#i do personally love the possibilities of shipping them outside the band a bit more but these are classics for a reason

[margieargie]

Bokita vs. Nijiryo:

Kita: I'll take care of you. Bocchi: It's rotten work. Kita: Not to me. Not if it's you.

- - -

Nijika (to Ryo): It's rotten work. Especially to me, especially if it's you. I'll fucking do it but Christ alive.

[earlgreytea68]

hi egt

what fob songs scream hiatus to you?

i need to experience emotional ruin real quick

God, there are so many, like, basically allll of Save Rock and Roll feels like them working through the hiatus together (not least because of how it has a higher percentage of Patrick lyrics than usual, probably because of him coming off his solo work). But the hiatus loomed so large for them as this nuclear blast in their relationship, it seems to bleed all through Pete's words (and hence their songs) for years afterward.

And it actually even starts before the hiatus, with the "What a Catch, Donnie" music video, which is the most hiatus-y thing to ever hiatus, Pete going down with his ship while he sends everyone else away to party without him. IT'S ALL SO SYMBOLIC.

And then to title a song on the first Believers Never Die album "From Now On, We Are Enemies." WHAT THE HELL hahahahaha WHAT A CHOICE, PETE WENTZ. (a downward spiral, just a pirouette and I only what what I can't have -- wanting what you can't have is a total hiatus theme for me that shows up a bunch in Pete's lyrics. I have not done an empirical analysis to see if it's a more prevalent theme after the hiatus or not.)

"The Phoenix" has obvious symbolism for their life as a band, raising their career from the ashes, changing themselves up like a remix, wearing their vintage of misery better than everyone else. Also, I love the imagery it has of peace, the "release the doves, surrender love" bit. Waving the white flag and putting down your weapons (in contrast to put on your war paint). But I've always kind of felt like surrender love is one of Pete's deliberate ambiguities: It could be "surrender your love" but it could also be "surrender, love." And Pete doesn't often use "love" as a term of endearment in his lyrics but he called Patrick "love" on stage not too long ago, so, you know, it seems not too outside the realm of possibility to think that these are really lines about reconciliation. It feels like time is running out, so let's surrender and hold tight.

Then there's "Alone Together": I'm outside the door, invite me in so we can go back and play pretend. The image of playing pretend / make-believe with someone also recurs in Pete's poetry, and it's something else I always read as Patrick-coded. Who did he used to "pretend" with for the sake of the shippers? And, of course, starting at the end of the road to ruin sounds like people who have burned everything down but are finding their way back.

I wrote a whole fic about "Where Did the Party Go" :-)

What is there to say about "Miss Missing You" that hasn't already been said? The infamous "hot whiskey eyes" line that honestly can only be about Pete Wentz lol. The imagery of the person you'd take a bullet for being behind the trigger: they have both at separate points in time proclaimed their readiness to take a bullet for the other. The fact that Pete wrote in a poem once before the hiatus I miss you missing me, and this song is I miss missing you. Like, everyone just die over this song.

To me "The Kids Aren't Alright" is a hiatus song in that it's about surviving the hiatus, coming through it, reversing the curse, it's our time now if you want it to be, in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend.

"Fourth of July" is another hiatus song for me, the reference to the burned bridges being the light that leads you home is just so hiatus-y. Also, the torture of small talk with someone you used to love just smacks of the hiatus, of how they stopped talking to each other, of how they knew so little about each other and had to start over. This is more wanting what you can't have, too: my favorite what-if, my best I'll-never-know. I said I'd never miss you. I wish I'd known how much you loved me. It's so much, this song lol

Twin Skeleton's: ouch. This song is so painful. This song scrapes over your skin like sandpaper. This song is so angry and bitter. This song is I need a new partner in crime and you shrug. oh my GOD that line kills me every single time. That one and the way Patrick snarls, I could just die laughing on your spiral of shame. This is an angry song, but the anger is born of a depth of emotion and it ends with Patrick promising hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on over and over, and that's what makes it extra-hiatus to me, like, hold on, it all gets better, I'm coming back, hold on, hold on, hold on...

I find the hiatus infects their songs less and less the farther they get away from it, which is good. It's healing. As we've discussed, they've almost forgotten the whole thing even happened, it's been blurred over by the sands of time.

[nataliescatorccio]

What were your thoughts on s2 of shadow and bone?

i have very mixed feelings about it honestly! overall i enjoyed it, i thought it was a good adaptation, lots of nice moments between ships and a ton of plot to keep the audience hooked. there was a nice balance between comedy and seriousness (as this show does very well).

however, as a book fan, i do feel we missed out on things because there was simply so much within the season. i was definitely drawn more towards the crows and i do think the shadow and bone side of the plot fell a little short in comparison. because there was so much going on i felt like we didn't get as much set up with new characters as we needed, nikolai was good but to me he felt like a shadow of his book self who i adored so much, or development with our current characters (i'm just a tad bitter they ignored inej as a sexual assault survivor and killed her abuser off screen before she could get her closure and revenge). and i would have liked to see more non-romantic dynamics, i'm a sucker for the friendships throughout the books and those moments felt snatched.

ultimately i just think this season was a little bit of a victim to biting off more than it could chew. almost as if they were trying to pack everything possible in because they're scared of not getting a renewal (which i could understand why, but it is a shame). i absolutely adored the first four episodes, and then the last four started to fall flat for me. i think we needed more of alina instilling loyalty in both the grisha and people; in the books this was a big reason of why nikolai wanted to marry her, not just for her power but because people loved her. they wanted to follow her. losing that made her arc feel emptier for me. and i just didn't like the whole 'going off to find the sword' plot for the crows. while the fanservice in me was super pleased it gave me more alina/inej interactions, i actually think their plot would have been better had it been them coming together to break matthias out of hellgate. i personally would have preferred to see them banding together as their unit, rather than split up to fight alina's battle. i get that this is shadow and bone and therefore the writers wanted to integrate them with that storyline, but i also didn't find it particularly beneficial for both parties.

sorry anon, you probably weren't expecting such a long response! in summary i enjoyed it as a series, and i think that will grow more when i rewatch it over time. but i didn't experience the same enjoyment throughout the entire season and i do have some gripes with the end (setting it up for the ice court without inej there may find me outside the writers room with pitchforks).

[whats-her-quirk]

(with or without) my best intentions

pairing: tenya iida x fem!reader

rating: explicit (18+)

tags: office romance, coworkers to friends with benefits to lovers, quirkless modern AU, romcom vibes and cheesiness

warnings: stress and anxiety, alcohol, consensual drunk sex, public sex, wall sex (Tenya lifts reader), brief pregnancy scare, car sex, tit sucking, secret hookups, teasing, shoe dangling, lingerie, oral sex, pining, fluffy smut, one (1) use of ‘sir’ as a pet name, tenya says ‘good girl,’ a wedding but not ours, minor character ships

word count: 20k

a/n: it's finally here! This is my piece for the @mybigbangacademia

art from @kaexiao - coming soon!

♪ fuck and run - surfer blood

-

When Tenya is running, air hot in his lungs as he paces himself to his music, he feels weightless. He’s curated his playlists by beats per minute, the rhythmic tapping of his shoes against the pavement syncing up as he achieves cardio zen. When it’s just him and the road—he’ll use a treadmill in the winter, but he’s always preferred to run outside as much as possible—his mind tends to finally, blessedly, switch off.

He wipes a bead of sweat from under the bridge of his glasses as he turns back onto his street for the final stretch of his jog. The exercise is second nature at this point; he’s been running since he was a hyperactive little kid that his parents signed up for cross-country. His stamina and endurance are only improving with age and the magic of a decent weight-training regimen. For all intents and purposes, he’s hitting his late twenties right in stride.

So why now, when he’s in the best shape of his life, more comfortable with himself as a person than he’s ever been, and working his way up to middle management at the office, does Tenya feel like he’s being dragged into a black hole that’s trying to swallow him alive? Before, his morning run was enough to clear his head and get him through the day, and lifting and resistance bands at night would help stave off the twisting, anxious feelings again until he fell into bed, dead tired and lost to the world.

But the past few weeks, all he’s done is toss and turn, barely hitting REM sleep before his alarm is going off and he’s lacing up his tennis shoes to do it all over again. He can’t focus at work; he can’t relax at home. He’s never been this stressed out in his life, and he can’t seem to figure out why.

—

Izuku calls Tenya while he’s on his way to work. Tenya answers with the Bluetooth in his steering wheel, which he doesn’t particularly like to do because it takes a bit of his focus off the road. However, he knows that his friend is in a bit of a rough patch, and an ignored call might do more harm than good for both of them.

“Did you see?” Izuku asks with a sniffle and absolutely no context.

“See what?”

“They went Facebook official. That means it’s for real, for real.” Izuku groans, and Tenya hears something that sounds distinctly like his friend’s head hitting a table. That’s all the context Tenya needs.

Izuku has been Tenya’s best friend since middle school, and for almost as many years, he’s been in love with Uraraka. While he had tried a few different times to show her how he felt, he refused to come right out and confess, for fear of rejection. Now he’s paying the price—according to mutual friends, she’s been seeing Bakugou for nearly two months. Izuku has been an absolute wreck since he found out, and now, apparently, they’ve changed their status to ‘in a relationship.’

“I’m sorry, Midoriya. I know how much you care about her.” Tenya can’t think of anything more comforting to say as he turns into the parking deck of the office building.

“I feel like someone ripped my heart out of my body and stomped on it,” Izuku sighs. “And why did it have to be him?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” Tenya can imagine how much it stings, losing the person of your dreams to your sworn rival turned frenemy—as convoluted as it sounds. He wants to be sympathetic, really. But in all honesty, Izuku never made a move when he had the chance, so he should have seen something like this coming. She wasn’t bound to stay single forever.

Tenya pulls into his parking spot, right on time to be five minutes early. After reassuring his friend that he is not, in fact, ‘actually dying’ and promising to meet up after work, he’s able to get Izuku to end the call. With his briefcase in hand, he heads for the walkway that leads inside the building.

In the six years since Tenya started working at Plus Ultra, the company has grown and changed considerably, but one thing he can always count on. When he steps in the front door, Kaminari greets him brightly from the reception desk. “Hey there, handsome. Happy Monday!”

“Good morning.” Tenya knows not to take Kaminari’s flirtatiousness seriously—he talks to everyone like that, and it’s one of the reasons he makes such a good receptionist. In fact, his organization skills are so dismal at times, Tenya has to think his friendly, easygoing energy is the only thing keeping him employed.

Back when they were hired, Tenya and Kaminari were two of about twenty employees. Now the company employs nearly fifty people, plus freelancers. What was once a small startup selling cutting-edge exercise and physical therapy equipment to gyms and health centers around the country is now a leader in fitness product design and customized equipment distribution. While Tenya likes to think that it was his business degree and work portfolio that earned him his job, he’s fairly certain it didn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a health and fitness nut himself.

When Tenya looks up from wiping his feet on the rug, he notices he’s not the only one at reception. You’re bent over the front of Kaminari’s desk, your purse still slung across your body and your feet hovering off the floor and out of your shoes. You’re craning your neck to see Kaminari’s computer screen—why you didn’t just walk around the desk, Tenya couldn’t guess. All he knows is he has to force his eyes away from the slit in the back of your pencil skirt, for the sake of his dignity and yours.

He clears his throat before speaking your name, offering you a polite, “Good morning,” as well. While he’s not quite sure if he would call you a close friend, you’re certainly in his circle of ‘work friends.’ You haven’t been at the company as long as he has, but the two of you have worked together for years—you in marketing, him in the quality department.

“Hey, Iida.” You drop back to the floor, bare feet sliding back into your little pointed loafers. “Wanna come with us to lunch today? We’re gonna go to the deli, I think.” You motion to Kaminari with your hand as you extend the invitation.

Tenya adjusts his tie as he rounds the corner toward his department. “Sure, just send me a message on IM when you want to leave.” For better or worse, the office uses messaging software that’s equally as useful for sending quick notes that aren’t worth a full email as it is for sending memes from across the room.

It’s still early, so Tenya doesn’t run into anyone else on his way to his cubicle. He decides he’ll wait to grab a coffee before the weekly department meeting, opting to crack open his email first instead. After starting out as an account manager, working directly to meet client needs, Tenya was quickly transferred to quality assurance, where the work is more internal and process-driven. It’s his job to make sure that design, manufacturing, and sales are running as efficiently as possible. In practice, it’s mostly spreadsheets and data, but Tenya takes great pride in every improvement he’s been able to help coordinate. 

Coworkers trickle in, settling in their cubicles as Tenya works his way through several of the emails that he got over the weekend. He’s so focused on getting the simple inquiries taken care of that he doesn’t notice the time until Shouto appears in his doorway. “You coming?”

“Yep.” Leaving his email where it is, Tenya tucks a yellow legal pad under his arm and a pen in the pocket of his vest. He’d wear a blazer if it didn’t get so hot in the building during the summer. For the next few months, to keep from sweating through his shirts every day, he’ll stick with a vest and tie, rolling up his shirtsleeves when he wants to cool down.

At the doorway, Shouto hands him one of the two paper coffee cups he’s holding, and they head to the conference room. “Thanks, I was just about to get my own.” Tenya takes a long, blissful sip of his coffee—one cream, Shouto knows.

Shouto yawns, and Tenya notices the dark circle rimming his unscarred eye. “No problem. If you didn’t want it, I would have just drank both.”

“Long night?” Tenya asks, though he thinks he knows the answer.

“Long weekend,” Shouto sighs. “When I wasn’t fighting with my dad about the guest list, I was begging Hanta to help me choose the flowers, the napkins—anything. It’s like pulling teeth with him and I don’t know why.”

The two of them pass the rows of cubicles separated by low partitions until they reach the glass door of the conference room. Shouto slumps into a seat just inside the door, so Tenya sits beside him. “Maybe he’s just feeling overwhelmed with the wedding stuff. It seems like you both are.”

After eight years together, Shouto finally asked Hanta to marry him, and from Tenya’s point of view, his friend has been stressed out of his mind ever since. Hanta has always been so laid back, practically the opposite of Shouto. While Hanta’s generally aloof disposition probably doesn’t help matters, Tenya suspects more of the trouble has to do with Shouto’s family. The Todorokis are well-known in the area—Shouto’s father is a high-ranking government official, and his sister was recently elected to city council. One of his brothers is a professional athlete; the other was publicly disgraced in a hastily hushed scandal a few years back. Even with an estranged mother that has only recently come back into the picture, somehow Shouto has always been the black sheep of the family. And it sounds like his father sees this wedding as more of a publicity stunt than anything else. 

“Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to cover it,” says Shouto. “Sometimes I wish we could just elope and be done with it.”

“Why don’t you?” Tenya asks, flipping over to a fresh sheet of paper on his legal pad. Their coworkers filter into the room one by one, slowly filling the seats around them at the long conference table.

“My father would disown me faster than he did Touya.” Shouto polishes off his coffee with one long sip. “Plus, Hanta deserves a perfect day if he’s going to be stuck with me for the rest of his life.”

“Don’t say that,” Tenya scolds as gently as he can. “You’ve always been a good partner to him. Maybe you should just be honest about needing his help.”

Shouto shrugs as their boss, Sasaki, takes a seat at the head of the table. “Guess so.”

The quality department holds an all-hands meeting first thing on Monday mornings—a necessary evil that helps address the priorities for the week. As VP of the company and head of the quality department, Sasaki leads the meeting in his usual droll tone. He cracks a few jokes about last week’s audits that mostly fall flat to the tired, Monday energy in the room, but at least he tries. Just before the meeting wraps up, Toshinori, the company’s founder and CEO, pops his head in to say good morning and to wish the team a good week. “I’ll be leaving for a rock climbing trip with some potential investors on Thursday,” he says brightly, “so try not to have too much fun while I’m gone!”

Sasaki rubs his temples with the pads of his fingers. “I’ll be covering his duties in his absence, so if you need me Thursday or Friday, no you don’t. Ok, dismissed.”

Papers and laptops shuffle as people file out of the room, some eager and some reluctant to get on with the rest of their mornings. Shouto nudges Tenya’s elbow. “I’m gonna get another coffee. Want one?”

“I’ll come with you,” Tenya offers, but before he can follow Shouto out the door, Sasaki’s voice rings from across the room.

“Iida, could you stay back a minute?”

“Of course.” Tenya waves to Shouto as he makes his exit, then approaches Sasaki at the front of the room. While he’s worked fairly closely with Sasaki the past few years, their relationship is formal, professional perhaps to a fault. When his boss wants to chat, it usually means extra work for Tenya. He tries not to sound too apathetic. “Is there something wrong?”

Sasaki straightens his stack of papers and tucks multiple pens between his fingers before he answers. “Actually, no. Not this time, anyway.” Tenya cracks a smile at his dry humor. Sasaki merely clears his throat. “I won’t keep you in suspense. The company is growing, and as Toshinori takes on more of the public relations work I loathe, my workload is getting out of control.”

“How can I help?”

“I’ll be stepping away from leading the quality department, and we’re creating a Quality Manager role to take over those responsibilities. Would you like to be considered for the position?”

Tenya speaks before he thinks. “Yes, absolutely.” 

Sasaki nods. “Excellent. I’ll get back to you with more details soon, after we talk it over with a few other people.”

Tenya’s own words sit heavily in his own gut for the rest of the morning. The chance to move up in the company—that’s what everyone wants, right? He would be insane to turn down the opportunity for a promotion that probably comes with more perks and a bigger paycheck. He knows that. But even when he’s sitting in the deli down the street at lunch, picking at his salad, he can’t bring himself to be excited about the prospect of it.

“You ok, Iida? You’re white as a sheet.” Shaken—there he was, zoning out again—Tenya looks up from his hands to find your eyes on him, teasing but with a hint of genuine concern behind them.

Kaminari, his mouth full of sweet potato fries, points at Tenya with his fork. “You heard about the promotion, didn’t you?”

“What promotion?” Shouto tagged along for lunch, but he’s mostly been texting since you sat down. Tenya wasn’t sure he was even listening to the conversation.

“How do you know about that?” Tenya asks Kaminari, who leans dramatically over the table to answer while stealing one of Tenya’s fries.

“Honey, I am the eyes and ears of this place. If there’s something going on, I know about it.”

You shove Kaminari by the shoulder. “Shut up. You didn’t even know that Hatsume girl from IT asked Iida out until I told you, and everybody knew about that.”

“Please don’t remind me.” Even though it happened years ago, Tenya still cringes thinking about how loudly Hatsume had propositioned him, right after he had walked out of the bathroom, no less. To make things worse, he’d been so surprised he could only stammer out an uneven yes? that sounded like its own question. The date had gone horribly; he’s avoided calling IT for anything ever since.

“I didn’t mean personal stuff,” says Kaminari. “When it comes to business stuff, I hear what people are talking about. And Iida might be the new Quality Manager.”

Hearing the title again makes Tenya’s stomach flip, but he can’t stop from smiling when you grab his arm and squeal, “Really? That’s so exciting!” It’s stupid, but he thinks it’s really cute how energetic you are.

“Nice.” Shouto puts down his phone and taps his fist against Tenya’s shoulder in congratulations.

“Thank you both, but I don’t have the job yet.” Tenya fidgets with his silverware, aligning the fork and knife with his napkin and then his plate. There’s something he’s been wondering all afternoon. “Sasaki made it sound like they were considering others too. Kaminari, you wouldn’t happen to know…”

“Oh, I know. Or at least, I know of one. I was dropping off some mail and heard Sasaki talking to Monoma in his office. Frankly I don’t even think he’s trying to keep any of this a secret because the door was wide open.”

Tenya rolls his eyes. Of course he’s up against Monoma—that brown-noser.

“He hasn’t said anything to me. Guess that means I’m not in the running,” Shouto hums.

The color rushes out of Kaminari’s face. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Todoroki. I didn’t mean to—”

Shouto stops him and shrugs. “It’s fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t want all that responsibility anyway. I have enough to worry about.” Tenya could honestly say the same thing, but before he can comment, you touch his arm again and his mouth dries up.

“Don’t worry. Even though I honestly have no idea what you actually do all day, I know you work harder than just about everyone. No offense, Todoroki.”

Shouto’s absorbed in his phone again. “None taken. I work smarter, not harder.”

“Yeah Iida, lighten up!” Tenya can tell by his big, goofy grin that Kaminari doesn’t mean anything by it. He has no way of knowing how Tenya’s been trapped in his head recently, even before this promotion was thrown into the mix. Even if he’s always been a little high-strung, Tenya knows himself, and if he could relax, even a little bit, he would have done it a long time ago.

—

After waking up to more than a dozen missed texts from various times over the night, Tenya invites Midoriya to come to the gym with him before work. “We’ll get coffee after, my treat,” he tempts over the phone, and reluctantly, Midoriya agrees.

Tenya swings by Midoriya’s tailor shop to pick him up—apparently, he hadn’t gone home last night. His friend is mostly quiet on the way to the gym, heaving restless sighs out the window every few minutes. Frankly, he looks like a wreck, and he clearly hasn’t slept all night. If nothing else, Tenya hopes that a workout will tire Midoriya out enough that he can at least get a little rest.

They part ways after Tenya checks them in at the front desk. Midoriya heads for the lifting machines while Tenya goes up to the second floor to run on the indoor track. Earbuds in, he starts with some stretching, then sets off on a warm-up lap before picking up his speed. He’s groggy this morning, and three miles later, Tenya still doesn’t feel any more awake. He switches to the rowing machine for the last twenty minutes before he needs to get in the shower, but even when he’s pouring sweat, he never gets that rush of endorphins he’s looking for. He just feels tired.

After a brisk shower, Tenya towel dries his hair as best he can and gets changed into his work clothes. Midoriya is waiting on a bench near the entrance, and they walk to the cafe a few doors down where Tenya buys coffee, as promised, and croissants, as a bonus. But when it comes to comforting his friend, Tenya has no idea what to say.

It’s not at all that he doesn’t care. While Midoriya slowly opens up, lamenting his feelings for Uraraka and his regrets about not confessing to her sooner, Tenya listens and empathizes as best he can. It’s clear from his tearfulness that Midoriya needs to get his feelings off his chest, but Tenya can’t come up with any legitimate condolences beyond, “I see,” and, “I’m sorry.”

“I really love her, I’m sure of it,” says Midoriya. “But maybe deep down, the reason I waited so long was because I could tell she didn’t feel the same. I’ve just been putting off the inevitable.” With a sigh, he slowly seems to come to grips with his situation—that it’s been a long time coming. Tenya is glad he could help, but at the same time, seeing his best friend like this confirms that he’s doing the right thing by staying single right now.

Dating someone—even pining after someone—is too stressful for the state of mind he’s been stuck in. There’s too much to worry about when someone else is thrown in the mix. He can barely deal with himself right now. He doesn’t envy Shouto either—he’s in a long-term, committed relationship, and he’s still stressed out by it. So that settles it. Tenya will get out of this slump he’s in by going on the same way he has for the past two years: on his own.

–

The work day is a long one. Because of Toshinori’s absence at the end of the week, Tenya steps up to take some work off of Sasaki’s plate, including fixing some reports littered with egregious mistakes that are painstaking to find and correct. It’s a great chance to show off his work ethic in light of the promotion, but that doesn’t make it any less taxing on his already frazzled mind. By 4:30, he’s running on fumes, but then you arrive at his desk.

“Hey, Iida. Do you have plans tonight?” There’s a glint in your eye—this is more than small talk.

Tenya hesitates, but answers, “Not really. Why?” Maybe you just need a ride home, he thinks. Or maybe you want him to take a look at some marketing materials you’re working on. It’s happened before. He hopes it’s the former, but he’s wrong on both counts.

You rock back and forth on your feet, hands clasped casually behind your back. “Oh good. Then you can come to happy hour with us.”

Tenya adjusts his glasses, as if that would help ensure he heard you correctly. “On a Tuesday?” He draws the words out slowly before realizing that he sounds incredibly judgmental. “I don’t usually drink during the week,” he clarifies.

That makes you smile. “Somehow, I thought you might say that.” 

You stroll into his cubicle and lean on his desk. It’s the same way you were bent over the reception desk the day before, hips pushed back and elbows tucked into your sides. He’s sitting beside you, but he can imagine the way your skirt is riding up your legs. He wonders if you do this on purpose, if you want people to look, or if it’s completely subconscious. He clears his throat, ashamed of himself for thinking of you that way. It’s not only rude, but completely inappropriate for a coworker.

