably rambling about the stars and constellations, pointing out his favourites or something, 'cause he'd definitely have one). Anyway, after that, Klaus is looking up the nearest hotel on his phone, they're tired, it's been a relatively stressful night due to their mission/whatever the party was for, and catching some shut eye would be nice.

Of course, with the nature of both of them, when they end up in the hotel, there's maybe a bit of awkwardness but not the unsavoury kind, more so an unspoken word of "what do we do now? what do we want?" Klaus would be so so respectful and gentlemanly, given her scarring and would understand not wanting to reveal that to him, even if it's not something overtly expressed to him. He can pick up on certain things sometimes and he'd assumed it would be something along those lines. I imagine that when they're in bed, Klaus wants to hold her but I don't imagine it would be entirely full on cuddling; they're trying to sleep and being stuck together like that can be uncomfortable and this man needs to be laid on his back, bolt straight with one pillow under his head. His arms have to be out over the covers. But she'd feel his hand resting on her over the covers. It's kinda like... a silent reassurance that he's still there for her, but that she's still there for him.

And yeah, when they wake up, their phones are pinging with the notifications. Zach has definitely sent Klaus a few messages. Maybe there's a couple from Steph.

Klaus, buddy, you better be ready for an interrogation when Zach sees you because he has it in his head you've kidnapped his sister.

Klaus is thinking, oh fuck...

Listen, Zach can be protective and Klaus could have maybe sent a message saying they were both fine. Alas, they were shattered and wanted to sleep.

Although, Klaus woke up the next day feeling very lucky to be able to wake up next to Ester, not sure he'd quite be able to believe it to begin with.

Also, I reckon Klaus can sleep through anything if he tries, so Ester's snoring wouldn't bother him too much XD sure, it took him longer to fall asleep, but he got there eventually.

[torreshalstead]

It Seemed Like a Good Idea - Chapter 15

Summary - Hailey’s US visa was due to expire, which normally wouldn’t be an issue as the CPD would get it renewed but due to a backlog of paperwork, this wasn’t possible. This meant Hailey was faced with the real possibility of having to leave the country, her job and everything she held dear. That was until Jay offered up a solution which would allow her to stay in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him - they could get married. Getting married was a good idea, right?

Chapters - 15/20

Chapter Title - The Sleepover

Notes - this is one of my absolutely favourite chapters so happy reading! AO3 Link

‘So where are we supposed to go?’ Hailey overheard Kim saying when she entered the locker room. The brunette cop was pacing back and forth clearly close to tearing her hair out at whatever the reason for the phone call was. ‘And you can guarantee we can get back in tomorrow evening?’ She huffed, dropping down to the bench with a soft thud.

Hailey hovered in the doorway, her friend was clearly in distress but she wasn’t sure it was her place to intervene - she didn’t know how private a situation she had walked in on.

‘We look forward to your call,’ Kim said sarcastically before hanging up the phone and running a hand through her hair.

‘Everything okay Kim?’ Hailey asked, taking a tentative step into the room.

‘Just my apartment getting fumigated with minimal notice so they need us out for 36 hours,’ Kim explained. ‘Now I’ve got to find somewhere for me and Makayla to stay tonight and we can’t stay with Adam because the muppet managed to flood his apartment two days ago so he’s with Kevin until it dries out. Trudy is in the process of turning her spare room into an AirBnB so there’s no space with her either. A hotel is expensive but it’s looking like our only option,’ Kim rambled off.

‘What about me and Jay?’ Hailey said before thinking. ‘We have a 2 bed so you two are welcome to stay.’

‘I’m sure you don’t want us cramping your newly wed style,’ Kim brushed her off but Hailey shook her head and stood her ground.

‘I’m serious Kim, if you and Mak need a place to stay you can stay with us,’ Hailey smiled warmly. ‘Jay won’t mind.’ She was about 85% sure Jay wouldn’t mind, he wouldn’t want to see his friend and her child turned out onto the street and paying Chicago prices for one night in a hotel on a cops salary wasn’t going to be fun.

‘Are you sure Hailey?’ Kim asked, still clearly unsure.

‘Positive,’ Hailey smiled. ‘We can make it into a sleepover, I’m sure Mak will love it.’

‘Thanks Hails,’ Kim said, a huge grin pulling on her cheeks as she jumped up and pulled the blonde into a tight hug. ‘I appreciate it so much.’

‘You’d do the same for us,’ Hailey wrapped her arms around Kim and squeezed. Now she just needed to break the news to Jay.

——————————————————————————

‘Of course it’s fine,’ Jay shrugged. ‘I’d have offered too if I’d have known.’

‘I know I should have checked with you first,’ Hailey said, apologetically. Jay was reacting exactly the way she had expected, like it would be no big deal to have people in their apartment where they were supposed to live together as man and wife.

‘They are our friends Hails, it’ll be fine,’ Jay said, squeezing her arm. ‘I’ll just kip on the floor in your room. I’d say the couch would be fine but that would be hard to explain if either of them came out and saw me there,’ he chuckled lightly.

‘That was my worry,’ Hailey said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘We managed to act like a couple all day at our wedding and afterparty, we had Mouch and Trudy over and nothing happened, this will be fine too. We can order a pizza and stick on a movie and no one will suspect a thing,’ Jay said, squeezing her arm again and waiting for her to raise her eyes to meet his before he let go.

‘I did say we could turn it into a sleepover,’ Hailey smirked.

‘Then a sleepover we will have,’ Jay winked and Hailey couldn’t help but smile. She also felt a warmth spread through her at the thought of having a sleepover with Jay. She knew it was stupid, he was going to be sleeping on the floor and it wasn’t like she had never fallen asleep with him before.

There’d been a couple of occasions now when she had woken up tucked into his side on the couch with the TV volume turned down low with him scrolling on his phone. He always said he didn’t want to wake her or she looked too comfy to move, but a small part of her wondered if he was also enjoying the newfound closeness they had been experiencing both since they tied the knot and specifically since he had met her mother with her. That night she had slept in his arms for hours and she had felt so safe and if she was honest with herself, so loved. She hadn’t slept that well since.

There had been other nights where they had wished each other goodnight and retreated to their own rooms and a part of Hailey had debated knocking gently on his door and either inviting him into her bed or crawling into his. But she still couldn’t tell if he wanted it. Sometimes she was certain that he wouldn’t shirk her advances but then a voice in the back of her mind would wake up and tell her she was being foolish and why would he feel that way. So she never did. She would simply fall into a less than restful sleep missing the feeling of his arms around her.

——————————————————————————

Makayla bounced through the door when Jay pulled it open. Hailey was standing in the kitchen, she had been trying to put away the rest of the washing up before their guests showed up but that had clearly failed as the dishes still sat cluttered on the drying rack.

‘Thanks for having us,’ Kim said with a shy smile.

‘It’s no problem,’ Jay said, reaching out a hand to take her bag. ‘I’ll pop this in your room and then I think Hailey is going to order some pizza’s if you want to go tell her your favourite,’ he smiled down to Makayla whose excitement was infectious.

Hailey smiled warmly at the interaction between the pair and failed to notice Kim come to stand next to her.

‘He’s good with kids,’ Kim said quietly. Her voice shocked Hailey who jumped and turned to stare at her, she had a grin on her face that Hailey couldn’t quite read.

‘Yeah he is,’ she agreed.

‘Are you guys…’ Kim trailed off and when Hailey looked confused she added, ‘you know…’ raising her eyebrows.

Hailey suddenly realised what her friend was implying, ‘oh no, not at all!’

‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ Kim apologised.

‘No, you’re fine,’ Hailey shook her head. She wasn’t offended by Kim’s question but it wasn’t something she had ever considered people may ask now they were married. Hailey wasn’t even sure she wanted kids, and when she was currently in a fake marriage with her best friend who she wasn’t even sure what her real feelings were towards him, it wasn’t something she was even considering. ‘I’ll just be the favourite Aunt,’ she said with a forced smile, ignoring the image that had swam into her mind of a little girl with blonde hair and familiar green eyes being pushed on a swing by a tall figure that she didn’t even need to look at to know who it was.

‘You’re my favourite Aunt!’ Mak said loudly, bounding into the kitchen towards the pair of them.

‘Don’t let Aunt Nicole hear you saying that,’ Kim said with a smirk, running her hand over the young girl's braids.

‘She’s not the one buying pizza!’ The adults both had to laugh at Makayla’s statement.

‘That’s true,’ Hailey winked. ‘Okay so what pizza’s am I ordering then?’

——————————————————————————

‘I’ll just be 30 minutes,’ Kim said, apologising once again as she headed to the door.

‘Kim, I’m sure Hailey and I can keep your kid alive for at least an hour,’ Jay smirked from his position on the couch, he had given Makayla control of the remote so she was focused on scrolling through the movie options.

‘Well you say that now,’ Kim sassed back.

‘We’ve got her, go see your landlord and if you think you’ll be there longer just text us and we can put her to bed if needed, though I think Jay will probably have her so hopped up on sugar so that might be a trickier one,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘It’s not a sleepover without sugar,’ Jay said with a boyish grin.

‘Go Kim, we’ve got it,’ Hailey smiled, opening the front door.

‘Okay, I owe you both,’ Kim said, pulling Hailey into a quick hug. ‘I won’t be long.’