“We can tell you’re stressed about the promotion. Just come with us to the bar and put it out of your mind for a bit.” Tenya can hear the fibers of your pantyhose humming as you rub one leg against the other. It’s a sound he’s never registered before—well, not when it wasn’t his own rough hands dragging against someone else’s lace-covered thigh.

Tenya takes a sip from his water bottle to clear his husky throat before he replies. “Who is ‘we’?”

Fortunately, you stand up straight again, and he can get his head back on straight. “Me, Denki, Jirou, Shinsou. Todoroki says he’s gonna pick Sero up on the way. A few others might stop by for a while.”

Tenya rubs his temples. Though it’s not usually in his nature, he can’t deny that a drink sounds good after the day he’s had. And what could one or two Long Island iced teas hurt?

“All right. I’ll join you for a little while. I probably won’t stay too late though.” He means it when he says it. But after seeing you smile back at him, after splitting a cab and squeezing into a corner booth at the bar, after seeing Denki flirt with both Jirou and Shinsou, after watching Shouto kiss his fiance over and over again, after another cocktail, and another, and another—suddenly it’s eleven PM and Tenya doesn’t want to go home if he’s going to be all alone.

So because he can’t stand to watch the couples anymore, he turns his attention to you. You’ve taken off the little cap-sleeve jacket you were wearing at the office, baring your shoulders along with a neckline that’s just a little too low to be work-appropriate in the first place. When you lean forward over the table to take a sip from your straw or laugh at some ridiculous joke Denki made, your breasts are pushed up and together—a sight that makes Tenya’s mouth water. Your face warms with every half-price drink you order, your hair falling out of place, your smile a little looser as the night wears on.

He’s thought about you before. Of course he has. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re quick, witty, and unbelievably kind to others. Tenya rarely hears you talk about yourself. You always seem more interested in everybody else’s ideas, their successes, even their struggles. He’s fairly certain it was all your idea to get a group together to go out tonight—probably entirely for his own benefit. But surely you’d do the same for anybody. 

So what’s he thinking? While everyone else is talking and laughing and having a good time, why is he bothering to stare at you like he’s going to do anything about it? He’s known for months, maybe even years, that he doesn’t want to get involved with anybody. But fuck, what he really wants right now is a dark corner and a warm body. And if it should be anybody, his buzzed brain reasons, why not you—someone he actually likes?

No, he corrects himself. Dating is messy. Casual sex is messier. He doesn’t want that, and he needs to remember it. If he’s so damn horny, he can take care of himself after he gets a ride home, and that’s the end of it.

Minutes pass in a haze as he finishes another drink. Shouto bumps his shoulder every time he moves to put his arm around Hanta before he’s peeled away again, so Tenya stands up. He rolls his shoulders, the vinyl booth doing nothing to support his back that’s still a little sore from the rowing machine. He cracks his neck to one side and then the other, and when he looks up again, he finds you with your eyes locked on him.

Blinking hard, Tenya watches as you literally climb up onto your seat and then over the goddamn table to get to him while the others scream and laugh. He reaches a hand out as your ankle wobbles in your high heel, catching you when you stumble into his chest on your way back down to the floor. You laugh, and it makes him laugh.

“You wanna go help me get a round of shots?” you ask, words not exactly slurring but definitely starting to meld. He agrees, and through no will of his own, his palm creeps to your lower back as he follows you toward the bar.

You turn a corner, putting a wall between the two of you and your friends at the table. Tenya actually runs into you, but it’s because you stop walking to spin into him, bracing yourself on his chest and shoulders again. “I saw you looking at me,” you admit point-blank.

“I’m sorry.” The thought doesn’t occur to him to deny it. The way you’re leaning your weight into him presses your chest against him, and if he’s not careful, he’s going to get hard pretty quickly.

You shake your head. “Don’t be. Means I’ve been looking at you too.” Your hands climb his tie up to his throat. “Do you wanna kiss me?”

Heat rushes over him, and he takes you by the waist, pulling you closer. “I want to do far more than just kiss you right now.” He’s hardly gotten the words out before you wrap your arms around his neck and capture his lips with your own. 

He should stop you, the rational part of Tenya thinks, as he kisses you back. But he doesn’t want to stop. Kissing you lights up parts of his brain that have gone dark for months, maybe longer. Sweet dopamine bursts through the walls he’s built up inside, rushing to his head the same way a runner’s high used to. Now that he’s had a taste, he can’t help but want more.

His hands search for the perfect spot to hold you, sliding over your hips to cup your ass and press you tight against him. You push forward until he staggers, his back hitting the wall. You kiss until you’re breathless, stealing the air from his lungs, and then you insist, “Take me in the bathroom.”

He may not have dated in a while, but Tenya’s not a fool. He knows what moving to a secondary location means. Any of your coworkers could walk around the corner and catch you in the act right now. If you want to go further, you should find some privacy. With all the adrenaline driving him right now, he’s not going to deny you.

Tenya breaks from your lips to wrap his arm around your back. Ignoring a dirty look from the bartender, who must realize what’s about to happen, he leads you quickly down the hallway where the bathrooms are. He doesn’t even pay attention to which one he follows you into. As soon as the door is locked behind you, he pins you against it.

One hand holds your shoulder while the other cups your jaw, tilting your head up so he can kiss you again. Your lips are warm as you let his tongue slide past them, so soft but so firm. Tenya hasn’t kissed anyone in years, but he didn’t realize how much he missed it.

“Mmm, Tenya.” You hum into his mouth as your hand slides down his thigh, straying to his bulging crotch with a shiver. Your hands are so much smaller than his, but they feel so much better than his own ever could as you rub against his erection. You sigh as he kisses you harder, deeper. Do you even realize how wild you’re making him? How hard?

Tenya releases his grip to fumble with his belt. “Do you want to—”

“Yeah, I want you.” You don’t even let him finish, don’t even give him a second to get his zipper down before you do it yourself. Your fingers are shaking, but you moan in pleasure when your fingers dip under his waistband and pull out his cock. His breath hitches on a groan—everything is moving so quickly, but he doesn’t want it to end. You don’t waste any time—you just spit in your hand and spread it down his shaft with tight, even strokes. 

Something inside Tenya snaps. He forgot he could feel this good, completely forgot how satisfying sex can be when he really, really wants it—when he has someone to lose himself in. Fuck his conscience, and fuck his fears about getting in over his head. He lets his hips buck into your hold as his carnality takes over.

“Fuck,” he moans low, letting his forehead fall against the wall behind you. 

You laugh coyly. “Feel good?”

“Yes, God, yes.” This time, Tenya takes your face in both hands, stealing ravenous kisses as you wring the head of his cock in your fist. When he can’t wait any longer, he turns your head to the side and sucks a mark into the crook of your neck.

“You want me?” he asks again.

“Please.”

“I love the way you beg,” he growls. “Take your panties off.”

You do as you’re told, body shivering with delight as you peel a pair of light purple underwear down your legs before shoving them in his left pants pocket.

“You’re dirty,” he taunts.

“So are you,” you mewl, eyes traveling down to where he wraps his own hand around his cock, spreading precum over the head with his thumb.

“I think you like it.”

With his clean hand, Tenya hikes your tight little skirt up. With the wet one, he reaches between your legs as you spread them. You lean back against the wall to push your hips out, gasping when he grazes your clit before scissoring through your folds. He spends a few blissful minutes fingering you, swirling around your hole and then dipping inside with two fingers to make sure you’re slick enough to take him. He waits until you’re moaning brazenly, fingers scraping against the tile wall behind you, before he pulls them back out.

You collapse into him as he bends to grab under your thighs, lifts you, and wedges you between himself and the wall. His back and triceps are sore, but it’s nothing he can’t handle, especially not when you’re panting into his neck and begging, “Please, fuck me, fuck me, Tenya.”

He frees one hand to help line himself up, and it’s not the most graceful thing he’s ever done, but when you clench and whine as he pops the head of his cock inside you, he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. How could he forget how good this feels? How could he have denied himself for so long when your dripping pussy squeezing around him makes him forget everything but you?

Even with how slick you are, it takes him a few thrusts to bottom out while you claw at his back, whimpering. Clinging to him, you grind your hips down and clench.

Tenya swears, thrusting his hips for more friction. He fucks you like an animal, head empty except for how tight and hot you are inside and how badly he wants to cum. He’s sweating like mad, hair sticking to his forehead and his glasses fogging up, but he continues to chase after his peak, using you like he would a toy while you moan in his ear.

“Tenya, please.” You start to unwrap one arm from his neck, but when your weight shifts against the wall, you put it back.

“I got you,” he promises.

He holds you tight against the wall as you reach down to play with your clit. You clench harder around him until you cry out, and he grinds against the pulsing of your orgasm until it pulls him over the edge with you.

As he comes down, the tension in his screaming muscles releases. He leans into you, pinning your weight to the cool, tile wall. Spend leaks down your ass and thighs, wetting the front of his pants, but he doesn’t care. Tenya hasn’t felt this good in a long time.

In a haze, Tenya helps you down to your feet. He tries to help you clean up at the sink, but he’s not sure he really does anything helpful. All he knows is that every few minutes, he hears you sigh and giggle. When you’re both tucked back into your clothes, you each order your own cab, and you sneak out the back door to meet them. He makes sure you’re in your car safely before he gets into his.

When he falls into bed, Tenya has the most peaceful night of sleep he’s had in months.

–

When Tenya wakes up, his mouth is dry, his head is throbbing, and he can’t remember when or how he got home. He’s still fully dressed, down to his glasses and even his shoes, which is disgusting. He’ll have to wash the sheets as soon as he gets home tonight.

As his consciousness fades in alongside his pounding headache, Tenya tosses his glasses on the nightstand and rubs his palms over his face. He drank way too much last night, obviously. There’s no way his aching body can go for a run this morning—it’ll be challenging enough just to get himself to work. He sits up in bed, cracks his back, then feels something bunched in his pocket.

When he pulls out your lavender panties, he flops back down onto his pillow like he’s been shot dead.

Everything that happened rushes back to him at once—you climbing over the table, him pinning you against the wall. Between short waves of nausea, Tenya berates himself. That was a stupid, stupid thing to do, and he knows he’s going to pay for it.

Tenya has been in relationships, however short they might have been. He knows, generally, how to navigate those. He’s also had one night stands before. He can handle those too, always with grace and respect. What makes this time different is the fact that he hadn’t planned to sleep with you, had never partaken in sex so casually. Every time before, whether he was in a relationship or not, he had known sex was on the table, so to speak.

This is entirely new territory, and it rattles him.

To make matters worse, every time he pictures the way you looked or remembers a sound that you made, heat rises in his chest. You’d felt amazing, made him feel amazing, and now he’s not sure he’ll be able to forget it.

Tenya drags himself out of bed, groaning unintentionally at the tightness in his quads and lower back, and chugs two glasses of water while frying himself some eggs and potatoes. He knows if he doesn’t get some food in him, he’ll never make it through the day at work, and he doesn’t want to look bad in front of Sasaki, especially not now.

He surely hasn’t been himself lately, he thinks, dousing his eggs in hot sauce, but Tenya never thought he could do something so foolish. You’d both been consenting but under the influence, so where does that leave you? Fuck, he hadn’t even used a condom.

You hadn’t asked him to, and with how long it’s been since he slept with anyone else, he’s not at risk of giving you any diseases, but that doesn’t make it ok. As much as he dreads having to ask if you’re clean, he should probably also find out if you’re on some kind of birth control. He can feel the acid in his stomach burning just thinking about it, but he needs to face the consequences of his actions. Whatever you want to do about it, he’s fine with that.

When he finds his phone buried in his bedsheets, there’s a text from you.

If you want to talk about last night, you know where to find me. But I'm ok, and if you want to pretend it never happened, I understand.

He sighs and shoves his phone into his pocket. It’s selfless of you to offer to do that, but although it would probably be the easier way out, Tenya wouldn’t do that to you. Having sex with you hadn’t meant nothing—you didn’t mean nothing to him. He needs to face you and come clean. You deserve that.

Since his car is still at the office, Tenya has to call another cab to take him to work. After the commute that reignites his headache, Tenya gulps down a bottle of water from the vending machine and pulls himself together. All he wants is to sit down, but there’s only one way to his cubicle, and it’s past the front desk.

Kaminari’s chin is perched in his hands, a crooked smirk on his face. “Hey buddy, where’d you go last night?”

That’s right. The two of you left without saying goodbye or settling your tabs. He’ll have to go back to the bar to get his credit card. Somehow, after all the water he’s had this morning, Tenya’s mouth is still dry when he opens it to speak. He croaks, “I’m sorry, I was not in my right mind last night. I called a taxi without even thinking.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. 

You and Kaminari are close, but Tenya has no clue if this is something you would tell him. Apparently not, though, because he replies, “Did you go home with that bartender? I swear she had her eyes on you all night.” Unless Kaminari has a remarkable poker face, he doesn’t know anything.

Tenya starts to shake his head, but that hurts his eyes, so he just lifts a hand. “Nothing like that. Just wanted to get home and rest.”

Kaminari cackles. Maybe he’s one of those people that doesn’t get hangovers. Lucky. “All right, whatever you say, big guy. Hey, Todoroki has your watch. You took it off at the table for some reason.”

So he’ll have to make sure to catch up with Shouto at some point today and get it back. Thankfully, Shouto isn’t the type to ask questions, and he was preoccupied all night anyway. 

For most of the day, Tenya stays holed up at his desk. After a few cups of coffee and a lunch he ordered in (Kaminari is kind enough to bring it to his cubicle for him), Tenya’s hangover starts to fade, but he can’t shake the anxious feeling sitting in his gut all day. Shouto drops by with his watch but doesn’t stick around to chat, which is perfectly fine. Tenya doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, and he doesn’t want to chance running into you before he’s prepared himself, so he keeps to his spreadsheets and tries to make up for his slow morning.

Any time he gives himself a minute to think, Tenya’s mind wanders back to that dimly-lit restroom. He can’t help but wonder how something that felt so good in the moment can feel so horrible in hindsight. Not only is he ashamed, but he’s also embarrassed. He can only hope he hasn’t ruined his rapport—his friendship—with you.

Around 4:30, Tenya realizes he has about 50 unread IMs. He leaves his notification sounds off because he’s been told that they annoy people, so he hadn’t noticed all the messages coming in while he worked. Worried that something has gone terribly wrong, he opens his inbox in a panic.

What he finds is a barrage of images uploaded to a group chat by Kaminari, who declares that it is officially “meme-o’clock.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been bored enough to enact such an activity, and Tenya’s sure it won’t be the last.

While Kaminari has posted most of the memes, Shouto and Jirou have also contributed several deep-fried jpegs of their own. Shinsou chimes in with a single cat picture, but you’re noticeably absent until Tenya hovers over the emoji reactions. You’ve left several cry-laughing faces under the images, but they ring hollow. Normally, you’d be sending pictures to the chat too. Tenya starts to wonder if you’re really ok, like you’d said in your text.

Worry replacing awkwardness, Tenya picks up his phone and finally texts you back.

Do you want to meet me in the parking garage after work? I need to go back to the bar and get my card.

A few minutes later, you respond.

Sure, I need to do that too. Thanks, Iida.

After gathering up his stuff, Tenya finds you waiting by his car—leaning against it, legs crossed demurely at the ankles. You’re wearing a knee-length dress with a frilly collar that he would find adorable if he wasn’t so damn nervous. When you hear him coming toward you, you smile, and for some reason, that breaks his heart.

“Hey.”

Tenya takes a deep breath. “Hey. Do you still want to ride with me?”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes a bit. “‘Course. That’s why I’m here.” 

Tenya unlocks the car and ushers you into the passenger’s seat, waiting to close the door for you before walking around to climb in. He rolls his neck a little, feeling tension building between his shoulders, as he pulls out of the parking garage and heads toward the bar.

He doesn’t bother to connect his phone to Bluetooth or turn on the radio. It’s already too loud and chaotic inside his head, even though he can’t get himself to say anything. But then he hears you humming a little tune to yourself, and his stomach turns. He can’t put you through this any longer.

Tenya clears his throat. “Can we—” he hesitates, “talk about last night?”

You stop humming, folding your hands in your lap. “Yeah, of course. And, listen, I’m sorry if—”

“Please, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Tenya is careful to keep his eyes on the road, even as you’re nearing the city parking lot near the bar. Politely, even after he cut you off, you give him the space to speak.

“It’s no excuse, but I think you can tell I haven’t been myself lately. I’ve been stressed, and I was drunk, and I took advantage of you. I’m incredibly sorry.”

You practically dive over the center console to touch his arm, an action that shouldn’t make the back of Tenya’s neck prickle, but it does. “No, no. I promise you didn’t take advantage of me. If I had wanted to leave, I would have left.”

Tenya clears his throat, your sincerity and the warmth of your touch surprising him before, strangely, he feels some of his anxiety begin to melt away. “Ok. If you say so.” He doesn’t think about it, but while he waits to make a left turn into the parking lot, his hand floats up to brush over yours until he finds a parking spot to pull into.

He shuts off the car, but Tenya knows this isn’t over with yet. “I still need to apologize for not using protection. Do you need—”

“Oh, no. I’m on birth control, so I’m not really worried about that.”

Relieved, Tenya exhales harder than he means to. 

Your nervous laugh puts him a little more at ease. “Thanks for asking, though. I also got myself tested after my last partner, so I’m clean and everything…”

Tenya can feel his face burning, but he reminds himself that it’s healthy and mature to talk to his partners about such things. Still, he rubs his eyes under his glasses, exhausted by all his worries. “Thank you. I am as well, though it’s been a long time since my last partner.”

“...Really?”

“I—yes?” He didn’t expect you to ask questions. Then you ask another.

“How long?”

Tenya hasn’t really thought about the actual number recently. He counts backwards, and it surprises him. “Two years, maybe two and a half?” He can’t remember exactly what month it was, but he’s pretty sure it was wintertime.

You fall back in your seat with a little snort. Tenya raises an eyebrow. “What?”

There’s that laugh of yours again. “Well, no wonder you’re so stressed.”

“It’s not…I’m just—” Tenya huffs, unable to complete a coherent thought. He hadn’t looked at it this way, but now that you bring it up, his fist has been a sorry comparison to another person for some time now. He’s just been willing to accept that.

Coyly, you bite your lip. “Can I ask…did you enjoy it, at least?”

“God, yes.” Tenya chuckles along with you at his own bluntness, running his hand through his hair as he looks out the windshield.

“Ok, good. Because I did too. You were so hot, Iida.”

Memories of the sights, the sounds, the sensations of your hookup come back to him in flashes, so vivid he can’t look at you. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t typically have one-night stands, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

Tenya’s heart halts, bracing for an impact that never comes, like when he thinks there’s one more step on the staircase. He expects you to be upset—sad, or angry, even—but your voice is soft instead. 

“Well, listen. It’s ok if it’s not your thing. But since we both liked it, we could do it again sometime. Casually, I mean. No strings attached.”

Oh.

“So, you mean like friends with benefits?” This was an option Tenya had never even considered. Historically, casual sex is not his thing, but maybe you’re onto something.

“Yeah. Just sex. Because—and I swear—last night was one of the best hookups I’ve ever had. Like, probably top three fucks ever.”

That makes Tenya laugh out loud. It’s not that he thought he was bad at sex, quite the opposite actually. But he wouldn’t have said it that way, and coming from you…

“I’m serious, Iida,” you say after a giggle. “It was great. And I trust you. So if you want to keep having sex, especially if it helps you manage all that stress you’re under, I’m down.”

“I—”

He’s tempted to say no, to go back to just being friends and coworkers, but when he opens his mouth again, he finds he doesn’t want to. It’s one of the crazier things he’s ever done, but…

“I trust you too. But maybe we can start on some kind of trial basis. This is very new to me.”

You smile and knock him on the shoulder like this is the most normal conversation in the world. Maybe it is.

“How about this: the next time you want to let off some steam, just let me know.”

Tenya nods, then realizes he’s been wearing his seatbelt this entire time. He clicks the release button as he pulls his keys from the ignition. He can do this—he can handle casual. Maybe he’ll even be better off for it.

“Deal.”

–

Despite your new arrangement, almost a week passes without incident. Tenya continues helping Sasaki with his audits. Together, they discover a particular issue with the resistance bands that their plant has been manufacturing. Tenya spends a full day poring over the data until he comes up with better testing standards to help ensure that faulty merchandise isn’t shipped out to customers. It’s what he would have done regardless, even if the promotion weren’t on the table. 

When Toshinori returns from his trip, looking more bronzed and sporting a splint on a broken index finger, Sasaki calls a meeting to go over Tenya’s proposal. A small group meets in the conference room—along with a few others from quality, there are reps from customer service who have been handling most of the complaints, and Monoma, the sales rep.

For a few months of the year, Monoma is largely out of the office, traveling to trade shows and visiting customers and distributors nationwide to tout the wonders of Plus Ultra equipment. And it’s not that he’s not good at his job—he brings in a lot of clients with a lot of money to spend. But for the rest of the year, Monoma spends his time, as far as Tenya can tell, making a couple phone calls per day before slacking off while everyone else is hard at work. 

Maybe he’s biased, but Tenya has never liked sales reps.

Seated around the conference table, Sasaki starts them off by explaining the manufacturing issues they ran into. The customer service lead, Kendo, explains how the complaints came in and what her team did to placate the upset customers.

Toshinori gives Kendo a big thumbs up. “Thanks for all the hard work. It really matters that we keep our customers happy, even when things like this happen.” He’s not really a detail-oriented guy—he just likes to know what’s going on.

“Of course,” Monoma pipes up, “after customer service brought this issue to our attention, we took all of the customer information and used it to pinpoint the lot number of the defective batch of bands.”

Tenya sighs from behind his laptop. Everything Monoma is saying is correct, factually. But the way he’s using ‘we’ makes it sound like he played a bigger role in that process when all he did was email Tenya a list of customer info. It was Tenya and Sasaki who dug through the data, found the lot number, and got the rest of the defective product pulled from the warehouse before it got shipped out.

With a hand placed thoughtfully on his strong chin, Toshinori listens as Monoma talks, and talks, and talks—name dropping the bigger clients that he called personally to explain the situation. With as much patience as he can muster, Tenya waits for his turn to speak with his proposal slideshow open.

“Of course, while I was hunting all these guys down—you know how they are, they’re hardly ever in the office, a little like you, Mr. Yagi—”

“Please, I insist you call me Toshinori.”

“Right, Toshinori,” Monoma shmoozes. “Well, meanwhile, we can assure you we have a plan to keep this from happening again.” He glances over at Sasaki, who is tapping away on his keyboard, no doubt still paying attention to every word like the expert multitasker he is.

Tenya opens his mouth to speak, but Monoma’s lips don’t stop moving. “We think something like this can be caught by testing the next time it happens if we tighten up tolerances a bit. For example…”

He goes on to explain, in a roundabout way, everything in Tenya’s proposal without so much as a pause for Tenya to get a word in edgewise.

Tenya knows this meeting isn’t about him, that they’re just here to catch Toshinori up to speed and get his final stamp of approval. But especially when he’s getting some of the details only partially correct, it’s frustrating to sit there and listen to Monoma speak just because he loves the sound of his own voice.

And while Tenya is sure that Monoma is just trying to show off in front of Toshinori because of the promotion, he also doesn’t want to butt in for the same reason. At this point, it’ll just make Tenya look like he’s trying to spotlight himself. He’ll just have to keep his mouth shut, knowing that Sasaki is aware that the proposal was really all Tenya’s idea.

Sasaki, Tenya thinks almost bitterly, who is just sitting there, letting Monoma talk over him.

It’s fine, Tenya tells himself. It’s fine, and it doesn’t really matter. And he could have maybe left the meeting believing that if Monoma didn’t look him directly in the face when he asks, “Any questions?”

That bastard. That bitch. He wouldn’t normally be so vulgar, even inside his own head, but fuck, this time he’s really pissed. For as long as he’s worked here, Monoma has always been like this—stepping on toes just because he can, and unbelievably smug about it. And Tenya is officially getting sick of it.

Tenya glares back. “No,” he replies in a calculated tone. “No, I don’t think I have anything to add right now.”

If Sasaki notices his ire, he doesn’t do anything about it. Toshinori, on the other hand, appears blissfully unaware, just happy that the problem was solved even in his absence.

When the meeting ends, Tenya is the first one out of the room, his laptop folded closed under his arm. Vaguely, he hears Monoma calling for him, asking if he wants to join everyone for lunch, but he doesn’t stop until he gets to his cubicle. Nobody follows him.