Hailey closed the door behind her and turned back to the pair sitting on the couch. ‘You both going to be alright if I quickly grab a shower?’

‘Of course, I promised this one I’d make popcorn surprise,’ Jay grinned.

‘What’s the surprise?’ Hailey asked curiously.

‘We can’t tell you Auntie Hailey or it wouldn’t be a surprise,’ Makayla said seriously, her little brows furrowed as if how dare she ask.

‘Exactly,’ Jay smirked, adding a wink for good measure. ‘Have a nice shower and we promise to leave you some popcorn.’

‘Popcorn surprise,’ she muttered to herself, smiling as she headed to the bathroom.

——————————————————————————

Hailey took her time in the shower, it had been a long day at work and her shoulders were incredibly tight so the hot jets were providing some welcome relief.

When she finally ventured out, wrapping one of the large white towels around her body, she could hear Jay and Makayla chatting from the living room. Kim was clearly still out talking to her landlord. Hailey wasn’t paying particular attention to what the occupants of the living room were discussing, focusing more on pulling out a pair of comfy sweatpants and oversized tee but then she heard something that made her hesitate and listen.

‘Uncle Jay, can I ask you a question?’

‘Of course,’ Hailey heard Jay say.

‘You and Auntie Hailey are married right?’

‘We are, you were at our wedding, remember?’ Hailey heard a giggle and smirked at the memory of Makayla dancing around in her Elsa dress under the twinkle lights that adorned Molly’s.

‘And you got married because you love each other?’ Hailey’s chest tightened at this and she pulled her towel a little tighter around her as if it was a shield.

‘Yes, that’s normally why people get married,’ Hailey could tell from Jay’s tone that he wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was heading.

‘And being married, does that mean you love her more now?’

‘I guess it does,’ Jay responded softly and Hailey dropped herself onto the edge of the bed. She knew she shouldn’t be listening but she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t block it out now.

‘How?’

‘Well now we are married and we live together, I get to see all the little things about her that I didn’t know I would love, grow into things that I would miss if she ever wasn’t with me again.’

‘Like what?’

‘Quite the interrogation Miss Burgess, your mother would be proud,’ Jay chuckled.

‘Don’t change the subject Uncle Jay, what do you love most about Auntie Hailey?’

‘Well obviously she’s beautiful, but she’s also super smart and super kind. She always puts everyone else’s needs and feelings before her own. Like in the mornings she will always pour my coffee out for me when I’m in the shower so it’s ready when I get out. She always makes sure to put her shoes away because I like things neat and tidy even though she doesn’t really care. So because she’s my wife, I always try to put her first in return, like making sure if she’s cold I give her my sweater, or having her favourite music in my car, or snacks in my bag in case she’s hungry.’ Hailey’s breath caught in her throat. He did do all of those things, she’d never thought about it before now.

‘That’s nice of you.’

‘Well it’s always easy to do nice things for the people you love.’

‘What else do you love about her?’

‘I love how she’s not afraid to be herself, she’s genuine and honest. I love how brave she is. You might not know this about your Auntie Hailey but she is one of the bravest people I’ve met, even though I always want to keep her safe and wrap her in a big hug.’ Hailey wrapped her arms around herself, his words had hit something that she had buried deep within and all of a sudden it wasn’t her own nakedness that was making her feel vulnerable. It was the idea that Jay knew her better than she had ever thought he did, all the things that she thought she had kept under wraps, he knew and understood, and if what he was saying was to be believed, he loved.

‘She gives good hugs,’ Mak said matter of factly and Hailey grinned.

‘She does.’

‘And now she’s your wife, you get to hug and kiss her any time you like.’

‘I do.’ Hailey felt her chest tighten.

‘I want to get married someday.’

‘You do?’

‘I do, and wear a pretty dress like Aunt Hailey did’

‘You can wear a pretty dress anytime you like.’

‘I know, but I also want the big party.’

‘Well that is an important bit.’

‘And if it’s my party then I don’t have to leave early and I can dance all night. Do you and Hailey get to dance together?’

‘We do sometimes, but there’s not always opportunities for dancing when you’re a police officer.’

‘You should dance with her more often Uncle Jay, girls like to dance.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Is Auntie Hailey your best friend?’

‘She is.’

‘Was she your best friend before you got married?’

‘She’s been my best friend for a very long time.’

‘And you’ve always loved her.’

‘For most of that time, yes.’ If Hailey had been holding anything it would have clattered to the floor at his admission.

‘So why did it take you so long to get married?’

‘Well it can take a while to make sure the other person feels the same as you do.’

‘Why didn’t you just tell her you loved her when you felt it?’

‘It’s not always that easy,’

‘Love it the easiest Uncle Jay, you just feel it.’

Hailey had heard enough, she all but ran back into the bathroom, the towel falling to the floor. She stared at herself in the mirror, her wet hair hanging around her face, droplets of water still lingering on her skin. She reached out to trace her lips with her hand but then her eyes zeroed in on the ring on her finger.

She didn’t know what it was about Jay’s words that had hit her so hard tonight, he had just been telling the same story they had told everyone; friends, family, Immigration officials. But it felt different tonight. His words felt so true they had wormed their way under her skin. Maybe it was that he could have brushed off Makayla’s line of questioning and changed the subject. Maybe it was that he could have painted it into a fairytale for the young girl. But he hadn’t. He had spoken from his heart, he didn’t know she had been listening and she was certain he wouldn’t have spoken so openly if he had.

As she looked into the mirror, her blue eyes swimming with tears reflected back at her, she was overwhelmed with emotions. She had been letting herself enjoy the concept of being married, of having Jay as her husband that she had failed to realise something crucial. It wasn’t that she was falling in love with him. She had been in love with him since before this had all started. Maybe it was the thought of losing him that had caused her to spin out so badly when there was a threat she would have to leave the city. Sure she loved Chicago and she loved her job. But she loved Jay more.

And he had all but admitted to Makayla that he loved her back. That he had loved her since before this had happened.

She smiled at the possibility that her feelings were not unrequited, that he would return her affections. But as it always did when her own happiness was at the forefront of her mind, her self-sabotaging tendencies bubbled up. Images of him laughing at her if she admitted how she felt, of telling her it had all been a lie, of telling her he didn’t love her back and he never would.

She let her eyes fall to the ring. Why was love so complicated? Makayla had said it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe it was to a child, but to Hailey, it was anything but.

——————————————————————————

When Hailey finally reappeared from her shower, Jay could sense there was something playing on her mind; she was jumpier when she sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder like he had done many times before. Maybe it was the pressure of having to keep up the act in the privacy of their own home, he guessed it must be weighing on her mind.

She relaxed into him after a short while, her gaze focused on the screen currently playing Moana, courtesy of Makayla, but her eyes seemed glazed over and less than focused.

‘You alright?’ He asked in a soft whisper whilst Makayla was distracted singing along to Your Welcome.

‘Yeah, just tired,’ she responded with a small smile. ‘Kim should be back soon.’

That was clearly he was all he was getting out of her but he tightened his arm around her, just as a reminder that he was there for her and whatever she was thinking, he could share that burden.

Kim returned about 20 minutes later, the conversation with her landlord clearly being lengthier than she had initially thought.

‘She’s been good as gold,’ Jay said cheerily when Kim took a seat on the other end of the couch.

‘How much sugar did you give her?’ Kim asked, wide eyed as her daughter danced around the living room.

‘Jay made his popcorn surprise,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘And what, pray tell, is in popcorn surprise?’ Kim raised an eyebrow.

‘Apparently telling would ruin the surprise,’ Hailey responded and Jay nodded, concealing his grin. ‘But if the boxes in the trash are any indication it involves a lot of candy.’

Kim groaned whilst Jay laughed.

‘Okay, Mak we can watch until the end of the movie but then it’s straight to bed okay?’ Kim said.

‘Okay mom!’ Mak took a pause from the dancing to grin at her mother before throwing her arms above her head and spinning around again.

Jay kept Hailey tucked into his side for the remainder of the movie, she continued to ease up as it progressed and by the scene with Tafiti her hand was resting on his thigh and her head had dropped onto his shoulder. He hoped whatever had been playing on her mind had eased but if she still seemed preoccupied tomorrow he would ask her about it. He had learnt it was best to give Hailey a bit of breathing and processing room before pressing her for explanations to her behaviour. The more you pressed the more she would close herself off and bury whatever was bothering her deeper down.

——————————————————————————

‘You don’t have to sleep on the floor Jay,’ Hailey said quietly when Jay exited the bathroom. The room was lit purely by the singular lamp from Hailey’s nightstand, the blinds had been drawn and blocked out all the remaining light from the Chicago skyline. Hailey was already under the sheets on the near side of the bed, her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow as she lay on her side to look at him.

‘I thought we said it would be weird if I slept on the couch?’ Jay puzzled.

‘I wasn’t suggesting you sleep on the couch,’ Hailey spoke softly. ‘We are both adults, it’s a big bed.’

‘Oh’ Jay realised what she was saying, what she was offering and he suddenly lost the ability to form a coherent thought. ‘Umm..’ he swallowed, ‘if you’re sure?’

‘Of course,’ she said with a gentle smile, ‘but if you kick me I withhold the right to push you out the bed,’ she chuckled and the lightness that was usually between them was back in the air.

‘That sounds fair,’ Jay agreed. ‘And if I tell you I also sleep on the left side?’ He smirked.