For a while, Tenya just sits there, seething. He gets his lunch out of his mini-fridge, but he’s too annoyed to eat much of it. Instead, he stares daggers down into his salad, stabbing each bite he takes a little too forcefully. He tries to let it go, to forget what just happened because regardless, this should fix the manufacturing problem. That’s what matters. But Monoma’s words keep replaying on an infuriating loop in his head.

So screw that. He wants to go home. No, actually—he wants his blood pumping and his muscles straining and sweat pouring down his back until his mind finally shuts off and the frustration melts away. But he wasn’t planning on going to the gym tonight, so he doesn’t have clothes to change into for a run right now.

Tenya huffs and drops his fork on his desk. He remembers what you said in the car—to let you know the next time he’s stressed out. So he shuts his laptop and shoves his half-eaten salad back in the fridge.

Heads turn when Tenya strides into the marketing department. He doesn’t spend much time in this part of the office. Your work doesn’t overlap with his often. But he doesn’t want to leave any kind of paper trail, so instead of sending you a message, he walks straight up to your desk. 

You’re flipping through files in a folder before you look up to greet him. “Hey, Iida.”

After glancing over his shoulder, he drops a heavy hand on your desk and leans down to speak into your ear, his jaw set tight. “My car. Now.”

You spin in your swivel chair to face him, eyes narrowing when you meet his gaze. Tenya raises an eyebrow, asking if you understand. Slowly, you uncross your legs, and it takes all the restraint he has not to bite a hole through his lower lip.

“Go first. I’ll meet you.”

He nods, then makes a beeline for the parking garage.

His mind races. Is this how he was supposed to go about it? For about half a minute, while he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for you to appear, he almost loses his nerve and calls the whole thing off. But goddamnit, he’s pissed, and he wants to forget, just for a few minutes until he can relax. And you look so good today, so soft to the touch in your flowy little blouse.

Now’s not the time to overthink it. He said he wanted a trial run, and here’s his chance.

You arrive with your purse thrown over your shoulder, heels clacking on the concrete floor until you slide into the seat next to him. Once your bag is placed by your feet, you ask, “Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

Tenya loosens his tie. “Not really.”

“That’s ok. We can just have fun, then.”

You kick your shoes off and push the center armrest back. Tenya plants his feet on the floor, and you crawl into his lap, letting your skirt ride high up on your legs. Impatiently, craving the piece of heaven he found the last time he was with you, Tenya wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him for a kiss.

As your mouths move together, Tenya is keenly aware that you’re still, for all intents and purposes, in public. His parking spot is along the outside wall of the parking garage, one level up from the walkway that leads inside the business complex, which should minimize the amount of foot traffic that might pass. Still, the possibility that someone could walk by isn’t exactly remote. But like at the bar, Tenya is surprised to find that he’s not completely opposed to the idea—to the thrilling fantasy that you could be caught.

At least you’re not still inside the office, he rationalizes. How much real trouble could you actually get into? Office relationships aren’t forbidden. And there are worse ways to spend your lunch break—hacking accounts, stealing tape from the supply closet. Fooling around in the car isn’t hurting anyone. In fact, it actually decreases the likelihood of him personally strangling Monoma. From a certain point of view, this is actually the safer choice.

Tenya forgets all his justifications the moment you bury your hand in his hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp before you pull at the longer part of his undercut. It forces him to tilt his chin up as you push deeper into the kiss. And when your mouth breaks from his and drags down to his jaw, teasing against his ear, he forgets everything except for you.

Your kisses are light against the side of his throat, careful as though not to leave a mark. They’re slow and wet, your tongue peeking out to taste him with each kiss. When you take his earlobe between your teeth, he can’t help but moan, fingers curling into your waist.

“Fuck, you sound so hot when you do that.” Your lower back arches, your knee knocking against the door as you spread yourself lower, wider over his lap. It drives him crazy, the way you move so easily with him, your body slotting into all the places he needs you most.

Tenya wants to rip your blouse open, but he restrains himself, knowing you’ll still need to wear it back inside. He fumbles with the first few buttons, trying to get it off you, before you realize he needs help. Together, you undo them all, revealing the lacy white bra you’re wearing underneath.

With all his caution thrown to the wind, Tenya palms one of your breasts, pressing it up against his mouth as he kisses your cleavage. You hum for him, reaching behind you to brace yourself against his knee with your other arm slung over his shoulder.

Your breasts feel amazing. He didn’t really get to play with them last time—he was too busy holding you up against the wall. Now, he can knead them with both hands, lifting them up and pressing his thumbs between them until they pop out of the cups of your bra.

Your gasp is delectable when he takes one nipple into his mouth, groaning as he sucks around it. He opens his mouth wider, desperate to take more, tongue lapping at the bud. He can’t get enough.

Meanwhile, he tenderly squeezes your other breast, obsessed with the way it squishes like he’s pressing into soft dough. He looks up at you over his glasses, watching your brows knit together as he drinks you in. Then he does the same to your other breast, giving them equal attention.

Tenya can feel your pulse quickening through your sternum, syllables of his name falling from your lips along with panting breaths. You sound so good, he loves hearing you. “Tell me what you want,” he mumbles, unbuttoning his vest and then starting on his dress shirt.

Your hand drifts down to touch his exposed chest.

“You, I want you.” Your hips grind down against his straining erection as you whine for him. 

Tenya sucks air through his teeth, grabbing for his wallet in the cupholder and pulling out the condom he’s had tucked inside for a few days. He holds the corner of the packet between his teeth while he pulls his cock out of the dark blue slacks he pushes down to his knees. You moan when you see it, giving him a flash of pride before you take the condom and roll it on for him.

“You’re so big.” He’s known that for a long time—that his size is impressive to most—but he loves hearing it, the way it tumbles from your lips like you can’t believe it’s all for you.

He sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva before pushing your panties to the side and rubbing them over your cunt. Your head falls back, breasts bouncing while he plays with your hole, spreading spit and slick around it.

With both hands on his shoulders, you position yourself above him. “Fuck, fuck me.”

If you keep begging like that, he’s going to lose his damn mind.

Tenya holds his cock steady at the base while you sink down onto him with a gorgeous whine. He watches himself enter you, watches as you take his thick cock like you’re made for it. The ridge of the condom catches the slick that leaks out of you, leaving a creamy ring behind when you start to bounce up and down on your knees.

Tenya guides you, lifting his hips when he can to thrust with you. It feels too good—suddenly, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

“God, so tight. Oh my god.” You clench when he calls your name, his voice strangled like your hand’s around his throat. Huffing and moaning, he holds you up while you ride him with impressive stamina.

Sweat beads on your forehead and your chest, collecting in the notch of your throat. You’re persistent, your movements actually speeding up while your walls cling to his cock with every thrust. You’re like an animal, blindly chasing your own pleasure while still giving him so much.

He can tell when you finish by the way you gasp and squeal, writhing like you’re trying to stay sunk down on top of him while you pulse. Watching your body tremor pulls Tenya over the edge with you, his hips lifting as he climaxes before falling back onto the headrest. You fold over against his chest, just trying to catch your breath as you come down.

The driver’s side window is foggy, your naked upper body slippery against him. He’s still inside you, your face buried in his neck. You rest the weight of your tired body against him fully, even as he sits up to start up the air conditioning so you can both cool down. Once the sheen of sweat between you is mostly dry, Tenya reclines his seat all the way back and helps you climb out of his lap.

Last time, all you needed to do was get yourselves together enough to sneak out of the bar and get home. Now, Tenya realizes, he has to walk back into the office as if he didn’t just fuck you in his car. Granted, the condom was a good idea—it takes care of a large percentage of the mess you made, but he’s still sweaty and disheveled after disposing of it wrapped in a wad of napkins from the glove compartment.

You give each other a good once-over outside the car, making sure all buttons are done up right and everything’s tucked back where it’s supposed to be. He lets you fix his hair for him, shaking out his bangs with your fingers before fixing them back in place across his forehead. He intends to walk you back inside, but you stop him just outside the glass walkway with a glance over your shoulder.

“Give me a little head start,” you tease. Your giggle is equal parts adorable and sensual as you strut away.

Tenya stares after you, your legs, your tight skirt, until you disappear through the double doors at the end of the corridor.

He can give you a head start. He’d give you just about anything you want at this point.

–

From that day on, hooking up with you becomes more and more frequent. Tenya tries not to wear out his welcome too quickly, but the more he has sex with you, the more he craves it. Once per week quickly becomes three or four times, sometimes in the car, sometimes in whatever empty room or closet you can find when the opportunity arises. You let him do so many different things to you, content to let him take the lead and call the shots.

It’s almost Pavlovian, the way he finds himself set on the path from his desk to yours after a stressful meeting or phone call—even just too many hours looking at spreadsheets can make him itch for you. 

As much as he loves your legs wrapped around his waist while he plunges inside you, Tenya learns he has much more of an oral fixation than he ever realized. When he’s frustrated, he needs his mouth on you. He’ll eat you out or suck at your breasts while you bounce in his lap, and before he knows it, he’s forgotten whatever it was that was causing so much tension in the first place, soothed by the weight of you on his tongue.

There aren’t many rules in your arrangement, but after the third or fourth time you turn down Tenya’s offers to cook you dinner, you set an important one.

“I really appreciate the thought, but in the interest of keeping this casual, let’s not hook up at your house or mine.”

“It’s just dinner,” Tenya reasons. “I would never expect you to sleep with me in return. We wouldn’t have to.”

“I know you wouldn’t. But I know myself, and it would be hard for me to be in your house with you, alone at night, and not want to have sex with you.”

“I…” Tenya rubs at the back of his undercut. He should probably get it trimmed soon. “I’m not pressuring you, but why—”

“Because if I start waking up in your bed, it’s only a matter of time before one of us catches feelings. And you said you didn’t want that, right?”

Tenya hesitates for half a beat, but, “Yes, you’re right.”

“So no sleepovers. But thank you again for offering, Tenya.”

“Of course.”

The other rules remain largely unspoken. You always wait for him to initiate, and at first, this concerned him. If you weren’t interested in doing this—if you’d changed your mind—he needed to know, and he told you as much. He’d been surprised at the heat that pooled in his stomach when you laughed and replied, sincerely, that you liked it that way. That you liked when he took you, ravished you. That it turned you on to be used that way. It was as much for you as it was for him.

Tenya would never forget the salacious grin on your painted lips when you told him so. It made you that much more attractive, this insane sex drive you seemed to have. A few weeks ago, he never would have thought that you were so insatiable. How wrong he’d been.

As time goes on, however, you start finding ways to tease him, daring him to make the first move.

It’s been nearly two months when Tenya notices you dressing differently. Your skirts get tighter, and you never swap them out for dress pants, even when September begins to cool off the sweltering summer heat. You almost always opt for blouses with buttons or in fabrics that stretch—the easier to take off and put on, the better.

You also start to have a little more fun with your accessories, including your underwear. Every once in a while, Tenya will mumble a little comment about them—”these new?” or “haven’t seen this one before”—and he can tell by your smile that you love it.

One afternoon, Sasaki calls a meeting about a new product launch, and Tenya finds himself seated next to you at the conference table. With close to a dozen people in the room, it’s easy to watch you, unnoticed, even when he should be focusing on the presentation. Instead, Tenya’s eyes drift up and down your legs, counting the beats as you bounce one knee over the other.

You push your chair back from the table, hands crossed in your lap as you appear to listen about the wonders of kettlebell gloves. Maybe you are listening—you’re a decent multitasker—but Tenya is positive you know what you’re doing to him when you slide one foot out of your little black pumps. By curling your toes, you tap your shoe against your heel, and it should not be sexy, should not be turning Tenya on, but it does. Your bare ankle looks so delicate as your shoe dangles from your toe, reminding him of how quickly you could be undressed.

The meeting can’t end soon enough.

As soon as he can get you alone, Tenya is crowding you against the copier. He runs his hands over your hips, riding over your curves. “Have you always dressed like this for attention? Or is it just for me?”

You push your ass back against him. “What’s gotten into you?” you giggle, acting as if you don’t know.

“Supply closet?” he asks in response. If it were anyone else, he’d be self conscious about being too direct. But it’s you, and he’s learning not to think twice.

It’s nearly 4pm—some people have even gone home by this point. There’s no one around to see you dragging him by the tie into the closet and shutting the door behind you.

Tenya drops to his knees, kissing your thighs as you turn on the overhead light. His nose teases at the hem of your skirt, pushing it up as his hands slide up the backs of your legs. “Someone might see the light under the door,” he mumbles, almost whispering.

You hum appreciatively. “I think you’re going to wanna see these.”

“See what?”

Leaning back against the built in shelf, you push your hips forward. “Keep going.”

Clammy palms push your skirt up over your hips. Tenya continues his ascent up your inner thigh, pushing your legs further apart to make room. He finds his surprise at the apex.

Your red lace panties have no crotch. Instead, draped over the middle, is a string of faux pearls. They’re beautiful, nestled against your folds, and they’re already wet.

As he stares in awe, Tenya stupidly comments, “Those can’t be comfortable to sit around in.”

You stifle a laugh. “They’re not as bad as you’d think.” You lift one foot out of your shoe and place it on his shoulder, lewdly spreading yourself for him. “Wanna taste ‘em?”

Tenya turns his head, kissing the ball of your ankle before pulling your leg down over his shoulder. “Dying to.”

His mouth slots between your thighs—trembling, if he’s not mistaken—with a warm sigh of relief. After leaving wet kisses over your clothed clit, Tenya tilts his head back and lets his tongue jut out, licking a stripe over the pearls. The little beads taste like plastic and you, like treasures for him to find and retrieve, soaked in your essence. He works at them with his tongue, playing with them until he loses his grip and then starts all over again, slurping you up as he goes.

Your hips buck when he hits a sensitive spot, when he pushes the pearls deeper into your folds with his tongue. He feels you twitch when he nudges one almost inside your hole before sucking as much of you into his mouth at once as he can. You hum on a moan, trying to keep quiet, fingers twisted tight in his hair.

Tenya comes up panting, his face covered in you. “Do you want to come like this?”

With your back pressed up against a shelf of printer paper, you bite your lip hard and nod yes.

Tenya pulls you down firmly on his shoulder, getting you right where he wants you, before pushing two fingers up inside your panties to tweak at your clit. He rolls the little bud between his thumb and forefinger, licking against your slit where the pearls are held taut until he hears you squeak and feels the little gush against his face.

While you shiver in the aftershocks, Tenya licks his lips then wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. Carefully, he pulls you off his shoulder and stands up, undoing his belt on the way. His heartbeat pounds in his throat while he struggles with the condom. Once it’s on, he slips inside you, one of your thighs held to his hip, the string of pearls brushing his cock with every thrust until he comes undone.

Then, like every time, you clean yourselves up and walk away like nothing ever happened, and Tenya’s heart breaks a little more.

-

After months of wallowing, Midoriya finally starts to act like himself again. He joins Tenya at the gym more often and even comes jogging in the morning a few times. Some evenings, Tenya cooks dinner for both of them, knowing his friend is hopeless in the kitchen and has more or less been surviving off of Cup Noodles since mid-summer. Tenya doesn’t mind it—he likes to cook, and it’s nice to have the company a few nights per week.

Tonight, after they finish the salmon he made, he’s standing on a stool in his bedroom while Midoriya measures the inseam of his tux pants for Todoroki’s wedding. Tenya had to order his a size up to make room for his thick thighs, and he needs them tailored.

“Are you going to ask her to be your date?” Midoriya asks just as he presses his tape measure to Tenya’s crotch. He doesn’t have to clarify who he means.

“No.” Tenya focuses intently on not getting hard at the thought of you. It’s pathetic that a simple thought or mention of you is sometimes all it takes, but he cannot embarrass himself with Midoriya between his legs right now.

“I told you, it’s only casual. We’re not together, and besides, they already invited her anyway.”

Midoriya shrugs. “But you like her, don’t you?”

“I… It’s purely physical.” He hasn’t shared every dirty detail with Midoriya, but since he’s never met you, Tenya felt safe telling him about your arrangement.

“So how are you going to feel if she shows up with somebody else?”

“She’s not—”

Midoriya grabs a few pins from the cushion around his wrist, holding them in his mouth while he crouches to pin Tenya’s hem. “But are you sure?”

Now that Tenya thinks about it, he’s not. Just because he hasn’t been seeing anyone else, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t be.

“All I’m saying,” Midoriya mumbles around his pins, “is that you shouldn’t wait around too long if you want something more.”

Tenya has to admit that he might have a point. Maybe he’s not cut out for casual after all, despite how good it’s been so far. He spends more time thinking about you than he cares to admit—and it’s not always sexual. He wishes he could spend more time with you outside of work too. 

Sometimes, during his morning runs, he imagines what it would be like if you were beside him. But he doesn’t even know if you like jogging.

He doesn’t want to talk about it right now.

“Wow, Midoriya. That really means a lot, coming from you. And you’re aware that Bakugou will more than likely be there with Uraraka?”

Midoriya snorts. “God, I hope Todoroki doesn’t seat me with them. But regardless, I’m still going stag to the wedding. I don’t even know anyone to ask. Now hold still so I can get the other leg even,” he says, reaching for his measuring tape again.

While Midoriya finishes pinning, Tenya considers all his options. He was planning on attending the wedding without a date—he figured he’d just see you, Midoriya, and everyone else from work there. He supposes he could ask you to be his date as a friend, but what would be the point?

To make sure you’re not going with someone else, he guesses.

With the wedding only a few weeks away, he’s going to need to figure out what to do about it—if anything—and soon. Maybe he can bring it up casually in conversation, but he’s not sure he has the nerve. Between finding out you’re going with someone else or asking you out himself, Tenya’s not sure which one he’s more afraid of.

-

This doesn’t count, Tenya tells himself. When Sero shows up at the end of the workday, off early from the tattoo shop, and invites everyone to join him and Todoroki for dinner, it doesn’t count as having dinner with you. There’s nothing in the rules about going out in a group together.

Careful to keep himself in check, Tenya only has two beers with his burger. It may have worked out in his favor last time, but he doesn’t plan on getting wasted this time. You seat yourself easily by his side, your arm brushing his as you finish off a cocktail with your dinner.

For the first time, Tenya really wonders if anyone else around the table can tell that there’s something else going on between the two of you. He’s usually as careful as he can be, trying not to show you any special attention. But even just sitting next to you, listening to you talk and laugh with your friends, is distracting.

Then, while you’re laughing at something Denki says, your hand falls to Tenya’s knee. It seems like you don’t even notice that you’re doing it, the gesture warm and familiar, like you’d done it a thousand times. Tenya’s neck gets hot, and he can’t think about anything but the weight of your hand on his leg.

“Iida.”

Tenya jumps when Sero calls his name, and you pull your hand away, jolted back to reality. “Hm?” He hasn’t been listening at all.

“I asked if they’ve given you that promotion yet. I wanna know when you’re gonna be Shouto’s boss so I can tease him about it.” Sero’s arm is wrapped around Todoroki’s shoulders, his signature grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. Todoroki hardly reacts except to blow a strand of hair out of his face.

Tenya clears his throat. “They haven’t mentioned it in a while. Toshinori is hardly in the office, so I suspect that’s slowing down the process.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Denki leans forward so he can catch Tenya’s eye over the table. “I was sorting the mail and I heard Sasaki talking to David Shield from R&D. They were going over some financial mumbo jumbo and I heard him say they need to make some hiring decisions this month before they can approve his research budget for next year.”

This time, when you squeeze Tenya’s arm, you don’t try to hide it. You have a good reason not to. “So you’ll know this month whether you’re moving up or not. That’s exciting!”

Although he’s been fucking you for months, Tenya still blushes at your touch, especially while his friends are looking. This is what you do to him. He mutters, “Thank you. I’ll just be glad when this whole thing is over and I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Your hand falls away from him as you reply. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Something in your voice changes—you sound almost disappointed, giving Tenya a pang in the heart. 

“There’s no way they’ll choose Monoma,” says Todoroki. “He’s a dickhead.”

Sero gulps down the rest of his drink, his forehead creasing with a frown. “Is this that guy who stole your yogurt out of the fridge?”

“I can’t prove it, but I think so.”

“If I ever get my hands on him…”

“You guys wanna hear something crazy?” Denki chimes in. “I put red pepper flakes in my leftover takeout to see who’s been stealing it from the fridge, and at lunch, I caught Shinsou coughing and buying a milk from the vending machine. I trusted him!”

While Denki retells the loss of his chance with Shinsou that may have opened another door with Jirou, Tenya’s attention falls back to you. You’ve gone quiet, which is strange, considering how excited you were. Did his reaction upset you? Was it not what you were looking for? He can’t quite discern what he’s done wrong, but he felt the twinge of sadness when you pulled away from him.

He lets himself look at you—really look at you—while you pointedly look away. He’s dying to get you away from this table, to somewhere you can talk, but he can’t think of an excuse. So instead, while nobody is paying attention, he reaches for the strap of your dress, which has fallen down your shoulder. He lets his knuckles trail against your arm as he pushes it back into place.

“Please,” he whispers, so only you can hear. “Come home with me.”

He doesn’t expect you to agree. He prepares himself for you to reject his invitation, like you always do. But your eyes shine when you look up at him. “Ok.”

When the bills are paid and the table is cleared, you climb into Tenya’s car. It’s dark outside, and it’s just started to rain. Music plays softly from the speakers because he knows you dread silence. Tenya nestles his hand in your lap while he drives, letting you play with his fingers to distract yourself.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No…. I don’t know.”

He’s never seen you like this, the light that usually bursts from inside of you practically extinguished. He knows he can’t take what you say at face value right now.

He doesn’t want to be pushy, but he tries a different question. “Did I do something that upset you?”

Over the pattering of the rain on the windows, he hears you sniffle, and that’s when Tenya realizes that you’re crying.

“I just need a minute to think.”

“Ok.” Tenya turns up the music a few notches, hoping it gives you the illusion of space and privacy behind the sound. That, and unless it gets any worse, he really doesn’t want to hear you cry because it breaks his heart.

You wipe your eyes, pulling yourself together as he parks in his driveway. Craning your neck, you look out the rain-streaked window. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.” Tenya turns the radio down again, but leaves it softly playing an old rock ballad he’s probably heard a thousand times before. “Do you still want to come in? I’ll make you a cup of tea. Or if you’ve changed your mind, I can drive you home or call you a ride. Whatever you want.”

When you turn back to him, you’re wearing a ghost of your usual smile. “You’re too good to me, Iida. Always putting me first.”

Tenya fiddles with his tie, pulling the knot a little looser around his throat. “Of course.” It’s all he can think to say. Is it not obvious?

You unbuckle your seatbelt, his heart clenching at the sound. “A cup of tea would be lovely.”

The rain has started to pick up, so you follow him up to his stoop with your coat held over your head. As Tenya unlocks the door, he decides that if you’re not ready to talk about what’s bothering you, he’s not going to push it anymore. If you just want to be comforted and taken care of, then that’s what he’ll do. In a way, it’s exactly what you’ve been doing for him over the past few months, in more ways than you even know about.

He lets you inside, taking your coat and flipping on a light while you kick off your ankle boots, revealing a pair of brightly-colored socks with what looks like turtles on them. Normally, he’d make a comment, tell you how cute he thinks they are. Maybe later he’ll get the chance.

The next thing Tenya does is fill and turn on the electric kettle. Then he sets you down at the kitchen island while he fixes you a plate of mini scones and goes over the tea choices. “Decaf?” He can’t imagine you’d want caffeine at this hour, but maybe you want a pick-me-up.

“Yes, please. Do you have something herbal?”

Tenya hums as the kettle starts to bubble. “Orange, lavender, or white jasmine?”

“Oh, the orange.”

Tenya grabs two teabags.

“And honey?”

He grabs the honey.

His back is to you as he fixes two matching mugs—thick, blue ceramic that he picked out when he got his first place of his own. The kettle is almost ready, so while he waits, he undoes his tie completely, letting it drape over his shoulders. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt, then rolls up his sleeves. Though Tenya genuinely just likes to be dressed comfortably at home, he wouldn’t be upset if you happen to be watching him.

When the kettle is ready, he prepares a tea for each of you, then turns to add the honey in front of you so you can say when. You wrap both your hands around the mug like it’s made of solid gold. Immediately, you take a sip.

“Ow.” You click your tongue against your teeth.

“You never let it cool,” Tenya mentions, slowly stirring his honey into his steaming cup.

“So you’ve noticed?” This makes you smile, so Tenya keeps going.

“I’ve noticed a lot of things about you.”

“Like how many different bras I own?” you chuckle.

Tenya snorts, then runs a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah. But also stuff like how you like your tea and what music you listen to. Where you have scars and marks on your body. That kind of thing.”

A long, not-uncomfortable silence falls over the kitchen as you both enjoy your tea, Tenya leaning against the island opposite you.

You wring out your teabag against the side of your mug with your spoon, then place both on the saucer Tenya set out between you. Then you clear your throat. “At the bar…”

Tenya sets his own mug down and listens.

You sigh. “It’s kind of stupid, in hindsight. But I’m worried that when you get the promotion, you’ll be all set in life. And you won’t need me anymore.” Your voice wavers on the last syllable, and you cough into your shoulder to cover it up. Your eyes are glassy again.

Tenya doesn’t hesitate, barely thinks before pressing his hand to your cheek, softly bringing your gaze to meet his. “I guarantee that if I get the promotion, I’ll be as stressed as ever. Maybe even more—just look at Sasaki. I’ll be in his shoes.” Tenya chuckles in spite of himself.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t want to stop seeing you, if that were the case. I’d actually like to see you more, if you want that.” Tenya rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Unless you’re ready to be done with me, and whatever this thing is.”

“No.” You reply in a thick, watery whisper. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes. “But I think I fucked up. I think I have real feelings for you.”

Tenya brings his other hand to your face. “Oh, thank god,” he mumbles into a kiss.

Your mugs of tea are quickly forgotten. You kiss him back across the kitchen island, covering his hands with your own. Tenya can’t stop because he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to kiss you like this, with the full weight of how he feels about you.

When you finally pull back, you’re biting your lip. “Is it too much if I ask you to take me to your bedroom?”

Tenya does you one better and carries you there in his arms.

You giggle when he lays you down on his pristinely made bed, your blouse riding up over your stomach. Tenya is blindsided by how beautiful you look like this, rumpled and laughing. He’s never fucked you lying down before, and suddenly, it all feels that much more intimate.

He doesn’t have much time to think about it before you pull him down on top of you by his shirt. Tenya settles himself between your legs, bent over the foot of the bed. You undress each other between passionate kisses, baring yourselves to each other from this entirely new angle.

Tenya trails kisses down your body until he’s crouched on the floor, tongue pressed against your pussy with a heat he’s never felt before. He devours you, groaning while you writhe against him, reaching down to pull his hair when you want him to hit a different spot. He lets you direct him wherever you like, alternating between licking over your hole and sucking your clit until you cream on the two fingers he has buried inside you.

Half-drunk on you, Tenya climbs back on top. With your legs around his waist, you beg him to fuck you, to fill you up with everything he has. He doesn’t have a condom nearby, but you plead with him anyway, telling him that tonight, he doesn’t need one. For the first time since the first time, he slicks himself up with you and slides in raw, moaning your name as the plush of your walls sucks him in deep.

When his glasses slide down his nose from the sweat beading on his face, Tenya tosses them vaguely toward the night stand. As he moves inside you, he drops his forehead to rest against yours. Even with his eyes closed in ecstasy, he listens for every desperate sound you make and feels every clench of your muscles around him.

He feels like there’s so much he wants to tell you, so much he wants to ask you, but it feels so good inside you that he can only babble. Your breaths are hot and fast against his mouth as he lets the words spill out. “So good, so fucking perfect. Good girl, you fuck me so well.”

He lets you push against his chest and roll him over. He holds your middle while you ride him to your climax, the extra wetness and the vice-like squeeze pulling him over the edge with you. Your body locks up over his as he fills you with everything he has, coating your insides until it starts to leak out into his lap.

Tenya’s chest pounds, breath quickening until he comes down and you collapse at his side, a hand splayed over his sweaty chest. He holds you, memorizing the shape and weight of you beside him until you get up to shower off together, and then he holds you for the rest of the night too.

–

Tenya never thought he would see you like this: in his bed, under his sheets, asleep with your head on his pillow. He hates to wake you up and disturb you, but if you want to go home for a change of clothes before work, he probably needs to drive you there soon. Lightly, he nudges your shoulder until your lashes flutter.

“Morning,” he says softly.

You roll over onto your back, groaning a little bit as you stretch. “Good morning,” you mumble.

“Sleep ok?” Tenya slides out of bed, reaching to his bedside table before he realizes his glasses aren’t there. He’s about to get down and look under the bed for them when your hand finds his back. He lays back down.

“Pretty well, yeah.” You take your time looking him over, touching his arm, studying his face fondly.

After a while, he asks, “Do you want me to take you home before work?”

You snuggle deeper into your pillow. “Nah, I’ll just borrow one of your shirts.”

“You’re already wearing one of my shirts,” he smirks, wrapping a hand around you to pull you close. He’d let you dig through his pajama drawer before bed, and you’d chosen the biggest t-shirt you could find.

“Then I’ll borrow another one.” You giggle a bit, before your smile fades. “If that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok.”

You sit halfway up, swallowing a deep breath, and a knot forms in Tenya’s stomach.

“I just want to make sure we’re absolutely clear,” you explain, twisting the bedsheets in your fists. “I have feelings for you. Is that something you want to pursue now? Because I don’t think I can stay casual with you anymore, unless it’s just as friends.”

Tenya exhales. He sits up too, taking you hand in his own so you let the sheets fall away. Even without his glasses on, he sees you in perfect focus, his memory making up for what his vision lacks. “I should have known from the beginning that I couldn’t ‘keep it casual.’ Especially not with you.”

You blush, and it’s one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. You try to look away, but he doesn’t want you to hide from him. Lightly, he lifts your chin with a curled finger and pecks you on the lips.

“Would you like to date me?”

You burst into a fit of happy giggles. “Yes. Please.”

Tenya smiles so big it almost hurts. “Ok. It’s a deal.”

You kiss him again before swatting at his chest. “You fell for me?” you tease.”

“Completely,” Tenya admits with one more kiss.

Eventually, he’s able to get you out of bed, and he finds his glasses, haphazardly tossed aside the night before, all the way across the room, behind his hamper. He’s not even sure how he managed that. He leaves you to get ready while he goes downstairs to start his coffee pot and stick a few eggs in the hard boiler. You don’t have a ton of time to get to work, but he can order you some breakfast once you get there if you want.

With two travel mugs filled and ready to go, he heads back upstairs to finish getting dressed. He finds you in the ensuite, leaning forward over the counter to pin up your hair. You’re wearing one of his dress shirts tucked into your skirt and an oversized sweater vest over top. Somehow, you’ve managed to make it all look so purposeful.

He has a passing thought about taking you over the counter, pushing your skirt up and fucking you from behind, but you’re verging on being late to work already. Besides, he remembers. The two of you have all the time in the world now.

Instead, he gives you a kiss on the cheek, tells you that you look beautiful, and within minutes, you’re out the door.

When he pulls his car into the parking garage, something occurs to him. “What are we going to tell people?”

“About us?”

“Yes,” Tenya chuckles. Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to you yet either, but with this relationship, he was starting to expect to figure things out as you go. “Do you want to tell people about us?”

“Yes,” you answer confidently. “But maybe we can just say that we’ve been getting closer as friends… if anyone asks.”

“Good idea.”

That’s how the two of you end up walking into the building, hand in hand instead of one after the other. It’s also why Kaminari stands up at his desk screaming, “I knew it!” before the front door has even closed behind you.

Tenya probably should have expected the news would shake up the office a bit. Everything is about to change, but to his own surprise, he isn’t afraid in the slightest. He just holds your hand a little tighter, and he feels ok.

While you’re busy talking Kaminari down when Sasaki appears from around the corner. “Iida, do you have a minute?”

Tenya’s stomach drops. Everything positive he was feeling is instantly replaced with nausea. He’s sure his face turns pale as he wonders what this is about. The promotion? Probably. But what if he’s in trouble? What if someone caught the two of you hooking up and he’s about to be reprimanded or worse?

Trying his best not to jump to any more dire conclusions, Tenya swallows the lump in his throat and replies, “Sure.” He gives your hand one more squeeze before following Sasaki to his office. 

Despite his nerves about the conversation ahead, Tenya finds Sasaki’s office as calming as usual. It’s plainly furnished with a desk, chairs, and a few filing cabinets, and a bookcase stuffed with comics, all of which are kept immaculately neat. The only items on the desk are Sasaki’s computer and a set of wax seals. 

On a shelf by the windows sits a tabletop fountain next to an oil diffuser, the calming scent of eucalyptus wafting across the room—Tenya has always assumed Sasaki keeps these around to help with stress. One wall is decorated with posters from national parks, and across from it hangs the company’s yearly branded calendar next to a framed motivational print of a kitten clinging to a tree branch. 

None of this is unsettling except for the old cardboard cutout of Toshinori, made years ago for an advertising campaign, standing in the corner staring out eerily from behind the man himself, who is seated next to Sasaki’s desk.

Toshinori stands and shakes Tenya’s hand. “Great to see you, Iida. I’ve been so busy, I feel like it’s been months!”

In truth, it has been a couple weeks, not that Tenya would mention it. “How’s your finger healing up?” Tenya asks, taking a seat. The last time he saw Toshinori, he was still wearing a splint.

“Fine, it’s all fine. I do have a sprained arch from wakeboarding, but it’s nothing that some good shoes and a few days of rest won’t fix.” Toshinori is always injuring himself, it seems. Nonetheless, he remains endlessly positive, making it impossible for Tenya to tell if he’s in trouble or not.

Sasaki takes a seat as well and pulls some papers out of his desk drawer. “Well, now that Toshinori has a bum foot and I have him captive in the office for the week, we were finally able to discuss some things.”

Sasaki taps the edges of the paperwork on his desk, but before Tenya can even say a prayer that they’re not severance papers, Toshinori blurts out, “We’re promoting you to Quality Manager! What do you think?”

Sasaki sighs. “As in, do you accept the position?”

“And all the perks, of course,” Toshinori says, nudging his elbow into Tenya’s side.

Truthfully, Tenya is so relieved he could almost cry, so it takes him a few minutes to find the words to respond. After flapping his lips a few times, Tenya enthusiastically accepts. “Yes, yes I would love to. I’d be honored.” Reflexively, he reaches out to shake Toshinori’s hand again, which makes his boss laugh as he accepts.

“You’ve been nothing but an asset to the company for years, Young Iida. You deserve it more than anyone.”

Sasaki tries to hand Tenya the stack of forms and contracts to sign, but Tenya slides in a handshake before Sasaki can dodge it. Sasaki chuckles under his breath. “I hope you haven’t been driving yourself crazy worrying about this. You were easily our first choice.”

Tenya clears his throat, accepting the contracts and a pen to sign them with. The salary increase listed at the top of the page is nothing to balk at, and he’s even more thankful than he was a minute ago. 

“To tell you the truth, I thought maybe you’d go with someone else.”

“Who?” Sasaki asks.

“Monoma, maybe,” Tenya mumbles.

Toshinori bursts out laughing, the volume practically rattling the walls. “Monoma is a fine salesman, but truthfully, it was only because the investor board wanted us to present a few candidates before making the offer. He was more of a back-up.”

“Monoma is a prick,” Sasaki adds bluntly. “I would have only promoted Todoroki if you declined, Iida. You’ll be at liberty to choose your own assistant manager once all this is finalized, but I highly recommend you choose him. He’s got a level head on his shoulders.”

“You’re right about that.” Tenya would love nothing more than to bring Todoroki up the corporate ladder with him, so to speak, but he’ll have to see if he’s even interested first. Maybe he can enlist you and Hanta to help him encourage Todoroki to step up. If nothing else, he’s positive Todoroki would love his own office instead of a cubicle.

After he reads over the rest of the documents and signs his name on the dotted line, Sasaki takes Tenya to his new office, an actual corner office that was vacated a few months ago when Aizawa started working from home while taking care of his adopted daughter. It’s all so corporate, and feels almost too much for a middle manager, but Tenya has to admit, the view is much nicer than the temporary walls of his cubicle.

And so is the privacy, he realizes, when you slide in shortly after Sasaki leaves, locking the door behind you.

“Congrats, Mr. Manager.” You throw your arms around his neck, craning your neck back for a kiss. With his hands pressed to the small of your back, Tenya pulls you in for one.

“Thank you. So you heard already?”

You slip teasingly out of his grasp, wandering over to peer out the floor to ceiling windows framing the corner of the room. “Of course. You’re the talk of the office today, you know.”

“Is that so?” Tenya slides up behind you, unable to keep his hands away from your hips, pulling you back against him. He rests his chin on your shoulder, marveling again at the view of the city outside. “And is that your fault?”

“No, Denki was listening at Sasaki’s door the whole time. He’s the one who told everybody.”

Tenya kisses the side of your neck. You don’t smell like your normal perfume. You smell like his shirt, his toothpaste, his home. “Of course.”

You giggle. “And you know what else they’re saying?”

“What’s that?”

“That you’re dating the girl from marketing.”

Tenya kisses your neck again, farther down, pushing your collar aside to get closer to your shoulder. “I’m flattered that people think I could deserve her.”

You turn in his arms, already unbuttoning your top. You take a step back, leaning your ass against his new desk. “Imagine if they knew what’s been happening right under their noses.”

Tenya loosens his tie. He’s on top of the world right now, with nothing to stop him from taking advantage of his new private office. Breaking the facade, he presses himself against you again and asks earnestly, “Does this make me your boyfriend?”

He lifts you up just enough to help you sit on his desk. You grin, somehow warm and salacious all at once. Taking his face in your hands, you pull him closer still. “Yes, sir,” you reply before sealing your lips over his.

-

Todoroki and Sero could not have chosen a more perfect day for their wedding. It’s unseasonably warm for mid-autumn, the sun peeking through the branches of the half-barren trees. For a day when he needs to stand outdoors in a tux and not sweat through his jacket, Tenya could not be more thankful.

Although it’s almost time to head to the venue, Tenya stops in front of the bathroom mirror to ensure that not a hair on his head is out of place. He knows how much it means to Todoroki that today goes smoothly, and even though Tenya isn’t the best man, he’s taken it upon himself to coordinate some of the finer details of the day, as far as the wedding party goes. He’s texted Natsuo multiple times to make sure he has the rings, made sure that Midoriya is on standby for any last minute outfit repairs, and reminded Inasa at the rehearsal dinner that he is not permitted to start drinking until after the ceremony.

Just as Tenya is starting to feel a stress knot forming between his shoulder blades, your heels come clopping against the tile floor of the bathroom. You reach in and grab your lipstick off the bathroom counter, tucking it away in your comically small clutch purse. In the same motion, you teasingly pat his ass with your hand.

“You look so handsome. I love your hair slicked back like that.” Even after everything, it still makes Tenya feel fluttery inside when you flirt with him so shamelessly.

He trails the back of his hand down your arm, admiring the way the sleeve of your dress flutters over your skin. “Thank you. You look beautiful.”

“Good thing there’s no bride to upstage.”

Chuckling, Tenya subconsciously leans in to kiss you. You slap your purse against his chest to stop him. “Baby, my lipstick,” you giggle.

“Good catch.” There’s no time for whatever cleanup that might entail.

From the moment the two of you hop into Tenya’s car, the next few hours pass in a blur. The ceremony is being held outside at Enji’s country club. Cocktail hour will be inside the rustic lodge, and dinner and dancing afterwards in an elaborate tent on the edge of the golf course. Though it looks lovely on you, your lipstick again prevents Tenya from kissing you before you part ways. Instead, he presses a kiss to your hand before you go to meet Kaminari in the lodge for a drink.

Garment bag in hand, Tenya is then whisked away by the wedding coordinator to a dressing room on the lower floor of the lodge. Midoriya is already there, crouched on the floor, pressing the creases in Todoroki’s white tux pants with his portable steamer. The groom himself is sitting on a barstool in a silk robe and his boxers, talking to his brothers. Touya isn’t even technically in the wedding party, but Tenya thinks it’s nice that Shouto invited him to hang out before the ceremony anyway. Inasa and Tokoyami, Todoroki’s college friends, should be joining shortly.

Normally, Tenya would ask Todoroki how he’s feeling, but he’s wary of stirring up any potential trouble. Instead, he says, “That’s a nice robe.”

“Gift from Hanta,” Todoroki says, smiling. “It came in a set. I think mostly he just wanted to wear the matching one.” Natsuo snorts out a laugh before covering his mouth with his hand, but Shouto doesn’t even seem to notice. In fact, he’s smiling more than usual, with an easy confidence that Tenya was definitely not expecting.

“You seem… relaxed.” Tenya can’t help but state the obvious. It’s been months since he’s seen Todoroki so calm and laid-back.

“Yeah, Todoroki,” Midoriya comments. “Aren’t you nervous?”

Tenya would smack Midoriya in the back of the head if he were standing close enough, but Todoroki keeps smiling, unflappable. He simply glances down at his hands, rubbing his left ring finger.

“I would be. But just between us, Hanta and I are actually already married.”

Tenya’s jaw drops to the floor. Midoriya screeches sharply in surprise. 

Natsuo blinks. “You’re what?”

“Don’t tell dad. Or mom or Fuyumi, either,” Todoroki says. “But yeah, we were talking about how stressed we were, how I was so wrapped up in planning and Han was avoiding it. So we decided to book an appointment at city hall, just for us.”

“Well, shit.” Touya clicks his tongue, grinning.

“Well, congratulations!” Tenya sputters, equal parts proud and flabbergasted.

Once everyone is present and dressed, the next few hours are spent taking photos while trying to avoid Sero, who is getting ready with his own bridal party on-location. “Hanta’s old-fashioned,” Todoroki explains at one point. “He didn’t want to see me before the ceremony.”

It’s a sweet notion, and it’s completely worth it, Tenya decides, as he watches the pure joy on his friends’ faces when they finally see each other. With the bridal party already lined up, Todoroki and Sero exit from opposite sides of the lodge and meet at the end of the aisle. Todoroki grins so hard it looks like his cheeks might burst while Sero smiles brightly with all his teeth, an eyebrow raised as if to ask, “Are you ready for this?”

From there, the two join hands and walk to the altar together. Tenya finds himself crying, overwhelmed with happiness and pride for his friends who are so in love. He spends the first few minutes of the ceremony behind his handkerchief until he’s able to pull himself together.

Vows and rings are exchanged, and when the officiant pronounces the couple “officially” wed, Sero fully dips his husband and steals a steamy kiss—one dramatic enough to potentially piss off his new father-in-law, but also romantic enough that no one will be able to say a damn word about it.

Then the party begins.

While the rest of the guests are shuffled off to cocktail hour, Tenya endures more posed photos than he’s ever been subjected to in his life. Cheeks sore from smiling, he finally makes it to the reception tent where you’re waiting for him with a drink in your hand. He tips back the expensive amber liquid without bothering to ask what it is, but the burn on the way down is refreshing.

“Thank you, I needed that,” he jokes, sliding his arm around your waist.

“I thought you might. Being in a wedding is hard work, you know.” You rub little circles into his back, holding yourself close to him.

Tenya presses a kiss to your temple. “Hardest part is being so far from you.” He knows his time is short—the rest of the wedding party members are already filling their seats at the head table, and he needs to join them. 

Your seat at the ‘friends and partners’ table is calling you too. With a parting kiss, you promise to find him after dinner.

The food is incredible, the speeches are limited to a few short toasts, and Todoroki shares a dance with his mother that makes Tenya tear up for a second time that day. It’s all very traditional, befitting the elegant decor and soft, intimate lighting in the room.

Tenya doesn’t consider himself much of a dancer—for all his athletic ability, he’s much too stiff on the dance floor and sticks out like a sore thumb—but he’s relieved when the DJ invites everyone out of their seats with an upbeat pop song. Suddenly, everything feels more casual, and people begin to move around freely to mingle.

Once he procures another drink to loosen him up, Tenya joins you on the dance floor along with Kaminari and Jirou. While Tenya sways side to side behind you, one hand on your hip and the other around the neck of his beer bottle, he gets the chance to people-watch. Todoroki has his arms thrown around Sero’s neck, the newlyweds sharing a smitten look and slow dancing even though it’s a faster song.

By the bar stands Toshinori, a head above the crowd and with his hand wrapped loosely around a few of David Shield’s fingers. Midoriya speaks animatedly to them while tracing his finger nervously around the rim of his cocktail glass. Toshinori flaps open his jacket to show Midoriya the bright red and blue silk lining, so Tenya assumes they must be talking menswear. They seemingly exchange phone numbers, after which Toshinori lays a heavy hand on Midoriya’s shoulder before David pulls him away to another conversation.

As Midoriya lingers alone near the bar, Tenya is able to catch his eye. He tries to wave his friend over to join the group, but Midoriya just shakes his head, lips pressed in a tight smile. It’s then Tenya notices that you’re chatting with Uraraka as you dance, your hands clasped with hers between you as Bakugou hovers nearby, hands in his pockets. She was seated at your dinner table since her boyfriend was standing up for Sero, so of course you made friends.

When the song ends, Tenya can’t help but pat your ass before slipping away. You wink at him over your shoulder and pop your hip, confirming that you liked it.

Tenya drifts over to the bar. Posting up next to Midoriya, he asks casually, “How’s it going?”

Midoriya shrugs. “Fine. I don’t really want to go over there, though.”

Tenya takes a pensive sip of his drink. “Understandable.”

“‘Sup, Iida.”

Turning away from the bar with one of the signature cocktails in hand is Shinsou. Though he was replaced as Kaminari’s date after the leftovers squabble, Tenya doesn’t hold it against him.

In fact, as he’s saying hello to his coworker, Tenya gets an idea that could be complete brilliance or an absolute disaster, but he decides it’s worth a shot.

“Have you met Midoriya? He’s a school friend of mine and Todoroki’s.”

“I have not,” Shinsou muses. He reaches out to Midoriya for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

In less than a second, Midoriya has pulled Shinsou’s entire arm toward him to inspect his wool jacket. “Is this Ralph Lauren?”

Shinsou chuckles. “Yeah, vintage. I like to do my rounds at a few thrift shops every weekend. You wouldn’t believe the gems you’ll find if you’re willing to sift through the junk.”

Midoriya flips Shinsou’s cuff inside out, closely inspecting the stitching. “It’s in great shape, and this is probably from the late 90s. Have you found any other cool stuff lately? I swear I never have any luck at the shops in town.” He’s babbling, a long-standing nervous habit.

Shinsou gives a catlike grin. “I’d be willing to give you some pointers. Wanna go find somewhere a little quieter?”

As the two scamper away, falling into conversation about the best places to thrift, Tenya makes his way back to you. He falls back into place behind you, holding your hips and swaying along with you. It seems like a lifetime ago that he only dared to touch you when no one else was around. In reality, it’s only been a few months since that night at the bar, when everything started—when everything in his life changed.

Tenya’s life isn’t perfect by any means, and it looks much different than he thought it would before you. But he has a job he enjoys for a company that treats him well. He’s in a room with nearly all his friends—more than he can count on two hands—and he’s proud of the lives they’re leading too.

And he’s in love. With you.

The DJ plays a slow song next, urging all the couples to join the grooms on the dance floor. The string lights draped in tulle across the ceiling of the tent fade to a moody indigo hue, and couples young and old take the floor. You spin around, wobbling a little before falling into Tenya’s chest. He makes a mental note to get you a water before you have another drink, but he can’t help but smile when he sees how eager you look.

“Dance with me?”

“Of course.”

You move onto the dance floor proper, choosing a spot near the outer edge. Tenya holds you close, his hands loose against your waist while your arms loop around his neck. It’s effortless, how well the two of you fit together.

Tenya had told himself for years that a relationship would only make life more complicated. He was wrong. Because being with you is easy. It’s comfortable. It makes his life better. The earth-shattering sex is just a bonus, and even that is something he doesn’t have to worry about anymore. He doesn’t need to rush off with you in public because he knows you’ll be home with him at the end of the day. Not that he never wants to hook up in public again, but it’s nice knowing he doesn’t have to.

“So, tonight. Are we going back to your place or mine?”

Tenya hums thoughtfully. “It doesn’t matter. Which do you prefer?”

You playfully tilt your head side to side, like you’re weighing heavy options. “Yours, if that’s ok. I feel like I’ve practically been living there, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Never. Even if you want to move in permanently, I wouldn’t say no.”

It’s not until you gasp that Tenya fully processes what he said, but it’s the truth. He’s been thinking about it for weeks. He’d been going back and forth, a little worried that it might be to soon for you—

“Can I really?”

Tenya pushes a stray tendril of hair behind your ear. “Yes.”

You quietly squeal with delight, just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “You want to live with me? You want to cook and pay bills together? And share a dresser drawer for our socks?”

“I think you can have your own dresser. But yes,” Tenya chuckles.