‘Then I know you’d be lying,’ Hailey countered, ‘you sleep on the right, or are you forgetting that I’ve seen you in bed?’ Her cheeks flushed as if she realised what she was saying and the moment she was referring to.

‘How could I forget that?’ Jay murmured as he crossed to the other side and drew back the covers. He had replayed the moment that Hailey had woken him up and kissed him more times than was probably sane and definitely more times than he would ever admit to.

He climbed into the bed, getting himself situated and marvelling at how ridiculously comfy Hailey’s mattress was as Hailey switched off the light.

‘Night Jay,’ he heard her say through the darkness.

‘Sweet dreams, Hailey,’ he responded.

Jay stared at the ceiling, listening to Hailey’s breathing and choosing to focus on nothing else for a few moments. He wanted to reach across, to tangle his fingers with hers or pull her back against his chest, bury his face in her hair, pepper her neck with kisses, but he didn’t do any of that. It felt like taking advantage. She had invited him into her bed to sleep, nothing more. Who was to say she wanted him to do any of that anyway, maybe it was all in his head. She was only pretending to feel for him how he felt for her.

He let himself ponder it for a moment until he felt the familiar warmth of Hailey’s hand pressing against his. She linked her fingers with his and he let out a sigh, he hadn’t thought she would reach across and break the invisible barrier but she had and he couldn’t be more grateful.

He let his thumb drag against the back of her hand, aimlessly swirling patterns against her warm skin. It didn’t feel like enough though, he would hold her hand until the end of time if it was all she would allow but he wanted to feel more of her against him. The nights she had let herself fall asleep in his arms, he had never felt more at peace. He had never let himself drift off, stayed awake relishing in the contact and he could never promise he wouldn’t have an unwanted physical reaction either. She didn’t deserve to wake up to that.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one who wanted more though because he felt Hailey twist in the bed from her back to her side, her other hand coming to rest on his bicep - it was now her time to start tracing patterns against his skin. If she could see in the dark he imagined she was connecting all his freckles in a never ending constellation.

His breath hitched as her fingers brushed lightly against his skin and he heard her also intake a sharp breath. He squeezed her hand, hoping he could silently tell her that it was okay and he liked what she was doing. He was terrified if he spoke aloud, he would scare her away. It was like they were both using the comfort of the darkness to edge closer to the line that existed in their relationship.

As he tried to figure out a way to pull her into his arms from this position, she seemed to read his mind. He felt Hailey scoot closer to him, keeping her fingers tangled with him, her other hand moved from his arm and settled on his chest, just over his heart. He let out a shaky breath as her head tentatively rested against his shoulder. She hoped he couldn’t feel how quickly his heart was racing underneath her finger tips.

It still wasn’t enough though, yes she was leaning against him but he still felt like a silent participant. He shifted and briefly dislodged her but before she could pull back he unlinked their hands and used that arm to wrap around her back and remove any remaining space between them. His hand rested on her hip, and his other came up to join the one resting against his chest. He mingled his fingers with hers and kept it pressed against his chest, praying his heart would slow down but he knew with Hailey finally in his arms it was unlikely.

Hailey let her head rest against his chest, tucking herself as close as she could, her legs resting against his so there wasn’t a part of them that wasn’t touching. He couldn’t see her face from here, knew she couldn’t see his but he couldn’t help but smile and hoped she was doing the same.

‘Night Jay,’ she murmured, her voice distorted as her face was pressed against him. That was all he needed to drop a kiss to the top of her head and tighten his arm around her.

‘Goodnight Hails,’ he said, allowing his eyes to close, the smile still tugging on his cheeks. He didn’t know what had made her seek him out this evening, knew they should probably talk about it, their current situation was less than platonic but he didn’t care. The woman he loved was in his arms and that was enough for now.

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 70 (part one)

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here

Days 62-69 here

***

51. "Fuck, I need/want you so bad."

85. "Th-There are people outside this door--" "Well, this isn't about them, is it?"

145. "Shit, I'm so fucking hooked on you it's not even funny."

148. “Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill."

***

A muffled giggle and the sound of a phone camera jarred him to wakefulness, though he kept his eyes closed and muscles relaxed out of habit until he realized where he was.

Blinking his eyes open, he whispered, “Cass?”

His older sister stood on the low bench next to Damian’s bed, phone in hand. Her dark eyes danced with mischief.

Shit. He'd probably slept through most of the morning, then. Tim carefully angled himself up to a sitting position, pressed his finger to his lips, and tiptoed out with Cass following closely behind. Once the door clicked shut behind them, he turned to her. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Duke and I have a lunch date, and we decided to meet here first. But also I heard what Dick said on comms last night. Wanted to check on Damian. I didn’t expect to see you in his bed.” She paused, long enough that the heat crawling up Tim’s face made it all the way to his hairline. “Though maybe I should have.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to be in his bed, so I don’t know how you could’ve,” Tim replied with perfect honesty. His shoes were just outside the door, so he grabbed them off the floor. He checked his pockets, realized he’d left his wallet and keys in the car, and started heading for the front door. 

Cass followed once more. “Hey. Little brother. Do you really think you’re fooling me?”

Tim stopped in his tracks and tilted his head up toward the ceiling, blowing out a defeated sigh. “What do you mean,” he said tonelessly.

She moved to stand next to him and bumped his shoulder with her own. “I mean the fact that you two have had sex and now you don’t know what to do with him. Your entire body’s screaming about it. I wouldn’t have expected you to be so upset.”

Tim snorted in derision. “Why wouldn’t I be upset about it?” He started for the stairs again while she easily paced him. “It was a stupid thing to do and now it’s biting me in the ass every day.”

“I’m pretty sure biting you in the ass is what Damian would like to do every day. But that’s none of my business.” She gave Tim an angelic smile in response to his outraged glare. 

Tim cartwheeled down the stairs to give himself an out from the conversation, but she followed, sliding down the bannister on her stockinged feet. They arrived at the ground floor in the same moment. Tim dashed for the door, but Cass beat him there and stood with her back pressed to the wood, covering the doorknob.

The playful gleam in her eyes faded as he stood there, shoulders slumped, avoiding her gaze. “Tim. I’m worried about you.”

“I know, I know, it was a huge mistake and I’ll—"

She interrupted with a confused twist of her mouth. “No, I’m not saying that it was a mistake. That’s not something I can tell from body language. But every time I’ve seen you for the past several weeks, you’ve been moving like you were shot in the gut and you're scared it'll happen again.” She took a breath, then continued with deliberation, “And Damian moves like he’s been stabbed in his heart and the knife is still stuck in his chest. If you’re hurting each other, that is my business.”

“Damian isn't hurting me.” Tim stared at his shoes, still clutched in one hand. “I don't know where that's coming from.”

“But you are hurting him?”

He shrugged, shame closing his throat too tightly to let words escape.

Realization dawned on her face, and with it, concern. "You're hurting him and yourself. Don't do that.” She darted forward and pulled him into an embrace. “Don't hurt yourself.”

“I don't know what to do, Cass,” he croaked, letting himself lean into her wiry strength. Her head only came up to his chin but she was so powerful, one of the few people in his life who needed him not at all but wanted him all the same.

She tightened her arms around him until his ribs creaked, but the pressure felt good. Grounding. "Because you're scared. I get that."

"Yeah." His temples throbbed with the tears that wanted to form, but he fought them back. He wasn't a child, for God's sake.

"What if you weren't?" She stepped back to meet his gaze, and this time he didn't try to look away.

"What if I weren't scared? I guess then I wouldn't be in this mess."

She shook her head, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No. I mean, what would you do if you had no fear?"

"Oh." Tim thought about it. He was brave, but it was in spite of the fear he carried with him, not due to its lack. He could never be like Stephanie. "I don't know. It's hard to picture."

"Then pretend you're fearless. See what you would do." She jumped up and kissed his cheek. "I don't like to see my brothers sad. Fix it."

"Yes, ma'am." Tim gave her a mocking salute, and she grinned as she swung the door open to let him out.

***

For the rest of the week, Tim neither evaded Damian nor sought him out, but Damian avoided him. Tim couldn't blame him for that, but he hadn't realized how often Damian initiated contact between them until it stopped. The absence hurt.

Cass's question kept surfacing at the most inconvenient moments in his thoughts, while he was in the middle of a presentation, or when he was trying to fall asleep: What would you do if you had no fear?

On Friday night, he lay down on his couch again to figure it out once and for all. If he weren't afraid of Damian—

No. That wasn't fair. Tim wasn't afraid of Damian, not any longer. He was afraid of himself, of the power he had to wound whoever was reckless enough to want a relationship with him.

So. Pretend sick terror didn't flood every cell in his body each time he contemplated a real, actual relationship with the baby bat. Pretend he was brave like Steph. No need to figure out why, just figure out what he'd do in the absence of the fear.

Put like that, the answer was clear. He'd pursue Damian like he had everything else he'd really wanted. He'd work on earning Damian’s affection and trust, while allowing himself to acknowledge his own desire for the same. He would accept the possibility of failure while refusing to allow it to dictate his choices.

“Fine!” he groaned to no one, picking up his phone.

First, he texted, i hate u for being right all the time to Dick, then copied the message and sent it to Kon too, after deleting the all the time part. 

Next, he texted Damian. hey where are u rn

Almost immediately, Damian responded, I refuse to engage with you via text until you begin utilizing the punctuation skills of a first grader at least. 