“Can we get new curtains for the bedroom windows?” Clearly, you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

“What’s wrong with my curtains?”

Your fingers drum against his shoulder. “Nothing, nothing! I just think the room could use a little more color.”

“Fair enough, if we can pick out the new ones together.”

“Deal. But I want something a little darker so I can sleep in while you go running crazy early in the morning.”

“All right.” He smiles.

Tenya has only successfully convinced you to join him once on his morning run. It was nice having you by his side, but he finds it equally nice to come home and see you still serenely asleep in his bed—your shared bed. Those early mornings are his favorite thing in the world, especially when they lead to cuddling you, showering with you, making coffee and pancakes with you. Now that you’re moving in, he realizes, maybe every morning can be like that.

Tenya tilts your head up, content to kiss your lipstick off. After, you press your cheek to his chest, ear to his racing heartbeat. Even with all the time in the world, Tenya can’t wait for what comes next with you.

[vrabbiit]

⭐️ Glamrock Freddy HCs - I ⭐️

Last but certainly not least in this mini-series is Freddy himself!!! I'm gonna be honest and say he is in fact my favourite, which is why I chose to do him last-

If anyone wants to see this with the non-Glamrocks (I do have more Daycare Attendant stuff on the way!), feel free to drop me an ask, or if you want to see my takes on Glamrock Bonnie (or even Glamrock Foxy although he's even less canon)!

Contains

General Headcanons

Shipping Headcanons (SFW)

General Headcanons

Like I said in my first post, he's a lot more perceptive than he comes across. He's programmed to entertain people and that involves being able to tell when they are or aren't enjoying a performance or even a conversation. Case in point, he probably has an almost scary ability to tell how people are feeling from their expressions. He'd never use that ability for anything other than good, though.

As the face of the franchise, he gets a bit more of the spotlight than the others, which means he also has to do a lot of covering up for the others. He's supposed to be the voice of reason out of the band, and as such he tries to discourage them from doing anything too damaging, but most of the time it just ends in him having to do damage control (which he's happy, if not a little exasperated, to do). Ironically, he is a horrible liar when caught off guard (he needs time to think about what he'll say, because he will stumble over his words otherwise and give everything away.)

Second most casually affectionate of the Glamrocks, but he's polite about it. He has a very warm personality, and it shows through in the way he acts around people. He’s the one in the band who’s always kneeling down to hug kids and posing for pictures with them (not that the others don’t also do that!), and yes he does give off immense dad energy.

Funnily enough, I imagine that he’s popular with kids’ parents too. While the other three can sometimes come across as a bit wilder, Freddy comes across as very trustworthy and polite. (Because of this, I also feel like he has a fan club of moms who have a bit of a crush on him, which is extremely funny to me. He doesn’t know how to deal with them.)

I imagine he’s very good at Fazerblast, but he absolutely lets the other team win most of the time. It’s actually very endearing to see him congratulate a tiny child for beating him, when he stood completely still for a full minute to let the kid hit him.

Will absolutely tell dad jokes. Nobody knows who or why it was programmed into him, but he loves puns and plays on words, and it absolutely gets a groan out of the others whenever he cracks an especially bad one. He’s good with words, though, so some of them won’t even register until a few minutes later.

Shipping Headcanons

He is genuinely just the most attentive person (robot?) you could possibly be dating. If you’re with him, you’re his number one priority at all times. This is a popular headcanon but he definitely remembers all the small things about you that you didn’t even realise he’d picked up on - favourite food and drink, what you do outside of the Pizzaplex, what compliments and terms of endearment you seem to react the most to.

Yeah, contrary to popular opinion I don’t see Freddy being clueless or oblivious about his feelings, and especially not yours if you’re bad at hiding them. He’s absolutely nowhere near as forward as Monty, but like mentioned, he’s good with his words. There’s probably a period of time before dating where you find yourself thinking “Does he know or am I just imagining things?” He knows, he’s just subtle and wants to flirt with you without people around finding it inappropriate. When it gets to a time that he’d consider appropriate (ergo, somewhere where he knows it’s private) he’ll absolutely confess to you. It’s not that he doesn’t like showing you off, he absolutely does, he just wants to balance his public and private life. He won’t ignore you or act like you’re not together, but when you’re alone you have his full attention at all times.

Big user of pet names/nicknames. He’ll call you “superstar” if you want, but also just names like “darling” and “sweetheart” and “dear” all the time. He’s pretty good at figuring out which names you prefer, too. Also, he is just the most complimentary guy you’ll ever meet. Every other thing out of his mouth (and he’s chatty enough that this is significant) is something about how amazing you are, or how much he cares about you, etc. In short, the bear is down bad for you and he makes sure you know it.

While he’s far from cold in public and he’d never make you feel unloved, know that he’s ten times more touchy in private. He’s almost as handsy as Monty and he could just cuddle with you for hours if needed. It’s not necessarily in an inappropriate way, and in fact, he’s still very physically affectionate in public too, but he will literally just hold you constantly. It doesn’t matter how big or strong or tall you are, this guy has animatronic strength and he’s a big guy, so expect to get carried places if you’re tired. Or even if you’re not.

Claims to not be the jealous type, and he is absolutely not as extreme as some of the others, but he does have a protective streak. He knows the Pizzaplex like the back of his hand and will do whatever he can to keep you safe both physically and in social situations. He’s not likely to step in if you’re just talking to someone else, but if you show even the slightest bit of discomfort he’ll swoop in and (depending on the situation, sometimes literally) sweep you off your feet and away from whoever it is.

Surprisingly enough, Freddy’s love language isn’t physical affection but in fact acts of service. If you’re dating him he will do absolutely anything for you, so expect him to help out with whatever you’re doing to the best of his ability. Also just expect him to do things for you without expecting anything in return, seeing you smile is enough for him.

[aminiatureworld]

Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

 Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

 Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing  to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

 Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.  

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream II // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again tried to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides wait to confess his feelings. Only to have soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of pregnancy, cops, strict parents, and angst 

Words: 3.1k

A/N: I’m thinking maybe four or five more parts following this. I really fell back into a Narnia hole recently.

Part One

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Julie Molina didn't mean to snoop in Luke's things at all, but her elbow had bumped his backpack to the ground. A worn picture had escaped the open bag to float next to her foot. Her deft fingers picked the photo of Alex standing with a girl laughing at something out of frame. The jacket the girl wore was familiar to Julie as she had seen Luke wear it.

Her throws furrowed as she turned the picture to the back to see the writing on the back in legible black sharpie.

Y/N and Alex Mercer, Downtown Los Angeles 1993

Julie's took a guess that the girl was-

"What the hell Julie?" Luke's furious tone took the girl by surprise, but it was the rush to yank the picture from her hand. The guitarist flooded with the familiar grief that was never too far from his mind, it had been one a year to him instead of twenty-six.

The picture was cradled in the guitarist's hands as he pinned a nasty glare on his living friend as if she had kicked his puppy. Behind him stood Alex and Reggie becoming quiet at the picture in Luke's hand. The tears started to fill Alex's eyes as he vividly remembered the night when the picture had been taken.

Alex slung his arm around his sister's shoulders with the identical grin on display as Bobby and Reggie slumped over a paper. You had a feeling it was a song that Reggie had written and Bobby loved being able to give his input on the music. Something he didn't get to do with Luke. With that name in mind, you turned to the guitarist lazing around on a couch.

The band had finished a three-song set for a local club that often turned their cheek to minors walking in. It had taken a lot of manoeuvring, but you had been able to sneak inside to add the band to the list.

"Can you believe this?" Alex gleefully laughed, looking around the packed backstage room they had snagged. They had it for another five minutes, and the band ate it up as if they had already made it in the business.

"I can't believe you guys actually made this happen." You breathed before a laugh escaped your mouth at Reggie, pulling a face at you. The blinding flash bringing your attention to the boy holding the camera you had received as a gift.

"Always a great candid with you!" Luke announced shoving the camera in his backpack with a cheeky grin aimed directly at you, "We better split before security catches us."

"I thought they knew we were here!" Alex exclaimed rushing to grab his things with all bad ideas conjuring in his head. Being in the band annoyed your parents so if he ended up arrested he'd be shipped off to a behavioural boarding school.

He saw himself in a prison cell after being arrested. His mind going to the worst-case scenario instead of only being kicked out instead.

"If you knew the truth, you wouldn't have been able to sit still." Luke retorted as the sound of footsteps sounded outside the room. Luke's eyes scanning the room for any kind of solution to their problem.

 With no safe exit, the five teenagers shuffled into the small bathroom with a big window that opened. Luke was quick to push Bobby and Reggie out first. He went next stationing himself to catch you before Alex was pacing in the bathroom alone.

"C'mon man!" Luke whispered to the blonde drummer glancing between the open window and the door separating him from security.

"If our parents have to pick us up from the cops, we are dead, Luke!" Alex hissed wincing at the loud knock on the door, "They barely condone being a band let alone getting arrested. We'd be in boarding school before you could say Orpheum!"

"Then get your ass down here!" Luke retorted jumping in place as Alex debated his options, but he slipped out the window with a sigh. The group running off with the sound of security hanging out the window screaming at the teenagers. His hand encased in Y/N Mercer's own soft hand.

"That's Y/N." Alex's voice was soft to the Puerto Rican's ears with his eyes a more delicate blue giving Julie the impression he was mostly lost in thought, "My little sister."

Julie's eyes shifted between the three ghostly boys all quieter than anything Julie had ever encountered with them. The only other time Julie had seen Luke so sad was when Alex and Reggie brought her to Luke's childhood home. It was unsettling to see the usual happy go lucky boy drained of energy.

"Did you find her?" Julie asked recalling that Alex had been the only one so far to not attempt to find his family. Reggie had told Julie how his house turned into a bike shack but other than that the subject wasn't brought up.

"She disappeared in 1994." Luke choked out, clenching his eyes tight at the last smile he saw on your face. The one that was seared in his mind with the regret of never taking his chance with you.

Twenty-six years didn't wipe the deep feelings he still held for the girl who had disappeared with his heart. Attempts to find her futile leaving her state just as unknown as back in the '90s. The case had been long cold with the years erasing her memory from people as they moved on.

"Did she-"

"We don't know. One night she just disappeared with no clues." Reggie supplied finding himself to be the only one able to speak. Luke and Alex overtook by the flood of grief and guilt that came every time they grew strong enough to mention her name.

"I can look for her if you want." Julie offered to the trio, "If she's living she may have social media. More likely Facebook with her age but if I can get-"

"No." Luke and Alex spoke at the same time with equal passion in their voices, but it was Luke that continued, "I don't want to know."

Julie's lips parted, but Luke already left with Alex in tow by the grasp on his distressed jean jacket. The Mercer boy sending a smile of gratitude, leaving Reggie alone with her.

"I'd like to know." Reggie softly spoke, meeting the gaze of the living girl, "Maybe that's why we're here too. To find the truth about her disappearance and if we find something, we can tell them."

The shadowed pain in his eyes creating a yearning in Julie's heart, "Of course. Can you tell me about her? I could build a portfolio on possible places she's been."

"Her disappearance was a catalyst for a lot of things that happened." Reggie admitted breaking his usual carefree and clueless demeanour, "Alex and Y/N aren't twins. She was a year younger than us but where one sibling went, so did the other. They understood each other more than the band could ever know."

"Why hasn't Alex talked about her?"

"It's hard. The world in the '90s is very different from this time. We've mentioned bits and pieces of our lives, but you don't know the darker pieces."

Julie listened intently as Reggie was the most serious she had ever seen him, showing her that there was more to Reggie Peters than he let on. Julie felt honoured he trusted her enough to drop his guard that he held up strong.

"Mr. and Mrs. Mercer had certain beliefs that their family should hold and show the rest of the world. Before the band, Alex and Y/N were shells of their real selves laced into designer clothing, perfect grades, charity galas and their futures already written."

"So, they came from money? Galas and designer clothing." Julie rolled her eyes, "What was so bad about that?"

"Just because they had money didn't mean they weren't suffering. Anything less than 98% was a failure to Mr. Mercer. By the time Y/N was thirteen, she was trained on how to be a perfect lady. Alex wasn't supposed to play the drums, both he and Y/N were classically trained on piano and violin." Reggie recalled, "The first time Alex held drumsticks it was like he shattered the glass window of the tank he was drowning in."

"What about Y/N?" Julie questioned, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched Reggie melted into the memories he fondly held dear in his heart.

"She stayed in her tank drowning, so Alex didn't have to be alone." Reggie simply replied a fond smile reappearing at the days you would dedicate to solely to him.

Reggie didn't like to talk about the things that went on behind the doors of his idyllic beach house. You just knew and gave him days that let him step out of the fear of the unknown. He didn't have to put up his front like he did with the guys, he got to be unapologetically Reginald Peters. The boy that had wished his parents would stop fighting and be that happy family once more, but his wishes never got answered.

"She sounds like a really cool person."

"Luke and she had this unspoken relationship that never evolved into more. Both too scared the other didn't feel the same. The night she disappeared, he was going to tell her he loved her. When it didn't happen, he was going to do it the next morning."

 "But she was never found. What do you think happened?" Julie questioned the Peters boy who's smile dropped. His mind flipping through all the what-ifs that had lived in his brain for the entire year before he died.

"I think she ran into trouble and couldn't find a way out. I only hope if she passed away, it was easy and quick." Reggie finished instantly flipping the switch back to his usual oblivious façade used as his coping mechanism.

"I was thinking we could work on that song?" Luke piped up as he and Alex both poofed back into the studio as if the last hour hadn't happened. Both their pain neatly placed back in that box in their brains the light barely caught a glance at.

As Sunset Curve poured themselves into the song, they worked on together deep in the basement of the Molina's a sound lightly filled the space. The sound of a celebration heard with the backing of upbeat trumpets followed by a laugh. A soft golden glow lighting up the dark basement through a sheet protecting an antique piece of furniture.

The Golden Age, Cair Paravel, Narnia

The House of Pevensie ruled fairly and justly for a decade and a half together with High King Peter and his Queen, you, by his side. Never one to cower from a battle you were often found by Peter's side holding the sword and the bow strapped over your back. Both items gifts from Father Christmas back during the Winter Rebellion against the White Witch.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. In the year 1015 of the Golden Age, the Kings and Queens of Narnia set out on a hunt. Leaving the daily duties to their court, the Pevensie family decided to hunt the magical White Stag. It was a break from the stress of ruling and failing to provide an heir to the kingdom for you and Peter.

"How are you?" Susan questioned slowly to a trot beside you and your horse Mercer. The question flaring frustration once more in your body.

"I am fine, Susan." You sighed looking ahead to where Peter was speaking with Edmund and Lucy animatedly. His blue eyes raising to meet yours with the fondness that had evolved from the love.

The courtship that turned into marriage had mellowed from the way it had been in your early '20s. At thirty-one, you found that what you had thought was everlasting love was simply just two teenagers with mutual attraction. The only two that understood each other coming from a different place than Narnia.

You still loved Peter, but something made you feel as if he wasn't the first man you had loved and certainly not as much as this nameless person. Overtime Peter and you came to the same conclusion, you ruled as before. You loved each other but not as fiercely as before with the kingdom's responsibilities, placing the relationship on the back burner.

You had years to fix it, however. That's the excuse you always told herself when the guilt of thinking of another.

"The last person to the White Stag has to sit through O'Rielly's draft of his speech," Edmund called out before racing off with his trusted horse Philip taking the lead. Only momentarily as Peter first overtook him.

Mercer swiftly brought you up right behind Peter with a grin on both of your faces.

"Ed, as usual, makes his declaration and can't keep up!" You called over your shoulder at the twenty-eight-year-old King.

His response is a teasing eye roll as he leaned over to caress Philip, "Are you all right, Philip?"

"I'm not as young as I once was." The dashing dark brown horse huffed to his rider as he shifts on his hooves returning to his confident stance—the other royal horses returning to Edmund's side as well. Mercer immediately stepping up on Philip's left flank with a soft sound of acknowledgement.

"Come on, Ed," Susan spoke barely giving Philip a look as she had known for a while that it may be time for Philip to retire. For Philip to choose his successor to serve his King, but it was hard for Edmund to think of Philip retiring.

"Just catching my breath," Edmund informed his cheery older sister patting Philip once more before sitting up straight in the saddle. His brown eyes scanning the surroundings hugging the family in warmth reminiscent of his mother's arms.

"That'll be all we'll catch at this rate." Susan retorted copying Edmund by patting her horse's head earning a thankful neigh in response. The teasing grin lighting up Susan's pretty features that had many a suitor at the castle for her hand in marriage.

"What did he say again, Susan?" Lucy inquired with rosy cheeks from the autumn wind hitting from the exhilaration of riding. Coming to a stop beside the youngest royal, your hand found a home in Peter's calloused one.

"I believe he underestimated us as usual." You inserted sharing a smile with both your sisters-in-laws, "I can't quite recall the words…Susan, would you recall them?"

"' you girls wait in the castle. I'll get the stag myself' were his words with his cheeky smile." Susan replied. Unlike when Edmund was thirteen, he joyfully joined in the laughter filling the woods of Narnia.

Your eyes scanning the area that tickled a faint memory of a girl wearing unusual clothing in the kingdom. A shirt that bared your skin in the dead of winter. The shirt paired with a short skirt of a similar colour to another young woman. Your attention brought Peter's to the landscape as well. So curious the High King dismounted his horse and helped you down. 

 "What's this?" Peter inquired stepping closer to a tall pole with a lamp lit up with a flame. Covered in vines it was nearly invisible to the eye unless you looked up, "It seems familiar. Love, do you know what it is?"

"I don't remember it. I've seen it but how I did evades me." You replied, stepping closer to the lamppost. Susan was quick to step up beside you just as confused.

"As if from a dream?" Susan spoke, earning a mute nod from you as that same faceless man flickered in your memory. The one that haunted your dreams with the odd cameo of a blonde man.

Your eyes returning the horse you named Mercer as the name held an emotional connection you never understood. Often you would have a memory tickle your brain before disappearing with tasks to be done at the castle. When you saw the back of a blonde in crowds, you felt sad and lost. Or feeling Peter's hand in your own fluttering your heart until your e/c eyes found his bright blue and the fluttering died down.

"Of a dream of a dream," Lucy spoke, turning on her heel to the vast trees concealing the beyond. Lucy spoke barely louder than a whisper, "Spare Oom."

With that, the youngest Queen raced off through the woods with her family on her heels. 

"Lucy!" Peter admonished the retreating form of his little sister in her blood-red dress. A deep sigh pulled from your lips as the free-spirited woman ignored their calls.

"Every time. I swear she's still a kid at heart." You spoke jogging alongside Edmund behind Susan and Peter. Your midnight blue dress barely touching the grass of the forest floor.

"You're a kid at heart as well." Edmund merely replied, keeping his eyes on the bright colours of the royal garb his siblings wore.

"Come on!" Lucy's voice called out through the branches that slowly but surely turned softer and the trees tapered smaller.

"These aren't branches!" Peter called out in his deep voice that temporally turned higher before it went back to the gravelly tone. You swore with everything inside his hands became softer and harder to grasp.

"Keen observation there." You retorted taken aback at the attitude you found infused in your voice as if you a teenager once more. Peter's surprise quickly found in his blue eyes that glanced over his shoulder.

"Ow! Ooh!" Edmund hissed as a branch scraped his cheeks and the pain vanished with the soft touch of fur on the scratch. The sudden change of texture startled him almost as the switch of his voice to the high pitch of his thirteen-year-old self.

"They're coats! Fur coats!" Susan gasped startled by the odd shift between the forest and whatever this place was. 

"Mrs. Beaver would throw a fit over th- Ow! Lucy, you elbowed my ribs!" You whined stumbling into Peter's side as the others complained at each other hitting, stepping and kicking as the area became smaller and smaller.

Your eyes raising to meet Peter's blue taken aback by his appearance back when you had fought side by side against the White Witch. The eyes that kept rapt with yours at the coronation fifteen years ago and then your wedding ten years previous. 

Then behind the siblings in front of you, a door opened to a large empty room with windows behind framing a rural countryside. Then your husband and in-laws were gone, and you fell out with memories from a lost life hitting you full force as you tripped out of the wardrobe. 

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[babymetaldoll]

Danger days - Chapter two: "I'm the kinda that you wanna"

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x OC + My Chemical Romance.

Word count: 5.5K

Summary: Joey faces MCR after their awful first meeting. Matthew supports whatever she decides to do with her life. Gerard is still kind of an asshole, and Frank tries his best to be a better person.

Warnings: Cursing.

A/N: WOW!! I can't believe you are actually reading this!! thank you for the love!! I was gonna post this tomorrow, but... here it is.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

--

::: Los Angeles, October 14th, 2010 :::

Mikey ate his breakfast alone, sitting at the kitchen island. He was thinking about the daily schedule, the band's upcoming tour, and clearly, the severe problems in his marriage, the one subject he kept trying to avoid.

His wife was still asleep, and he didn't want to be around when she woke up. He knew it only meant another fight. Whenever they were in the same room, it always meant an argument, and Mikey was tired of it all.

It was clear they had to get a divorce, but neither of them had brought it up just yet.

He and Alicia had grown apart in the latest months. It was hard with him touring for so long and his wife staying home, persuading her own future in the music industry. And after so much time apart, they were both tired of trying. It just wasn't working anymore.

Frank and Ray were staying at the same hotel. They drove together to the practice studio, doing their best to agree on their ideas about Joey. But they weren't really on the same page at all.

- "Just don't be an ass, ok?"- Ray said when he parked outside the studio, and Frank immediately lit a cigarette.

- "Yeah, whatever,"- Toro got out of the car and closed the door, staring at his friend leaning against the wall to smoke alone- "I'll be right there."

Iero grabbed his phone and read the messages in a vague attempt to think of anything else. But that didn't help at all; Joey parked her car just before him that very second.

- "Shit!"- the two of them said at the same time. Frank put on his dark sunglasses, and Joey grabbed all her things from the passenger seat.

- "I can't catch a break!"- she argued as she opened the door and decided to get over the horribly awkward moment- Hey!- she smiled and waved as Frank nodded- "How are you?"

- "Good, you?"

- "Good..."- and it was still awkward- "So, thank you for inviting me again,"- and Frank nodded again, not saying a word- "I'll... head... inside then."

Joey tried to smile, but it was too uncomfortable to bear. So she ran away.

- "Did you catch the game last night?"- Mikey asked as he sipped his coffee, while Ray grabbed a guitar and started tuning it.

- "No, I played video games until late."

- "What are you playing?"

- "Red dead redemption"

- "Cool, and Christa?"

- "She's back home with her parents,"- Ray kept turning the guitar and never noticed Mikey's sad face- "And Alicia?"

- "She's home. She was sleeping when I left."

- "Is everything ok?"

- "Yeah"- and again, Ray was so concentrated on his guitar, he didn't catch a glimpse of Mikey's sad look.

- "Hello"- Joey walked in, and the two guys smiled- "Am I too early?"

- "No, you are just on time,"- Ray stood up and grabbed a cup of coffee- "I got you this."

- "Oh! thank you!"- Joey was surprised by the gesture- "You shouldn't have."

- "I owed you,"- Toro kind of blushed as Joey held the cup and took a sip.

- "Black, no sugar. How did you know?"

- "I didn't know if you liked cream, and I got a lot of sugar on a side"- Ray quickly answered and showed Joey a bunch of sugar bags on a tray.

- "You nailed it."

- "Hey"- Mikey kinda whispered in a low voice- "I'm sorry, I thought you were getting us coffee and stuff yesterday."

- "Dude, it's ok, don't worry,"- Joey smiled and kept drinking her coffee- "Now I know if I get the job, I can get you black coffee with almond milk to brighten your day"- and he chuckled.

- "And thank you for coming over again."

- "My pleasure,"- Joey answered and stayed quiet looking at the two guys- "So... I saw Frank outside."

- "Yeah, he was smoking, and Gerard should be right here by now,"- Mikey took a look at his wristwatch. It was almost noon, and he knew his brother was going to be late.

Gerard was driving and smoking, trying to devise anything to avoid going to the studio and doing another audition with that woman. He didn't want to. Why? Way really didn't know. It was something inside of him that made him feel like he should stay the fuck away from her 'cos something terrible might happen. And he didn't want to find out what it was.

- "Hey"- Frank waved at Gee when he walked out of his car- "You are late."

- "Yeah, I didn't want to come,"- and Iero chuckled- "What are you doing here?"

- "I didn't want to get in just yet."

- "Is she here already?"

- "Yeah... she got here all happy like fifteen minutes ago."