A pause, then he added, I’m not far from your home. Currently I’m in the first course of a working dinner with some business partners from London and Father, and bored out of my mind with the inanity of the conversation.

Tim smiled involuntarily. Bruce had invited him to that one and he’d turned him down, so Damian must’ve been the backup plan.

Which restaurant?

Di Fratelli, in the Hotel Belle Monico.

Rolling to his feet, Tim headed for the bedroom. He had some dressing to do.

***

Every upscale restaurant in town was familiar with Bruce Wayne and his coterie of offspring both official and not, so when Tim walked into Di Fratelli the maitre d’ immediately asked, “Joining the Misters Wayne, sir?”

Tim nodded, and followed him to the semi-private area of the dining room where Bruce was charming the money out of a group of five men and women whose entire selves screamed Financial District. Damian was at least giving the appearance of paying attention, although the subtle curl of his lip gave away his true opinion of the proceedings. One of the women touched his arm and hand four times just while Tim was walking over. Damian glanced up and caught Tim’s gaze on her hand. His eyes widened the slightest bit.

Bruce’s casual expression changed to something with genuine warmth as he saw Tim approach. “Ah, here’s Tim! Hey, sport, didn’t think you’d be able to make it. Sit down!”

Tim accepted the extra chair the server offered him, but pulled it up next to Damian at the end of the table, separating him from the woman. Sitting down, he allowed his calf to press against Damian’s, following with his leg when the other would have pulled his own away. Even just that much contact felt so good. How could he have missed the fact that his whole body felt like it was spinning directionless in space until it grounded itself against Damian?

Directing his most charming smile around the table, he said, “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to touch base with some of our most important business partners, Bruce. Plus, the truffle ravioli here are to die for.”

He kept up the flow of conversation effortlessly during the meal, something that couldn’t be said of Damian, who stayed largely silent and startled almost visibly when Tim allowed his hand to rest casually on his thigh under the tablecloth. Tim allowed one corner of his mouth to pull up in amusement at the reaction. Damian would definitely notice that and seethe about it, but he also wasn’t doing anything to force Tim to remove his touch.

After an hour of business dealings under the guise of camaraderie, Damian excused himself. Tim gave him a full five minutes before looking into the middle distance and feigning surprise. “Oh, I see an old friend on the other side of the restaurant! Excuse me for a moment, please.”

Hands in his pockets, he wandered in the general direction of the restrooms, which also took him to the hotel proper through the inside entrance. He’d barely made it into the hall before a side door opened and Damian’s hand dragged him through it into a conference room with only a long table, video conferencing screen, and a dozen office chairs, plus a tiny dim lamp that currently provided the only light in the room.

Tim raised his eyebrows. “What’s up?”

Damian was scowling, but Tim could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “Why are you here?”

Tim tilted his head in mock consideration. “Well, the food is really good.” Damian’s frown deepened. Right. Sincerity. “But also, I was worried. I don’t like the way we left things the last time you were at my place, and I haven’t seen you since you got hurt.”

With a shake of his head, Damian reached for the doorknob. “Save your worry for yourself. I’m fine.”

Without missing a beat, Tim grabbed his outstretched hand and threaded his fingers through Damian’s. “I’m not surprised to hear that. You’re an expert in carrying on even when wounded.”

Damian scoffed, but Tim noticed he made no attempt to free his hand. “Don’t flatter yourself. You couldn’t possibly wound me, any more than Faust did.”

“Bullshit.” With a tug at his fingers, Tim pulled Damian closer and wrapped his arm around his waist. “You didn’t deserve what I did.”

Damian’s other arm hung limp by his side. “I expected nothing else. The fault was mine, for being foolishly sentimental.”

Ouch. Tim winced into Damian’s jacket lapel. “No. And I’m sorry for teaching you to expect that from me.”

“Drake.” Damian pushed him back slightly by his shoulder, but kept his hand there after Tim had moved. “You haven’t honestly answered the question. Why are you here?”

“I didn’t want to wait to see you and apologize. I already let too long pass since the last time.” Tim shrugged. “That’s the honest truth.” He let the hand he still had on Damian’s torso slide down a couple inches, just inside the waistband of his pants. “And I missed touching you.”

Damian went still, eyes narrowing. Despite his hesitation, his hand moved over Tim’s arm in what looked like an unconscious caress. “What is this? What are you playing at?”

Tim couldn’t say he didn’t deserve the skepticism. And Damian definitely deserved more of an explanation, but that was complicated by the fact that Tim actually had no idea what he was doing here. He was just flying blind with no plan other than to get into Damian’s pants. 