- "Fine... let's get this over with,"- Gerard walked in and did his best not to look annoyed, which was virtually impossible, 'cos he couldn't stop frowning.

As soon as they walked into the studio, the image was Joey, Ray, and Mikey laughing like they were already best friends. And that got Gerard even more upset, if possible, and because of no reason at all.

- "Hey!"- Mikey stood up and hugged his brother.

- "Hi, nice to see you again,"- Joey reached out for Gerard's hand and smiled to do the same with Frank.

- "Thank you for coming,"- he whispered and cleared his throat. The drummer looked around at the band and started the speech she had prepared in her mind the whole morning.

- "Guys, I just wanted to clear the air here. If you don't want me to do this and you just called 'cos Tucker asked you to, there's no need to go through all this shit. I can go home, no hard feelings or anything"- and the band stayed quiet. Ray looked at Frank and waited for his words.

- "Joey, we just... why did you call Tucker? that was so rude!"

- "First of all, I didn't call him, he called and annoyed me for ten minutes before I told him what happened. And second, you were rude, you barely looked at me, you didn't even pay attention to what I did, and you clearly made up an interview to ask me to leave."

Joey directed those words looking right into Gerard's eyes and just spit the words, knowing that wasn't really gonna help her get the job.

- "Tucker didn't really lie, guys,"- Mikey said and tried to ease the mood- "You were rude at her, and I'm sorry to tell you, she's the best we've had so far."

- "Do you honestly think we can work together after what happened with Tucker?"- Gerard asked her, and she shrugged.

- "If you deal with the fact you were rude to me, then yeah, I've got no problem with it,"- and Frank huffed at that answer.

- "You made us look bad in front of a friend."

- "No, you looked bad in front of me, and when Tucker asked how had it been, were you expecting me to lie and tell him it was awesome? come on!"- Joey frowned, knowing that ship had sailed already- "This shit is high school all over again!"

- "I feel the same!"- Ray said and stood up- "Ok, let's get this straight, you two were assholes! And that's the main problem here! if she did or did not call Tucker to tell him about it, that's not the point!"

- "But dude!"-Frank tied to argue, but Ray stopped him.

- "No! this is our job, and we have to be professional. So now you are gonna be a grown-up, and you are going to apologize for being an asshole with no reason to her, 'cos she just came to apply for a job, ok?"

Ray looked more like a dad than like a band colleague at that point.

- "Sorry, Joey"- Frank whispered and looked down at his shoes. Ray looked at Gerard and raised an eyebrow

- "I'm sorry I was a jerk"- he mumbled

- "And I'm sorry I told Tucker you were assholes. He was really excited about the audition, and he was just trying to help me out. It clearly didn't work out, but he meant good."

Joey tried to be as nice as possible, thinking shit had gotten way too bad to even think about playing with this band.

- "Ok, now I'm gonna go so you can continue your drummer hunt."

- "Wait!"- Mikey held her arm and cut her a smile- "You should jam with us for a while."

- "I don't think that's a good idea. This got too complicated. And whether I'm good or not, I don't want this to be awkward for you. You are looking for someone to work with, it's your band, and you should be comfortable with who you choose."- Joey smiled and grabbed her bag- "I just wanted to thank you for apologizing and for caring about what happened. I'm gonna tell Tucker you are all very nice."- she joked, and the band looked at each other.

- "No, really, stay. We didn't ask you to come because of Tucker. We did it because we really want to give your audition another go,"- Frank's word surprised Joey. She wasn't really able to say a word back; she just nodded and smiled.

- "Great!"- Mikey clapped once and grabbed a bunch of papers from his bag- "I printed you some of the sheets of our songs,"- Joey held them and read them

- "Cool"

- "So... wanna warm-up?"

- "I already played two hours before I left the house."- she whispered, embarrassed of her confession- "Sorry, I just have this weird routine. I work out, eat and play in the early morning, just to get me through the day not killing anyone."

And Mikey chuckled. Frank kinda bit his lips to don't smile. He found it funny.

- "Great, then let's set us up,"- Ray smiled and walked to grab his guitar- "We remembered you were left-handed, so Mikey and I rearranged the drum set for you,"- Gerard raised an eyebrow staring at the scene.

- "Why is Ray so nice with her? Is he crushed on that girl? no way! he is a married man! married guys don't have crushes! it is impossible".

Joey read the music sheets and nodded. She had studied most of the songs, and though she had never been a huge fan of the band, she liked it enough to easily follow the tempo of each tune.

Gerard looked at her playing and hated the fact Mikey was right. She kept following each change they were doing and even threw a few herself that worked perfectly. He hated it 'cos she made it fun, and he wanted to hate her. Very childish of him, but yet, that's how he could describe it.

Frank looked at Mikey and then at Ray as they all played "Thank you for the Venom" and knew in his guts this was it. Musically this is what they needed. And also knew it was a shitty situation 'cos he had already made an enormous fuss and didn't really know how to fix it.

- "Shit!"- Ray said as soon as the song ended.

- "Yeah, that was great."- Gerard said and smiled. He knew he couldn't get away with it. Shit worked. And it worked awesomely- "Can we do "Parade"?"

- "Sure, just let me read it first. That's a long one,"- Joey said and grabbed one of the sheets. Mikey walked to his brother and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to admit it.

- "I hate you."- Gerard whispered.

- "I know, just say it"

- "No"

- "Say it"- Mikey raised an eyebrow and kinda chuckled.

- "You were right. She's good,"- Gerard whispered, and his brother nodded.

- "God damn, I'm right!"

- "Ok, let's do this before I totally forget it..."- Joey said and smiled- "And who's gonna play the G note?"- the whole band stared at her, and she shrugged- "G note, not G spot, don't get scared"- Gerard chuckled, and he hated himself for it- "Come on pervs, let's do this!"

Somehow, Joey felt a little more in place between the guys, probably 'cos being a drummer, she was pretty used to hang out with men, from her teachers to classmates. She used to have girl bands growing up, but she found it easier working with guys professionally.

- "So, lunch?"- Ray asked and left his guitar aside. They had been jamming for over two hours.

- "Nice, I'm starving,"- Mikey did the same and turned to Joey- "Wanna come?"- she froze and looked at the whole band from behind the drums- "We are gonna go grab something to eat."

- "Yeah, then we can continue the practice,"- Gerard added and walked to the door. Joey kept in silence and looked at Mikey, smiling sweetly.

- "Ok... sure."

- "Great!"- Ray smiled- "Come on, are you a fan of Indian food? There's a fantastic place a few blocks from here!"

Frank sighed and walked outside to light a cigarette. He was sure Ray had a thing for Joey, and that upset him, most of all 'cos, just as Gerard had thought, Ray was a married man, and a happily married man, he shouldn't care about Joey that much. He was way into making her feel good. And that made Frank uncomfortable. And most of all, like a jerk for being mean to her in the first place.

- "Hey"- Joey appeared by his side all of a sudden and scared the shit out of him- "Sorry!"

- "I didn't know you were coming behind me."

- "Everybody had to pee. Apparently, they all have a small bladder,"- Frank grinned, lit a cigarette, and offered Joey one- "Thanks, I quit a few years ago."

- "Really? why?"

- "'Cos I stopped breathing... and found out I was asthmatic, which made total sense when I gave it a thought"- Frank nodded.

- "I shouldn't smoke either. My lungs are shit; I'm a bronchitis magnet."

- "I feel you"- Joey opened her backpack and took out her coconut butter hand cream. Frank looked at her and sort of smiled.

- "Do you want some? it's gonna be good to keep those tattoos from washing away"- Frank left the cigarette on his lips and grabbed the cream.

- "You are not even in the band yet, and you are making me use hand cream."

- "Tell you, what if I get the job I'll make sure I'll keep you moisturize every day,"- the young woman winked at him and saw the rest of the band walking towards them. She didn't notice Frank's face, who had turned purple after those words.

Matthew took a look at his clock as he walked outside the set. Joey should be back home by then, so he dialed her number and waited.

- "Hey, Akumu!"- he heard Joey's cheerful voice at the other side of the line and smiled.

- "Hey, Yami! How was it? Did you get the job? were those guys nice to you? are you ok?"

- "You are not gonna believe this, but we talked about it, and I have the feeling things are pretty much clear between us."

- "That's great, dorky! What are you doing now? are you back home?"

- "No, we came to grab something to eat, and then we'll continue rehearsing."

- "So you are still with the band then?"- Gubler was surprised, but happy things were working.

- "Yeah, and how's the reading going?"

- "Good, we've been at it the whole morning, now I'm about to eat something, and then I'll keep reading my lines."

- "Looking like a maniac pointing a fake gun made with your fingers?"

- "Just like any other day"- Matthew made a pause as he kept walking in circles, thinking about his girlfriend hanging somewhere with that band- "Hey, are those guys being nice to you?"

Joey looked back at the table where the band was eating and nodded, knowing her boyfriend couldn't see her.

- "Surprisingly, yes. They are all being very friendly. They apologize for being assholes yesterday."

- "Wow, really?"

- "Yeah, we had a weird deep talk in the morning. I think shit is cool now."

- "I'm glad, Yami."

- "Yeah, I've got the feeling they might actually give me the job."

- "That would be awesome."

- "I know! Anyway, Akumu, I have to go. I gotta do my best to be nice with these guys."

- "Please, don't be too nice. They don't really deserve it,"- Matthew joked, and Joey chuckled.

- "You are right, but mama needs to work."

- "But daddy can take care of you,"- Joey chuckled, making her best to process that information.

- "I love you so much, Gubler, but I can deal with this on my own."

- "I know you can."

- "Thank you."

- "I just wanna help."

- "Your support and love are all the help I need to make it."

- "So, what are we gonna do?"- Mikey asked his brother, and Gerard cleared his throat, looking at Joey talking on the phone on the other side of the diner.

- "I know you want her to stay, guessing Ray is dying to work with her,"- Gerard raised an eyebrow at his friend, and Frank nodded.

- "Yeah, you are way into that chick."

- "No way! I'm just trying to be nice 'cos you've been jerks."

- "Oh, come on!! you've got jizz all over your underwear!"- Frank's comment made Mikey laugh and almost choke with his lunch.

- "Dude, you went too far!"- Ray argued, disgusted- "And no, I don't have a crush on her, I just feel bad you made her so uncomfortable, and I'm trying to make it up for her."

The band looked at him in silence as Mikey kept coughing.

- "Dude, are you ok?"- Joey asked as she sat back at the table- "Do you want some water?"- and she reached out her glass to him, who took it and drank most of it.

- "Thanks"

- "What happened?"- the young woman asked, and Mikey smiled, breathing a little better.

- "We were talking about jizz"- Gerard covered his face with both hands as he heard his brother talking, and Joey laughed, nodding.

- "I'm so happy I was far away from you,"- Joey said and closed her eyes, pretending to be disgusted- "Anyway, Matthew says hi,"- she smiled at the band and continued eating.

- "Is he on set?"- Frank asked, staring at his food.

- "Table reading, tomorrow they start rehearsal and all those things I don't really remember 'cos I love him, but sometimes I don't follow all the steps into the shooting process."

They all smiled and nodded in silence for a moment. Gerard looked at Frank and lift his brows. Iero sighed and nodded.

- "So... do you wanna play with us for the next couple of months?"- Gerard just put out the question and stared directly into Joey's eyes. She looked at him surprised and didn't know what to say- "We have a very long tour, so we have to compromise to make it work."

- "I thought you hated me."

- "I don't hate you, none of us hates you... we just started with the wrong foot, but I think we can make it work,"- Gerard finished his words, nearly whispering. Joey's heart was racing. She couldn't believe she got the job, this was by far the best job Jo had ever have, and she couldn't wait to tell her parents. They were gonna be so proud.

- "I would love to play with you guys, thank you for the offering,"- Joey answered and grinned- "And again, I'm sorry for Tucker and all that shit."

- "Nah, forget it"- Ray quickly replied- "We know you are right for the band right now."

- "But if you are gonna be with us, we have to talk about the legal agreements"- Mikey said- "I hate that part, but we have to talk with our lawyers, do the paperwork."

- "Sure, not a problem."

- "And we are gonna need a tutorial to learn how to fucking spell your last name,"- Frank added and make everybody laugh. He looked at Joey smiling, and it felt like those few seconds were in slow motion, without any reason. Iero knew he was going to remember that particular moment for the rest of his life. He just didn't know why yet.

- "Yeah, what's the problem with your last name? when I called you yesterday, I had to practice it for a half-hour."

- "And you misspelled every single fucking letter in it, sorry"- she said to Ray and took a sip of her coke before she answered- "It's from Iceland, dad's from there. And my mom is from Colombia, which explains Maria Josefina ... I know, weirdest mix ever."

- "Wow, and what the fuck the last name thing?"- Frank asked and finished his food

- "Well, there your last name is defined by your father's name, so my dad's name is Sveinbjörn Sigmundsson"- the whole band stared at her with a blank look on their faces.

- "Sorry, what?"- Frank asked again

- "Sveinbjörn, it's a very common name."

- "Sure! sure it is!"- Iero laughed, and so did Joey.

- "Anyway, over there, your surname is your father's name and, in my case, the noun daughter, in Iceland, dottir, so my last name is Sveinbjörn, my dad's name, plus dottir, get it? Sveinbjörndottir, 'cos I am Sveinbjörn's daughter"- Gerard nodded and asked

- "And if you were a boy?"

- "I would be Sveinbjörnson... what's your dad's name?"

- "Donald"

- "In Iceland, you would be Gerard Donaldson"

- "Shit! my name would suck in Iceland!"- Frank grabbed his head and scratched it- "I would be Frank Frankson!"- and he burst out laughing

- "Dude! you are so lucky you are from Jersey!"- Ray said and turned to Joey- "So Maria Josefina is your mom's heritage and Sveinbjörndottir your father's."

- "Exactly, and that's why Joey is the best way to avoid people getting mistaken with my name."

- "Seems legit"- Gerard said and looked at everybody smiling. He turned to Joey and tried to study her face for a moment. Sure, her skin was paperwhite, and her eyes were slightly green, but she didn't look like the classic island chick you might imagine. Maybe there was too much Colombia on her.

- "What is it?"- she asked him when she found him staring at him.

- "Nothing"- he blushed and finished his coke- "I was just... trying to find any Icelandic feature on you"- she frowned immediately and didn't answer a word, obviously upset- "Sorry..."

Gerard drove back with Mikey. He wanted to avoid Ray being too nice at Joey, 'cos it still bothered him. And Mikey needed to talk about anything random with his brother to keep his mind busy.

- "Hey, maybe we should do something tonight"- Mikey asked his older brother.

- "Like what?"

- "I don't know... wanna go out? Maybe see some bands? Peter told me there are a few cool shows around this week."

- "Yeah, sure, let me ask Lynz if she wants to join us? what about Alicia?"- Mikey looked over the window and cleared his throat.

- "No, she told me she was meeting some friends tonight."

- "Everything ok?"

- "Yeah, it's all ok"- Mikey wasn't even making an effort to sound ok, but Gerard didn't notice- "So, thanks for what you did."

- "What did I do?"

- "You took an executive decision for the band"

- "I hope Frank doesn't kill me"

- "He won't"

- "And I stand by the fact Ray has a crush on her"

- "I don't think so"- Mikey's phone hummed, and he lazily read the text, "I'll stay with my parents tonight." Just what he needed, a confirmation of his lie. His wife was going to be nowhere to be seen that evening.

- "Hey, Lynz asked me to get something for dinner. Wanna grab something with us, and then we can go out?"

- "Sure."

Frank wouldn't stop talking. At some point during lunch, he just stopped trying to hate Joey. He ended up making joke after joke from the minute they got into the rented car until they reached the studio. He was so nice even Ray got worried. But then he thought Frank was probably overcompensating that girl for being such an ass before.

- "Ok so, Tucker ran naked from the studio, got into the car, and drove to get a burger wearing nothing but a cap?"- Joey nearly peed laughing at Frank's story.

- "Yeah!"- he reassured, laughing too- "And the studio was in this basement, and the family of our friend lived upstairs and completely saw him running around mooning everyone"- the drummer couldn't stop laughing, picturing her friend running naked all over.

- "Shitface never told me that story!!"

- "Oh, it's a good one!!!"- Frank chuckled and turned to look at Joey in the backseat- "So why were you touring with him?"

- "'Cos I had an awesome band, and we opened for Thursday for a few dates. I was still in college back then, and Tucker was like my older brother. He taught me a lot and saved me when I was drunk a couple of times, primarily for getting into fights."

Frank smiled and kept looking at Joey for a few seconds, and she cut him a big grin.

- "How come you don't have a band right now?"- Ray asked her and forced Frank to turn around and look at the road.

- "How says I don't?"

- "Do you?"- Joey laughed for a second.

- "No. My last band broke a few months ago, and I've been working on a few projects, but I haven't found people cool enough to share it with,"- Ray and Frank nodded in silence as they parked outside the studio.

- "Ok, kids. Back to work"- Ray said and opened the door. Joey did the same and smiled at Frank when he let her pass before him. She was sure he was extra nice to make up for being such an asshole with her before. And Frank was sure he had to stop being so nice at her 'cos he felt he was about to overstep the line, but he couldn't stop. It was like he stopped hating her to fully endorse a friendship with the girl one minute to the other

- "Get your fucking shit together, Frank."

Around five-thirty, Joey got into her car and sighed. She was exhausted and yet so fucking excited she felt she could run back to her place yelling. She had to wait until she was somewhere safe though, the band could walk out of the studio any minute, and it would be too embarrassing. Embarrassed herself in front of the band's first day working with them was something she wanted to avoid. It was too soon to show her real colors. No need to let them know she was a dork just yet. They had a whole tour to find out.

As she drove back home, she thought of everything that had happened that year. It surely didn't have a great start. Moving to Los Angeles to try to give it a go in music had been hard, really hard. If it hadn't been for her parent's support, she wouldn't have survived. But then she met Matthew, and it felt he could make everything better like magic. On top of that, she now had a real job playing with a huge band. That was a huge reason to celebrate.

- "So, what do you guys think?"- Gerard looked at the band and raised both eyebrows- "Is this shit gonna work?"

- "I don't see why not"- Mikey simply answered and grabbed his phone. Zero news from his wife. Not surprised either- Rehearsal was pretty well

- "No, I mean touring with a girl."

- "Oh, knock it, I thought we had passed that stupid problem,"- the youngest Way looked at brother pretty pissed- "Just grow up!"

- "Aren't you a little too sensitive?"- Gerard frowned and sat back on the couch.

- "No, I'm just tired. I don't wanna hear any more shit about how weird it will be touring with a girl or if Ray has a crush on her."

- "He totally does"- Frank quickly said, chuckling, though he felt slightly out of place saying that considering now he was extra nice with her too, and he didn't have a crush on her.

- "Very mature,"- Ray didn't pay attention to those words and looked at the band- "What we should be doing is preparing the setlist for the tour."

- "Is Brian coming tomorrow?"- Iero asked, walking around looking kind of bored.

- "Yeah, he said so, at ten, I think, to see the venues, schedules, crew. The usual,"- Ray answered and kept typing on his computer- "So, setlist?"- Frank's phone rang, and he walked away immediately.

- "Does anyone remember the name of the movie we watched the other day at my house?"- Gerard asked, looking at the ceiling.

- "The setlist"- Ray repeated.

- "No, it was the Hayao Miyazaki about the little girl."

- "Spirited away"- Ray quickly answered- "Now please! the setlist"

- "Do you think she was tripping?"- Ray looked at Gerard, annoyed, and closed the laptop- "What?"

- "I'm trying to work here, and you are not even listening!"

- "No one is. Why are you blaming me?"

- "Because you are not helping!!"

- "Wanna do the setlist, let's do the fucking setlist"- Gerard grabbed a notebook and a pen and started writing down the name of the songs- "There! A fucking setlist!"

- "What the fuck is your problem?"

- "I have no problem!!"- Gerard kind of shouted.

- "Can you guys please stop yelling?"- Frank asked, annoyed as he turned around, covering the cellphone and giving his bandmate a severe look.

- "Sorry"- Gerard whispered and look down at the sheet of paper.

- "What is going on there?"- Jamia asked her husband.

- "Shit has been kind of tense these last couple of days."

- "Why? preparing the tour?"

- "Yeah"

- "Did you guys find a new drummer?"- Frank sighed and walked outside to smoke a cigarette.

- "Yeah, we signed one today"

- "Great! What's his name?"

- "Joey, with an unpronounceable last name,"- Iero closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he added- "And it's her name... we booked a girl for the tour"- Jamia stayed quiet, processing the information- "She is friends with Tucker, he recommended her, and she is the best drummer we had."

- "Is she nice?"

- "Yeah, and her boyfriend is very nice too,"- Frank knew he had to add the boyfriend factor into the conversation quickly- "She is dating the nerd guy from Criminal Minds."

- "Really? he is hot"

- "I guess... anyway, we've been dealing with the drummer issue most of today, so shit is kind of sensitive."

- "Why? Someone didn't want to work with her?"

- "Well... I didn't"- Frank murmured

- "Why not?"

- "'Cos... I don't know. We've never included a girl in this band."

- "Maybe it's an excellent chance to do something different."

- "Wait, you are not upset we are touring with a girl?"- Frank frowned, not getting his wife's attitude.

- "Why should I?"

- "I don't know? 'cos bitches be crazy?"

- "Franklin Anthony Iero! you take that back!"

- Why are you middle naming me for?"

- "That was sexist!"

- "Sorry, I just thought you were going to be against this whole idea"

- "I think it's cool"

- "Really?"- Frank was in shock- "You are not going to freak out?"

- "No, I'm not going to freak out."

- "Thank you"

- "Besides, she has a really hot boyfriend. Do you think she can introduce him?"

- "Jamia Iero!!"

- "What? It's not like I'm gonna cheat on you. I just wanna stare at him... I bet he is tall"

- "Ok... that's weird for someone who has been a little too sensitive over fans lately,"- Frank joked, but that might have been just a huge mistake.

- "What are you saying? That I'm a psycho about girls around you?"

- "No, no, no honey, it was just a joke"

- "An awful joke"

- "I'm sorry"- Frank took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed- "How are the babies?"

- "Sleeping... I was gonna eat dinner and go to bed too 'cos I'm too fucking tired."

- "You should. Is your mom staying at home with you tonight?"

- "No, Evan is here today. He did some grocery shopping and cooked dinner"

- "He is awesome"

- "Yeah, he is on diaper duty until one, so I better get some rest"

- "Go, honey, talk to you tomorrow, ok?"

- "What are you gonna do tonight?"

- "Drive back to the hotel and play videogames with Ray"

- "Exciting"- Frank chuckled at his wife's words and stubbed out his cigarette.

- "Love you, honey"

- "Love you too"

Jamia was full of it. She hated the idea of Frank touring with a girl, but she knew making a tantrum was worse. They had had too many arguments about female fans already. The last thing she needed was to start a new one. But how was she going to deal with this new drummer? She seemed to be a major threat.

Joey walked into her apartment and jumped around in hyperventilation. She had tried her best to control her emotions all the way back home, but after she closed the door behind her back, there was no way she could stop her excitement.

- "I can't fucking believe this!!"- she yelled and jumped around the place until she finally laid on her bed and hugged a pillow. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like a loser. And for the first time ever, she could call her dad and make him proud, giving him the news of her new job.

Taglist: @all-tings-diego

[iceeckos12]

Prompt: Jongerrymartin but make it noir.

HI PIT. this was probably not what you were expecting, but hope you enjoy *jazz hands* this is current jongerry, pre-jgm

please let me know if i should tag anything!

Martin stared up at the faded gold lettering painted on the door, wiping a clammy palm against the fabric of his trousers. The other gripped his manila folder tightly, refusing to loosen his grip for even a second, not after all the trouble he’d gone through to get it.

Delano & Sims, the words read. Private Detectives.

He’d talked to one of them over the phone yesterday, a man with an achingly posh accent, who’d said to come at precisely fourteen hundred hours and not a moment later. That clipped, dry tone had almost been enough to scare him off, but...no, he needed this too much to run away.

Martin took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called, and he pushed inside.

The first thing he noticed were the swirls of cigarette smoke so thick that the weak light overhead glowed a thin silver. His eyes immediately began to water at the intensity of the smell, and he desperately wanted to bury his nose in his collar.

There was an exasperated sigh from one shrouded corner of the room, and then, “Christ—Jon, open the window, would you?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” There was a clatter as the blinds lifted, and then a solid thunk, and suddenly fresh air and natural light was pouring through the open window, throwing the room in stark relief.

“Sorry about that,” the man next to the window said, leaning heavily on a handsome wooden cane. He was just a wisp of a thing, dressed in a sweater vest like he was some sort of professional academic, with salt and pepper grey hair and dark, keen eyes. “Forgot we had someone coming.”

This must be the person I talked to over the phone, Martin realized. Sims.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill our clients, Jon.” He quickly turned to look at Delano—who else could it be?—who was stepping away from the fan now juddering to life, swirling the quickly dissipating smoke. It was almost startling how different the two partners were; where Sims was thin and short, Delano was tall and wiry, with inky black hair and cool, gunmetal eyes. The weathered leather trench coat and chunky boots had obviously seen some better days.  “We need all the ones we can get.”

Martin’s face flushed as he was struck by how unfairly attractive these two people were.

“Duly noted,” Sims drawled, limping over to the heavy desk stacked high with papers. He set the cane aside and propped himself against it with a quiet sigh, then gestured toward one of the ratty looking chairs. “Take a seat, Mr. Blackwood.”

Martin shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I don’t…”

“No need to stand on decorum, not around here.” Delano pointedly plopped into the chair behind the desk, grin wide and toothy. “Jon just likes to pretend that we’re more professional than we actually are.”

“We’re professional,” Sims protested, sounding deeply offended. “Just...unorthodox.”

“Well, alright,” Martin said, and lowered into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Delano cleared his throat. “Right. So what brings you to us, Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin thought for a moment, not wanting to speak rashly, or to give away anything too personal. “Well, I’ve heard rumors that you two are capable of...discretion, so to speak, and I would prefer that this doesn’t get spread around.”

“Ah.” Sims’ eyes quickly flicked up and down his body, one eyebrow raising. “Out of curiosity, can I ask who referred you to us?”

“Tim Stoker?” Martin shuffled. “He said that you helped him out of a similar bind not too long ago.”

Sims and Delano glanced at each other, their eyebrows doing a complicated little dance, though what information could’ve been conveyed through such a medium, Martin had no clue. They turned to look at him again in unison, expressions very serious.

“When you say similar…” Delano trailed off.

Martin immediately shook his head. “Oh, nothing to do with the Circus. I’m not stupid enough to get involved with them after what happened with Tim and his brother.”

They both relaxed immediately.

“That’s good for you,” Delano told him. “We’ve run afoul of Nikola and her merry band far too many times for comfort. If you’d said you’d gotten on her bad side, I’m afraid we would’ve had to ask you to leave.”

Martin glanced at Sims, who was staring very hard at his feet, then Delano, who was observing him calmly, patiently, the way a bird of prey sights down a mouse. “Oh.”

“Quite,” Sims murmured.

“Anyway,” Delano gave a wide, grandiose gesture. “Please. Why have you come to us?”

The manila folder suddenly felt very, very heavy, and he fiddled with one of the corners, rubbing the material between his fingers. “Well...I work for this, um, this shipping company. I mostly do busywork, administrative tasks, that sort of thing. It’s not very glamorous, but it—it pays really well, despite the company being kind of small.” Martin traced the grain of the paper with one finger. “I think it handles a lot of….specialty items.”

“And the name of this company?” Sims asked, pen poised over the little notebook he’d appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Anxiety plummeted his stomach into his toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable giving away that information.”

Delano’s eyebrows rose. “Discretion, remember? Besides, we’ll need to know if we’re going to be able to help you.”

“If we decide to help you,” Sims muttered.

Martin took a few fortifying breaths, swallowing the nausea down. “Right,” he murmured. “Right. It’s, um...Tundra shipping company? Run by Mr. Peter Lukas.”

Sims went very, very still, pen poised above his notebook, expression fixed like it’d been molded into his face. Delano loomed forward, the gunmetal of his eyes gleaming like the sun reflecting off of a loaded barrel. “Is that so?”

Martin glanced toward Sims, wondering at his demeanor, then turned back to Delano and nodded. “Yeah. You two—you know him?”

“Do we.” Delano let out a dry chuckle. “Continue.”

“Right.” Martin shook his head. “Well, one day I was doing some bookkeeping, just...routine stuff, you know? But I noticed something off with the numbers, like...really wrong. And I double checked my math several times just to make sure, but…” he swallowed. “I think that someone may be cooking the books, or...or something. I don’t know.

“Anyway, I went back the next day but the numbers had been changed, and—and Mr. Lukas called me into his office and said some really weird stuff that I think may have been a threat? It was hard to tell.” Martin shook his head, biting his lip. “There’s been other stuff, too. Contracts with companies that I know don’t exist, visitors at odd hours. I think something really rotten is going on, but I don’t think that I can handle it myself.”

Delano and Sims shared an unhappy look. Then Sims pushed away from the desk and began to circle the perimeter of the room, his eyebrows furrowing into a thunderstorm on his brow.

“We’d love to finally be able to pin something substantial on the bastard—on Lukas,” Delano said. “But insinuating those types of claims without a shred of evidence...that’s a nonstarter. We’re going to need a little bit more than that.”

“But I do have evidence?” Martin asked, lifting the manila folder. “I took photocopies of the pages, and notated where the discrepancies were.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t about to just write on official financial records. There’s also some of the weird contracts I was talking about. I kept copies of everything.”

Sims, who’d walked out of sight while Martin had been talking, suddenly appeared behind him, reaching for the folder. “Can I see?”

“Be careful with it, that’s the only copy,” Martin said nervously, but handed it over.

Sims walked back over to the desk, hopped up on the edge, and eagerly tipped the contents of the folder on the space between him and Delano. They quickly sifted through the papers, wordlessly handing things to each other like a seamless, well-oiled machine.

“This is good.” Delano’s voice was almost hushed, almost awed. “This is...really good, actually.”

“But you see why I can’t go to the police with this, right?” Martin twisted his hands fitfully. “You see why I need your help.”

“Of course not,” Sims said dismissively, though there was an eager gleam in his eyes. “The police are so deep in Lukas’ pocket you might as well have kissed your life goodbye if you’d gone to them.”

“Oh.” Martin swallowed, trying and failing to come up with anything more intelligent than that. “Oh.”

Delano drummed his fingers against the desk pensively. “Speaking of, it wouldn’t be a good idea to pursue this recklessly. We appreciate you bringing this to us, but it does put you in a significant amount of danger. Do you have friends or family outside the country you can stay with, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Um…” He had cousins in Poland, he was pretty sure. Whether or not they would take him in was another question entirely. “Possibly.”

Sims reluctantly gathered the papers up and slid them back into the manila folder, before holding it out. “Come back when you’ve got something lined up.”

Martin lifted a quelling hand as he got to his feet. “I’d...prefer you hold onto it, honestly. It’s probably safer with you.”

Sims blinked, then shrugged and set the folder back down. “I see.”

“We’ll be seeing you later, Mr. Blackwood.” Delano’s grin was a sharp, toothy thing. Despite its grimness, Martin found himself inexplicably comforted by it.

“Please,” he corrected before he could help himself. “Call me Martin.”

-0-

“So,” Gerry said, long after Martin had left and the excitement had faded. He filled a glass with some ice, then tipped a finger of whisky over the top. “What do you think?”

“I don’t trust him,” Jon said almost before Gerry had finished talking, accepting the glass with a quiet murmur of thanks. “It’s a bit too good to be true. After years of searching, someone just...emerges with hard evidence of Peter’s wrongdoings?” An incredulous snort. “I don’t think so.”

Gerry propped himself up against the edge of the desk, staring at the dark bags under his partner’s eyes, the cynical curve of his mouth. He looked exhausted. “You never know,” he said mildly, taking a sip of his whiskey sour before continuing. “I think we’re about due for a lucky break.”

“We don’t get lucky breaks. We get fooled into thinking that we have a lucky break, only to get royally fucked later,” Jon snapped, thumping his cane against the ground for emphasis. “You should know that by now.”

Gerry frowned. “Don’t take this out on me.”

Jon metaphorical hackles went up, and for a moment it looked as though he were about to start shouting—but then he abruptly deflated and looked away. “No, you’re right, it’s just…”

Gerry sighed. It was difficult to stay angry at Jon when he bore such a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy. “I get it.”

They fell silent for a moment, sipping their drinks, lost in their respective thoughts.

“Shall we go?” Gerry asked, setting his glass aside.

Jon paused for a moment longer, before letting out a long, gusty sigh and draining what was left in his drink. “Sure.”

The elevator was still broken, so unfortunately they had to take the stairs. While Gerry knew better than to offer any assistance, his heart still clenched at how tight with pain Jon’s jaw had gone by the time they reached the bottom. They stopped for a few seconds to let Jon get his breath back, before continuing toward home.

About a block away from the office, they froze at the sound of pounding footsteps growing unmistakably closer.

“Hear that?” Jon murmured out of the corner of his mouth, the dying light of the sun glinting off the switchblade in his free hand.

“Mmhm,” Gerry hummed, slipping a hand into his pocket.

Martin was very, very lucky that Gerry recognized him as he rounded the corner; otherwise, it was very likely that Jon would’ve run him through. As it was, Martin crashed into them both, gasping frantically for air, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with abject terror.

“Martin?” Jon demanded, shoving the switchblade away. “What the hell are you—”

“They’re after me,” Martin gasped out, scrabbling at Gerry’s coat. “They—I don’t know how they found out, but they, Peter, he—”

“Shit,” Gerry muttered, suddenly becoming aware of the second set of pounding footsteps growing nearer. He took a moment to assess their surroundings, before grabbing Martin’s shoulders and hauling him into the nearby alley. “Martin, hide behind that dumpster. Jon, distraction time.”

Despite the situation, Jon’s eyes lit up with an exhilarated gleam. Gerry had just enough time to fondly think, adrenaline junkie, before Jon tucked his cane over his wrist, twisted his hands in Gerry’s lapels, and shoved him against the wall for a bruising kiss.

Gerry gasped into Jon’s mouth, his hands instinctively falling to cup Jon’s slim hips. He deepened the kiss, humming encouragingly when Jon shoved his jacket over his shoulders, exposing the thin black t-shirt beneath.

Jon was just beginning to press little kisses down the juncture of his jaw and neck when the harsh beam of a torch fell on them. Jon, who’d been a drama queen long before he’d joined am dram in uni, pulled away with a theatrical gasp, his annoyance almost startlingly genuine. Gerry tucked his face out of the way and adjusted his jacket, affecting embarrassment.

“Do you mind?” Jon asked.

“Oh,” the person on the other end of the torch said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable. Gerry tried to peek a look, but the beam was too strong for him to see into the darkness beyond it. “Sorry to disturb you sirs, um...you wouldn’t happen to have seen a person—?”

“No, we haven’t seen a person.” Keeping one hand curled in Gerry’s jacket, Jon took a step back, lifting his chin defiantly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we were busy.”

“Right,” the person muttered, and then the torchlight abruptly vanished, dropping them once more into the dying light of the sun.

They stood there for a moment, Jon breathing hard, cheeks flushed. Gerry tipped his head back against the wall, letting his eyes flutter shut as his pumping heart slowed.

Then the grip in his collar loosened, and Jon let out a pained groan and sank against the wall. “Fuck.”

“Alright, take it easy,” Gerry murmured. He pressed a kiss against Jon’s hair and rubbed a soothing hand against his back. “You did beautifully.” Then louder, “Martin, you can come out now.”

There was a brief pause, and then a shadow tentatively emerged from behind the dumpster. Martin looked far less rattled than he had when he’d first run around the corner, though there was still a healthy flush to his cheeks. He peered up the alley, wringing his hands. “Are they…”

“For now,” Jon said, grimacing as he dug his knuckles into the tight muscles. “We should leave before they get back.”

Martin’s eyes honed in on him. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jon snapped, straightening. “You should be more worried about yourself. You can’t go home, right?”

The question seemed to remind Martin of the current situation, because his eyes went a little wild again. “No, they...I left to do a bit of shopping, and then came back and, and there they were.”

They fell silent for a moment, considering that.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” Jon said brusquely. “You’ll have to come home with us.”

“What?” Martin gaped.

Gerry was already nodding. “We don’t have much room, but we can make up the couch for you.”

That only seemed to make Martin all the more aghast. “Wait! Wait, won’t that put you in danger?”

Gerry looked up and met Jon’s gaze.

“We have...a certain degree of protection,” Gerry hazarded delicately. “It won’t do much against the likes of Peter himself, but lesser threats…”

“You’ll be fine,” Jon completed. “Now unless you want to run into them again, we had better get going.”

Martin glanced mutely between them, looking like he wanted nothing more than to argue. Then his shoulders slumped, probably realizing that he had no other choice considering how dire the situation was.

“Alright,” he murmured, defeated. “Let’s go.”

[kitakataramen]

大きいサイズ！！！ PLUS-SIZE SHOPPING IN JAPAN

*This post is intended to be helpful for people already living in Japan who need to find everyday clothing, it’s not going to be useful for people living outside Japan who want to buy kawaii Tokyo fashion. This is also mainly geared toward women’s clothing, as it’s harder to find than men’s plus size clothing, but some of the stores and sites I mention here will be useful for plus size guys as well!

So let’s start at the beginning.

JP SIZING

Japanese sizes in general go from S, M, L, and plus sizes will be indicated from LL (extra large) all the way to 10L. For reference purposes on this post, I am a size 16/18 in CAN/US sizing, a 22 in UK sizing, and a JP size 5L for most plus-size brands, although the sizes are not standardized across brands (meaning that for some brands, a 5L will be either too big or too small). 

If you are above a size 3L, which is the largest size they stock in most regular stores (Uniqlo, for example, only stocks S, M, L, and XL for women*, so I don’t fit into any of their clothes) you will have to do most of your shopping online! There *are* physical plus-size stores around, though, so keep an eye out for stores that look like this:

大きいサイズ  (おおきいサイズ)　- plus-size (lit. large size)

レディースの大きいサイズ 　- Ladies’ large size

メンズの大きいサイズ     - Mens’ large size

Here’s some useful Japanese you can use while shopping in a physical store: 

大きいサイズがありますか？ Do you sell large size clothes?

これのもっと大きいサイズ、ありますか？ Do you have this in a larger size?

It can be a bit difficult finding your size in Japan, but don’t give up! Plus size Japanese women *do* exist and they look cute as heck, and so can you.

PHYSICAL STORES

H&M Japan (they use S, M, L, XL sizing or US sizes up to 16, so I would say around a 4L Japanese size. I am able to fit into some of their clothing based on the cut and style of the garment, but most of their tops/dresses are too tight in the chest for me). Good for a variety of styles, from work clothes to casual

しまむら 　- They carry up to a 4L, good for basics and casuals

青山 (あおやま）　- Great for work/business attire. (They call their plus-size line クイーンサイズ which I find extremely adorable omg). Their sizing is a bit different as they carry from 19号～ 37号, but the sizing charts should help you figure out which size you need.

PUNYUS    - There are only a few of these stores around, in big cities like Tokyo and Osaka, but I love this brand so I’ll be talking about their online store later in the post. The brand was established by Naomi Watanabe, one of Japan’s foremost plus-size comedians and TV personalities, and I absolutely LOVE her. Punyus uses their own sizing in 1, 2, 3, or 4. (I am usually a 2, but I always check the measurements for each garment very carefully because for some items I am a 3 or 4).

*Uniqlo carries up to a 4L in men’s sizes, but you usually have to order the larger sizes online as they don’t stock them in the regular stores.)

There are obviously way more stores than this that carry plus-sizes, and most of them will have the 大きいサイズ  sign right on the outside of the store. I’ve even managed to find some cute items in the  大きいサイズ  section of my local grocery/department store of all places (although don’t expect much from department stores, most of the fashion in these places will be very tame grandma clothes).

Now, let’s get into online shopping, which is the easiest method but can be a little tricky. The first thing you need to do is figure out your measurements, as the majority of online products will have a detailed size chart that is very useful for ensuring a good fit without trying it on.

SIZE CHARTS

Size charts will look like this, and will use centimetres:

サイズ表記 　（サイズひょうき） - size notation

バスト    - bust (the measurement around your chest)

肩幅　（かたはば）- shoulder width (measurement from shoulder to shoulder)

袖丈　（そでたけ） - sleeve length

着丈　（きたけ）- length (of the whole garment, Japanese ones tend to run short. I’m not even particularly tall but a lot of shirts tend to fit like crop tops here)

袖幅　（そではば）- sleeve width

袖口　（そでぐち）- cuff

幅裾　（はばすそ）- hem width

回り　（まわり）- circumference (measurement around the bottom) 

ウエスト    - waist

ヒップ     - hips

In general, the measurements that’ll be most useful will be bust, waist, hips, and length of the garment. As you can see on the model below, those measurements make her a size 3L. My measurements are 128-106-135 and I’m 168cm tall so I’m usually a 5L.

Once you know your measurements, it’s time to start browsing! I’ll briefly introduce my top picks for useful online stores.

ONLINE STORES

1. Nissen

This website is great and I use it all the time. It’s like an online shopping mall that carries the plus size options from a bunch of different brands, so you can just check here instead of browsing each brand individually. 

You can search by size, category, colour- it’s super convenient and easy, and the website is also available in English. 

SHOES

This site also has great options for shoes above 25cm (which is the largest size they sell in most shoe stores for women). My shoe size is 26.5cm with 4E width (extra wide) and I can easily find shoes here.

TALL SIZES

I mentioned before that some of the shirts here tend to fit fairly short, even for my 168cm (5′6″) height. Never fear, there are tall size options as well.

The tall sizes will be annotated with a TT next to it- as you can see, the first 3 options in the picture are MTT - 5LTT, and the 4th one doesn’t have the TT, so it will be a normal length. Again, you can just click on the item and go to the size chart to check the length in cm to see if it will fit.

2. Alinoma

Very similar to Nissen in that it gathers clothing from different brands all right here on the same site, and you can also use the parameters along the side to customize your search by size, category, colour, etc. 

One of my favourite brands (available from both sites) is タベルノスキー、which has super cute stuff~

3. PUNYUS Online Store

The clothes here are more trendy, playful, casual clothes, and I love that they use larger plus-size models than some of the other sites (including Naomi Watanabe herself). I buy a lot of non-work clothes from here.

*Note that all these sites have really reasonable shipping fees within Japan and also have frequent sales, as well. And they’re really easy to use with google translate.

INNER WEAR

Now, as for the busty gal trying to find bras and lingerie in Japan...

Don’t worry!!! I’ve found that most lingerie stores don’t stock my size, but again, it’s possible to order them online using either Nissen or Alinoma. You’ll want to look for the インナー tab, and ta-da! (Just keep in mind that the band in Japan is measured in cm).

To wrap up, I’d just like to reiterate that if you are plus-size in Japan and having trouble finding clothes, you’re not alone! There are lots of us here and there *are* brands out there that make cute clothes for us. If you see something you like in a store, go in and check it! The sizing is not only wildly different between brands, but it can even be different between different garments in the same brand. Don’t be afraid to try things on! You might be surprised by what actually fits and looks good.

Happy shopping!

[nightswithkookmin]

Hey Goldy, i'm positive Yoongi isn't straight and has been fairly open about it from the early years. So do u think that Yoongi could've influenced Jikook (especially Jimin cuz he is very close to him) in any sort of way on their journey?

Jimin is VERY close to Yoongi

Thank you so much for this statement😭

I feel seen and heard🤧

Not a lot of Jokers out here appreciate Yoonmin's bond😭😭😭😭

The disrespect! How dare they!

In reality, Yoonmin is one of the best ships that reflects the hyung dongsaeng dynamic perfectly in BTS in my opinion- Jinkook and Yoonkook, NamTae are heavy contenders I'd say but Yoonmin is right up there with them. Love Jihope too- if they could cut down on the flirting chilee.

No JHOPE I don't want you to call Jimin sexy or look at him like you want to gobble him with a glass of Sprite- it's weird😭😭😭

But also don't stop

From Suga 'bullying' Jimin, teasing him, praising him, mentoring him, the bickering- he is the biggest PJM right next to JK and Namjoon. I said what I said.

So thank you for this. I literally cried.

Feel so good to hear someone say that.

I'm having an existential crisis at the moment and Yoonmin is what is getting me through it at the moment.

People need to stop invalidating the members' bond. Seriously. Not cool. They all have beautiful dynamics real or not.

But he's gay? 🤔

You believe Suga is gay??

Damn.

He's queer and has been pretty open about it from the beginning???

A lot of people assume that about him actually. I think it's interesting.

Did he influence Jikook, Jimin in anyway...

If by influence you mean support then yes. I think he was and has been very supportive of Jimin and JK individually and has helped them embrace and make sense of certain aspects of themselves.

I think he's more understanding than most of the challenges and difficulties of being young and uncertain of who you are growing up under public scrutiny and in a highly hostile environment.

I think he is wise beyond his age and I have a ton of love and respect for him as both a person and an artist.

I love 'People' so much...

I think the most Iconic thing he's said so far to me is this totally woke, fanservice questioning and ridiculing statement:

'I didn't want to wear the maid outfit. I was surprised when they said it's for the fans. We don't have any interest in seeing girls wear men's clothes so why does the fans want us to wear women's clothes?'

It's weird. Fanservice is weird.

My least favorite moment of his is when he admonished JK not to say things like he'd want a tattoo when he grows up because the fans wouldn't like that.

I found that very contradictory for someone who's life motto is nevermind- or is it I don't give a shit?😏

Find it equally triggering whenever he teases JK about crying too much or being a cry baby as if it's wrong for men to cry. There's nothing wrong with shedding tears. Men cry too.

Then the bit about him not wanting tattoos or just a dot on his toe or feet or something because he has things he might want to do post BTS that having a tattoo would just be an inconvenience... quite conservative I'd say.

He don't give a fuck but then he gives a fuck?

Mans gotta be a realist or I'd chalk up these inconsistencies in his values to the clash between his Persona and his real self.

To be fair, he's not the only one. That conflict plays out in almost every member's outlook.

I see Yoongi as that one person who'd say to a person, go for it but end that advice with a caveat such as, 'but understand people will hate you for it' or some truth along those lies.

He places consequences right next to desire and as long as the person is not oblivious to and can bare the consequences of their actions, decisions and choices then I think he'd ask them to go for it and stand in their truth.

That much I know is his value and I can see how that might have impacted both JM and JK. But rather than encourage them to take risks, I think he pushes them to seize opportunities and put themselves outside- there's a difference there. Their not one and the same.

More than anyone in BTS, I think he understands the gravity of being queer, closeted or being in a relationship with a bandmate in the industry they work in.

I think he is much mature enough to understand the consequences of over attachment and risks of detachment and that too plays out in the way Jikook carry themselves around in the group.

Other than that, I think he minds his business most times.

Do I think he is open minded about conversations on sexuality? Absolutely.

But that's as far as I can go on the topic.

I do not believe he is queer and I'm not convinced in anyway he is pansexual or bisexual either- don't quote his song lyrics to me I already know. Lol.

Boy or girl my tongue will send you to hongkong....

And then his interviews about what he finds attractive in women??

'... it's not limited to boys or girls?'

Lolololololololol

I think that bit was heavily misconstrued.

'I'M NOT GAY'

This was his response when he was asked to talk about moments his heart skipped because of JHOPE. Similar to moments when the members had said their they almost fell for a band mate perhaps.

Other translations of that statement he made in the interview was, 'since we are both men, how can my heart throb for a man' and then he laughs it off.

Knowing Suga, I think he probably meant that in the most ridiculing, most mocking way possible- these interviewers be asking some stupid questions sometimes.

But imagine Suga saying that with two gay members sitting right next to him in that interview and how these members would feel hearing him say that about homosexuality.

One thing about BTS, if they be making loud openly 'woke' statements, take a shovel to their past- it's usually because they've messed up somewhere and are simply acting conscious of the things they say that can come across as problematic. In my opinion.

They do learn and grow from their mistakes. That's one thing I love about BTS.

They've all had their problematic moments as I keep saying.

To me, this interview moment would be one of such said problematic moments if not one very homophobic moment of Suga's- if the translations were right I mean. chileee. Lemme shut up. Lol.

And before anyone says but JK said the same thing too...

JK had a 'fear' of coming across as Gay in his early years. Part of the reason he wanted JM on the west of his east when the cameras came around- in my opinion.

He'd stutter when similar 'gay' questions were thrown his way- prompting Jimin to ask him straight away not to answer said question when an interviewer asked him.

You pair that with some of the members describing him as 'wanting to be manly' or appear like a manly man and it's not hard to figure out what was going on with him.

He'd pause and look at JM funny when JM would describe their relationship as in between friends and romance...