“I’m not playing,” He settled for saying, and tugged Damian closer by a belt loop. “I told you a while ago that I didn't know what I wanted.” Damian nodded. “I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out. I really want to do this with you, as long as you do too.” 

Damian’s breathing started to pick up speed. He made one more attempt to pretend this wasn’t going to happen, but his entire body was leaning into Tim. “Th-there are people outside this door—”

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Watching carefully for any objections, he moved his hand to Damian’s fly, palming his cock through the fabric.  He was already half-hard, and getting more so under Tim’s touch. With the hand not otherwise occupied, Tim slipped open the buttons of Damian’s shirt. He made an appreciative sound at the sight of his torso, still sporting the patterned marks he'd left. God. He was used to seeing beautiful bodies, since the superhero circuit rarely produced anything else, but Damian’s gorgeously human muscles and warm brown skin were next tier. 

Tim licked across his chest, one long swipe of his tongue. Damian moaned, loud and obscene, and Tim’s breath twisted in his throat at the sound. “Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.”

Damian lifted a sardonic eyebrow that failed to hide his anticipation. “That’s part of the thrill. Right?” He backed up to the table and pulled Tim along with him. Sitting on its edge, he splayed his legs wide. 

Tim straddled one of his thighs so that his cock pressed hard into the thick muscle. “You’re not wrong about that. Fuck.” Angling up on his toes, he kissed Damian once, twice, three times. Tiny, light kisses meant to show liking rather than lust, though both were fighting for dominance in his chest at the moment. “I want you so bad.”

Damian’s only reply was to grab his ass with both hands and yank him closer so Tim’s leg was pressed to his erection too. Tim cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him more thoroughly. Slow, tender, like they had all the time in the world. Tension drained out of Damian’s shoulders as Tim sucked on his lower lip, gently drawing it between his teeth. He’d felt out of control for so long, but with Damian submitting to his touch without question, it felt like he’d gotten a little of it back again. He ground into Damian’s thigh, letting him feel how hard he was. “Shit, I’m so fucking hooked on you it’s not even funny.”

Damian’s face had gone intent with desire, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. He moved with Tim, their hips circling in a slow, steady rhythm that had them both panting for breath. “Drake—this is—so foolish.”

“Mm, see, you say that but I don’t see you trying to get away.” Tim wanted to strip him down entirely until every barrier between them had been discarded. He wanted to hold him so tightly that Damian couldn’t sense the distance between them. He wanted to make Damian feel so happy that he forgot how much Tim had hurt him, for a little while at least. He settled for hugging him closer, nuzzling his cheek and nipping his jaw. Liquid heat was seeping into his core, spreading from their points of contact in a viscous flow of want. “Dami. You feel amazing. Don’t wanna stop.”

“No.” Damian kissed him again, a little desperation bleeding into the pressure of his lips, the blunt pain of his nails digging into Tim’s skin through his clothes. “You aren’t allowed to stop. Finish what you’ve started.”

“Yeah.” Tim picked up the pace, the part of his mind that was always observing from the outside reminding him that Bruce was still sitting at that table and no doubt wondering where they’d both disappeared to. Damian pressed his face into Tim’s shoulder, breath coming out in labored sighs as their bodies slid together, the discomfort of their situation irrelevant in the face of their need. “C’mon, we gotta hurry.”

“I can do that,” Damian mumbled into his collar, sounding drunk. “If you don’t kill me like this first.”

Tim chuckled and kissed his ear. “No dying. Not till after I get you off, at least.” He angled on his toes and moaned as the pressure turned exactly right.  “Are you close?”

Damian nodded against his neck, whimpering. His grip tightened and loosened on Tim’s hips in the spasmodic fashion that always gave his approaching orgasm away. An overwhelming wave of fondness swamped Tim as he recognized the signs. “Here. Let me—" He unzipped Damian���s pants and pulled his cock free of his underwear just enough to duck and fit his mouth over the tip. 

Damian went immobile for a moment. His hands flew to Tim’s shoulders and seized them with painful pressure. Tim only had to wait a couple of seconds before come flooded his mouth. He swallowed fast and licked Damian clean while he twitched and made little noises of protest about the overstimulation.

Tim straightened again and efficiently put Damian’s cock away, pressing a last kiss to his mouth like a parent's final benediction to a band-aid. “Thank you,” he whispered against his lips, before adjusting his own erection to an angle better suited to public situations. “See you back out there.”

Damian said nothing for a second, clearly trying to catch up. Just before the door swung shut behind Tim, he heard, “Wait—"

In the restroom, Tim washed his hands and rinsed his mouth before popping a breath mint from the complimentary basket on the counter. His balls ached in protest, and he was dizzy from lack of blood making it to his head.

“Worth it,” he told his reflection with a grin, and headed back to the restaurant.

day 70 (part two) here