Jimin had to tell him to relax and that it was normal for men to say 'love' to men without it being weird or gay.

He knew gayism was a thing. He simply didn't want to be viewed as one- either because of his own repressed homosexual desires, in which case that would be internalized homophobia or he really really didn't like being thought of as gay- homophobia.

Suga's is different.

He either genuinely didn't know gay was a thing or that some men's heart actually beat for other men- seems to me he thought the idea of a man's heart skipping for another man absurd or impossible- or dude thought he was being a smart pants with that remark. Lol.

Baring his age in mind at the time of the interview, that in anyway reflects his ideals or assumptions about sexuality. That heterosexuality is D norm. That straight is all he can be or should be thought of as- He clearly hasn't read the blogs. He's in for a rude awakening.

If JK had this ideology about sexuality I think he would have been able to hide his sexuality better and not freak out each time people made jokes about it💀

Suga's said explicitly he is attracted to gal's who wear headphones, doesn't like gals who play hard to get- said he'd kick em if they didn't quit playing hard to get (misogynistic and abusive lyrics there but it's hiphop- let's not talk about that) finds it ridiculous that men should wear female clothes, thinks 'men' shouldn't cry.... all the making of a fine gay man😃

Should we chalk it up to internalized homophobia then??

I wouldn't.

A very dedicated Sope shipper will tell you, he said what he said to cover the fact he is gay so there's that. Lol.

I'm just not convinced Suga is part of the community but I think he is open minded now, leans less into his conservative values and more towards progressive values and thoughts.

I don't think he in any way shape or form 'influenced' Jikook to be gay or to do the gay if that's what you were asking.

But I do respect your opinion on Suga. I think we are all free to assume whatever we want in this case.

I might be wrong about him. You might be wrong about him or we could all be right. We will never know.

Thanks for the ask.

Wasn't comfortable answering it though. Lol.

I don't like when I have to watch what I say.

Sigh.

Signed,

GOLDY

[the-darklings]

*kicks down your door* Can I get a whole alphabet with the psycho husband please?? (Not the sandy one thanks) 🤡

asking for lucien & trash-talking the elder? iconic behaviour. so this is for npfh!lucien/reader but the inbox still open for other characters/ships (or combos)

ADORABLE (what do they find especially endearing?)

endearing isn't a word often associated with Lucien but if there's one thing he might later down the line find somewhat amusing and kinda cute it's the willingness to oppose him, especially in a physical sense. there's little chance to win against him but deep down he might find that willingness to not back down cute/admirable, even if it's likely to come out as sardonic on his part

BARGAIN (how do they get their way?)

well, he's good at getting his way, lets just say that. towards others he's usually downright menacing but Lucien has a presence that's frightening on a good day, much less if he's actually angry. in a relationship he's def more maniable but not by much. usually if he sees something has to go one way, he's stuck in that mindset for a while, he's too individualistic for anything else which can def cause arguments/disagreements

COMMUNICATE (what is their love language?)

physical touch is a big one for him. because he allows very few lay hands on him after the kind of life he's had, so him taking pleasure from your touch is the biggest and surest way to know he cares and wants you. be it a gentle touch (rare but possible) or meaner more rough handling (careful enough not to hurt but only just), it's his secondary language of communication since he's not the talkative one especially about feelings

DEVOTED (how do they show they're serious?)

you know. just... trust me, you really know. Lucien makes no exceptions for anyone (except clara/v) so if you're his person the mere way he looks at you is different, the air around you for him is different. a massive cat that hates everyone else purring in your lap energy. there's also the fact that he actually seeks you out while he usually very much prefers to be completely alone.

ENCHANTED (what first caught their eye?)

it's unlikely the first impression was a positive either from his side or yours, or both. he doesn't really see or take note of others often. people are more background noise for him after being locked up for so long so he's still learning in that regard. but one thing you would def need with Lucien is perseverance and patience, so that dedication not to give up on him despite the prickly edges is likely the first thing he would take note of. physically you can be as beautiful as you want, he won't care about that. lust for him is nothing more than an itch. you could try and wear him down and get him to fuck you but don't expect it to mean anything to him or for him to come back for seconds, he doesn't operate that way.

FLIRTY (how do they flirt?)

his flirting is honestly more sly, mean-edged wordplay. he's not the flirty type to begin with so don't expect anything flustering (unless you're more into the rough-spoken/meaner wordplay) but you being clingy after he returns from a long period away would certainly prompt a few comments.

GENTLE (how do they provide comfort?)

again, not particularly amazing with words, and even worse with comfort. he's not the mopey type and will not sit around handing you tissues. if someone hurt you? they're dead, simple as. but if it's being upset by some outside factor, he would likely have a hard time wrapping his mind around it (more so a consequence of his lifestyle/upbringing) so the more likely course of action would be a distraction. whether this is physical or activity-based is up to you.

HOT (what is their favourite look on their partner?)

something easy for him to rip off your body, also enjoys you naked in nothing but his shirts. he's really tall (like the man is 6.1 1/5) so anything of his usually hangs down to your tighs. he also likes the easy access : )

INTIMATE (what kind of date do they like?)

he's not really the dating type. spending time together in silence or murmurs of quiet conversation is usually as close you come to a date. sometimes, if needed for a job for the pit, you might tag along if he needs to go pay a visit at a club etc. then maybe some dancing. he's not half bad at it, either. but he def enjoys watching you if you dance, his eyes are unlikely to slip away once.

JEALOUS (how jealous are they? how do they show it?)

oh, he gets jealous alright. if you're the exception, you're the exception. he won't share you with anyone except clara but that's a topic for another time. he's not about to go alpha male type but the air around him is chilling. he trusts you (if you managed to wear him down enough to be with him, he knows you're not some flimsy wet wipe who's easily swayed) but the other party can def get into trouble. also most certainly expect some rough sex that evening, he's far greedier but equally so more attentive.

KARMA (how do they apologize?)

he has a hard time apologising. not because he can't accept the fact that he's done something wrong/is prideful but mainly because things people do get upset about often seem so trivial to him. again, more so a byproduct of the life he's had opposed to any actual unwillingness to say sorry. actual words would likely only leave his lips if something major has happened.

LUST (favourite thing about their partner?)

willingness to stick by him because he knows full well he's not the easiest crayon in the box to colour your life with. physically, likely laugh and durability : )

MEMORY (what's their favourite memory together?)

likely the first kiss but for different reasons. for you, it's a victory and confirmation you're feelings are not once sided after a sizable struggle to get closer to him while for him it's likely the first time in years he's felt a physical draw that goes beyond just wanting to scratch an itch. also, first person besides clara he felt anything other than indifference or hatred towards. the memory itself is a searing thing infused with passion so it's certainly one to remember.

NORMAL (what does a normal day look like for them?)

there's no such thing as "normal" with him. Lucien isn't around often (at least not initially or for a while) so time together is savoured. Lucien tends to wake up early (he doesn't sleep much in general) and does long morning workouts to burn off the edge of violence constantly swimming in his blood. the most likely way to wake up in the mornings if he's around is to feel his mouth and hand on your or hear the shower start. he's not opposed to you joining him.

OBVIOUS (how do they show they're together?)

while Lucien is not the most PDA-friendly person, he would eventually get used to someone's presence at his side and, as such, not move away from any physical touch outright. nor does he mind - and even prefers - to touch you occasionally in public. these displays are usually only limited to when you're home at the pit of vipers, however, as there's still safety and prying eyes to consider.

PEACE (how do they relax together?)

usually in his room, regardless of the actual activity. Lucien enjoys fresh air though (old lingering unease about being trapped between walls) so expect to spend a fair amount of time upon the Pit of Viper's roof terrace and surrounded by clara's plants, flowers and herbs. there's bustling sounds of the city around you but it's like a small corner of paradise that's almost kissing the skyline.

QUIET (what can they do together without talking?)

Lucien enjoys training a fair amount to help himself focus and burn energy off, so he would be happy for you to join in or simply watch. in the same vein, he doesn't enjoy silences (despite not being very talkative himself) so he does listen to a fair amount of music; anything to fill the quiet. he would be happy to try some of your hobbies eventually too, as long as they're not too irritating.

ROMANTIC (what kind of gifts do they give?)

once more not typical boyfriend material where you can be expected to be pampered and showered with gifts. presents from lucien are few and far in between (and pretty much non-existent during initial paces of relationship) he doesn't believe loyalty can be expressed in presence, and loyalty is higher for him on the scale than love. that being said, eventually, you can def expect one or two things down the line. they're more like to be meaningful and have meaning. likely a show that though he's not the most chatty-cat out there, he always listens and nothing escapes his notice, especially when it's you.

SLEEP (how do they sleep together?)

with you likely tucked under his chin or his arm an iron band around your waist holding you to him. this does take a while to fully bloom into effect though since initially he can be a bit callous in this regard.

THOUGHTFUL (what small things do they do for each other?)

the big one Lucien appreciates more than most is the ability to recognise when he needs space because his mindset is in a dark place. for you, it's the smaller things like finding covers pulled up over your naked body although the other side of the bed is long since cool. or how despite you both knowing he needs to leave, the ever-building sense that he lingers for as long as he can each time, as if some part of him isn't happy to be leaving as it once was.

UNITY (what would their wedding be like?)

not the marrying type. just straight up. again believes loyalty is expressed in a different sense and his devotion is concrete, so he sees little reason to attach any labels or papers on what you have.

VIBRANT (what always makes them smile?)

very little does. with what he's been through his smiles are elusive and incredibly hard to come back (unless they're more insincere/sarcastic things because then they're more common) but way down the line there might be few instances when you feel his mouth stretching against one side of your head if you rush to greet him after one of his returns. they're private and tucked away from anyone's eyes, however.

WHISPER (what pet names and compliments do they use?)

"pretty girl" : )

XOXO (how do they kiss?)

except bruising and hard, very intense. lip bites. few chances to draw breath because he's on you at once. he very much enjoys it if its intensity returned. scratch those nails down his neck, rip at his hair - he welcomes all of it.

YEARN (what do they do when they're apart?)

you likely have plenty to do around the Pit even if not officially one of the Vipers, and he's away making sure no enemies can blindside the Pit which more often than not means murder. minds mutually wonder towards each other often though.

ZOOM (what's their favourite picture together?)

most likely a picture either Step or Noah managed to grab of you together in a little Pit gathering/dinner. Lucien is likely facing away from the camera, unimpressed by whatever is happening, and you're caught mid-laugh. casual at first glance until you look closer and note how you're leaning into him and his head is lowered towards you, his arm half curled around you.

[the-mercurial-star-o-vesper]

TEN OUTTA TEN 1010

Welp, its happened. I’m into No Straight Roads, and the boys with the K-Bop in their step has got me hooked.

So I’m gonna celebrate (for the moment) with lots of gathered info I’ve found, seen, or heard speculated, regarding the Top Boy Band of Vinyl City... 1010. [Possible OCs to come later]

Some of this stuff might be common knowledge, some is already on the wiki, but hey, no shame in having a consolidated list.

But for now...

The Names of 1010 were deciphered by out of universe fans. They are Rin (White), Haym (Yellow), Eloni (Green), Purlhew (Blue) and Zimelu (Red).

An old placeholder model for 1010 had Black Hair and different tron lines.

1010 in binary is... literally just 10.

Eloni does not get fan letters; He’s the “Funny Band member”, and Funny Band Members don’t get fan letters.

1010 wears Sailor uniforms (The US Navy would call them Dress Blues, so think... Popeye. But no hat.) In fact, their flying limo is a god damn Tron-lined Battleship. Even the Cannons dance to the music.

They’re a parody on K-Bop bands or Boy Bands to the West. And while they’re listed as Funky, they’re technically Synthpop. (Haha, Synth)

In the background of their fight, when the Battleship Limo stops for pictures, you can see that there is a set of pictures of 1010. Rin the White has a Fuschia or Purple Background, while all the others have a background matching their aesthetic colors.

1010 have common powers... ... Firing Lasors. ... Levitation (Or small time Flight; as they rush to the side to meet the Cameras) ... “Taking to the Sky”, or just really powerful jumping. ... Being powered by Cheers. ... There’s a reason I left Shield off in a moment.

1010 are both outrageously tall (Mayday only comes to their waist when they stand up properly), and outrageously heavy (did you hear them walk backward in their intro cutscene? How heavy are these guys!?)

It could whatever kind of AI they have, but they are waaaay insynch, almost preemptively. Perhaps 1010 are directly linked to each other?

In most of their appearances outside of battle, they all have the same colored eyes as their aesthetic colors. But in Battle, they all have White eyes. Mind that in their Show Stopper picture, they’re back to having their aesthetic eyes again. Take that as you will.

1010 has associated attacks, when you’re in the Phase facing the Factory and Neon J. ... Yellow has Missiles or Splash Damage explosions. No literally, the yellow droid is the missle. ... Green has Bombs. HIS HAIR IS A BOMB. ... Red has Saws. He-He literally uses Red Droid as the Saw. ... Blue has some sort of Staffs or Whirlwind strike. They are staffs made of Purl-Hew. ... Because of his Picture’s Purple Background, White’s likely isn’t an attack but is, in fact, the Shields that occured early in the battle. Which is probably why they’re never deployed, because how the hell can you make a shield out of Rin Bots.

It was pointed out in one of the many Youtube Comment Sections that 1010′s hairstyles match their respective attacks in some form or fashion. ... Zimelu’s Mohawk indicates his associated Saws. ... Haym’s hair looks like a missile. ... Eloni’s hair looks line a Grenade Pin. ... Purlhew’s flat top hair could indicate the fact that he’s literally used as a Staff End. So basically he’s Blue. That’s his attack. [Hah] ... Rin’s the sexy one. Look, for a Band of Robots with fancy hairdos and attacks, he’s not considered remarkable.

As they are a parody of Boy Bands across the World, they may follow the boy band “archtypes” ... Rin is the Leader, and the Heartthrob (He doesn’t have a weird hairstyle, and he does the most flirting / talking; as well as the most promoted) ... Eloni, as already established, is the Funny Guy, or the Comedian. ... Purl-Hew is the Cool Guy, (consider his Sunglasses) ... Zimelu is the Bad Boy (Mohawk, his ANGRY EYES AARGH) ... Haym’s is apparently considered a Pompadour. Maybe he is also a Bad Boy? Consider his name, he may be the Smart Guy. ... There is no known “Shy Guy” or “Cute Guy (Technically, the Second Heartthrob, but isn’t a threat to first Heartthrob’s position). So, go forth and create.

Fun Consideration on my part. Since Names can have meaning in No Straight Roads and meaning in personal names... ... Rin is a japanese name, and boy can it mean a lot of stuff depending on the Kanji (Some of the meanings are “Dignified” “Compassion” “Cold”). He’s probably coolly impassionate off stage. ... Purl-Hew is apparently a pun on Pearl Hue (cos I guess blue Pearls). Perhaps he likes puns. ... Zimelu is an ooold fortress in Lativa apparently. Perhaps he has a warish personality. Or I guess knows very Niche military history. (Perhaps, in-universe, it was the name of a base Neon J served at?) ... Haym is the name shared by a few people, but in the themes of music, its probably Nicola Francesco Haym (Italian Poet, Opera Librettist, Composer, Manager, Editor and Numismatist (That’s uh, a guy who studies Currency)). Perhaps our Haym is quite the Nerd. ... the name Eloni means Lofty. Which can me “Of Imposing Height” (They all are), “Noble or Exalted Nature” (Possibly?) “Proud, Aloof or Self-Important” (They all are that too, yes), or in regard to Lofty Wool “Thick and Resilient” (I mean, if you look at those thighs-- Ahem). So basically Eloni’s name defines all the group... Wow, poor fella. No wonder he’s the Comedian, he’d have to pull anything to get noticed (when its not about his hair) [THE DUDE DABS]

If Battledroids all have background memories to be more efficient in combat... Does 1010 have backup memories from Neon J?

Metro Division shows other kinds of Robots, and the progression of 1010′s Mark Models (1 looks like your typical Sailor, 2 looks a bit like our 1010 but more droid, jointed and blocky, and our 1010 is currently mark 3... There are 4 known Types of Droid, so a 4th Mark may be on the way)

Neon J, Manager and Creator, is a Vetren of Vinyl City’s Navy (It only has a Navy); and his District is literally a Theme Park mashed with a Ship Yard.

Neon is the 10th element of the Periodic Table, and J is the 10th letter. Dude loves his 10s.

Considering how he replaces the bots in battle, or even outright uses them as weapons... Perhaps his “Troops” are not the Bot bodies, but the AI possibly hosted inside? 1010 has more personality out of battle after all, and Neon is seen fervently protecting 1010 when their eyes share their hair color. (As their eyes are only white in battle...) Hm, mayhaps the HC is, that when their Eyes have color, the AI is truely present.

Neon is a Cyborg, note that his body appears to be the same kind of droid as 1010′s, with a Radar head. His brain is apparently in his radar, and as we saw post-battle, that head was smashed to hell. Perhaps the reason he was reminiscing so much and though that BBJ was really after him, was because of some serious onset head or brain trauma.

Apparently, Vinyl City has or has had Border Wars. This could be a reference to the Korean DMZ Conflicts (As 1010 does distinctly include Korean K-Pop, and South Korean men do have to serve 2 years in the military forces by law), but there have been hundreds of different Border Wars throughout the world. [ I wonder what war Vinyl City was in. Perhaps against the Artist Capital of the World, Canvas City ] [ Oh take me down to the Canvas City, where the grass is green and the pics are pretty--]

Neon’s passion is Dancing.

Neon J and DJ Subatomic Supernova do seem to be in a lot of pictures together. No wonder everybody ships them.

Neon J used to make toys, as seen by the collectibles you can get. Done by hand too. Though if each toy found is a stage in his life... I wonder who the doll with the violin is.

Think maybe Neon J has direct control over 1010? I mean they share the same voice, they have a passion for poses and dancing, he does directly command them...

Are Cyborg parts cheap? Or was Neon J someone important enough in the Vinyl City Navy to actually become a cyborg? Military doesn’t do expensive prosthetic surgeries for random grunts without reason.

Okay, regarding what the Azkar faction is. Its probably suppose to be Askar. Azkar is a type of Islamic Prayer. Askar is actually Arabic for Army. So it’d be The “Army Faction” (which makes more sense for a nation city-state that only has a Navy)

The place he called “Kewan” is not a real world place. Its either Persian for “Saturn” (What, is he... Is he a SAILOR SCOUT!?) or Kurdish for Mountains (He does mention mountains).

Possibly more as information arises.

[albino-whumpee]

On those quiet moments

As part of the editing, I decided to put 3 chapters into this one, collecting Sann´s experience at Zarai´s and how his relationship with Albus gets more intimate. Hope you enjoy it! (the first one requested by @liliability the second is inspired by this post by @whump-galaxy and the third one was requested by anon)

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread@starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

Ok, god, this has been so so long in my drafts I´m so sorry.

I wanted to make something cute for this, I really tried, but Sann is opening up to me with a lot of dark stuff, so I will kind of share some of it? Hope you like it~

CW// Dehumanization, pet whump, creepy whumper, trauma recovery, collars, mental games, past noncon and dubcon touching, conditioning muzzles, conditioning, emotional whump, slight spice, mentioned past torture, scars, identity issues and trauma survivor navigating consent and relationships. Ask to tag! 

“Sann” the boy whispered to himself inside the crate he had arrived to the Glass mansion “Sann. My name´s Sann” he said to himself over and over as he tried to keep his mind away from the cold, from the pain of the bruises and beatings and the smell of other people. “Sann…”

His name was the first thing his Master gave him. Then the collar around his neck. A soft black leather band with golden buckles.

It meant Sann was his, and he had the right to do whatever he wanted to him.

Sann had expected to have his name called sweetly, gently pulled to his chest and be rewarded for his services. But his wishes were nobody´s concerns. Neither his comfort nor his happiness.

He was Robert Glass´s Romantic and he would obey his every whim.

He would stay put when he ordered him to. Watch how he took out his knife, or the belts, or the cane and the handcuffs and he would extend his wrists out and let him mark his body as he wished.

He would scream and shiver when he put the shock collar and slipped on the hood before leaving him tied in the basement for hours or even days, when he got sick of seeing his face.

He would go when he was called and smile when he ordered him to. He would take the beatings, the whipping and the tight ropes holding him in place for hours until his Master came to untie him and laugh when he plummeted to the ground made a shivering, crying mess behind the hood.

Despite all of it, he still held his hand, despite every second of screaming and begging, and rubbed raw wrists and ankles, he still called him Sirius sometimes.

Sometimes, when he wasn´t Sann, he would be kind. Sometimes, when they were alone on their way to another place, in the dark above the clouds, he would free him from his tight bindings. He would gently unbuckle the muzzle on his face and pull him up his lap to sooth his wedges and cuts and all the burns in his body.

“Quiet” the man would say as his stroke his cheek and slipped his hand down his thin shirt. Down his pants.

Sann would never admit now, sitting comfortably next to Al, head resting on his chest or chin on his shoulders, getting drunk in the fragrance of safety the albino induced, how Robert´s lips against his skin gave him goosebumps. How the man´s gentle shushing and hands felt like, when he played the game his father bought Sann for.

In the morning, he would be tied and muzzled all over again. However, when he got one second of solitude, Sann would pass his fingers over his lips. Wondering, if they could reach a point where the brusqueness of Sann´s kisses could be put aside for the gentleness of Sirius´s.

How much he had desired Robert to call him by the name of the person he longed for again, kissed the corner of his mouth and the tattooed lunars on his neck with affection Sann was forbidden from, and how earnestly, he had tried to keep him playing, to taste a little bit of the real love the man had to give, was his deepest secret.

It had been such a fierce desire, yet the dream cracked and crumbled when he took his voice.

By the time his Master took him to Zarai´s Christmas party and he met Albus, he had completely given up on getting kissed with love again.

It was slow, it took a while to stare at Albus with his shyness and odd ways of putting a smile on his face or tend invisible wounds he soothed with his presence alone, so the desire could ignite on his chest. Not the artificial warmth of letting his mind slip into the safety of his programming, but allow Sann, himself, to touch that flame and not burn on it.

Until one day, after Albus and Ma´am came from work, vibrating from accomplishment and pride, his happiness bled into him and Sann kissed him. He had seen how his face turned completely red but ended melting in his lips.

He wasn´t always sure if he was allowed to feel it as Sann, but with Albus, he didn´t have to whisper someone else´s name to hope there would be no pain later.

Being Sann was enough to be loved.

--

“I told you I´m not an artist” Sann said as Albus giggled at his fake, badly drawn mustache on the mirror.

They were once again alone at home, their owners going out for the weekend meant they had the house all to themselves and keys to go outside if they wished to. Sann had spent the whole weekend trying to teach Albus how to swim and laughing at his childish splashing. After so much time under the sun, a massive amount of freckles and small rashes had sprouted on their burnt skin, hence why they had rested the last day before their owners came back and applied sunscreen and cream on each other´s back before laying down in the couch. 

In Albus´ teasing about the new freckles in the other´s back, Sann had picked up the pen they had been using for an hour now to paint on each other´s skin.

“What do you say? Should I let one grow?” The other said looking at himself side by side. Sann stared at him for a long moment. In all the time since he had become Zarai´s property, he had never seen him use a razor.

“Can you?” he asked finally after a moment.

“Possibly not” he giggled taking the pen they had been using to doodle over their faces “But you would look handsome with a beard, should we try see?”

Sann shook his head as he swooshed away the other boy´s hands, unable to stop the smile on his face. Would he? His Master never let it grow, after all.

“Ok, ok. Give me your hand” Albus said extending his arm with a pen on the other. The taller boy looked at his hand and then at him, arching an eyebrow. “C´mon, it´s nothing bad, I swear” he flashed a little smile at him.

Sann put his hand on his, puzzled at the way the other watched and traced the burns and cuts extending all the way from the back of his hand to his forearm, more underneath the flamingo shirt he was wearing then. Webs of them hid from the view below his clothes when it was a “don´t wanna show” day.

His fingers ghosted the diagonal lines on his wrists and moved to the circular, old scars of cigarette burns, before doing that flip with his pen to settle it over his skin.

“Would you like something in particular?” Albus asked looking up at him through his lashes. White like the rest of him, hiding that beautiful gleam of red. Sann made a vague gesture as if saying go ahead and surprise him.

Albus was careful to not put too much pressure and the pen´s ink was cold, but after a while, he could find it almost soothing. Even better for Sann as he couldn´t get bored of seeing the other stick his tongue out just like every time he got completely focused.

“There, look” The other told him suddenly, just as his eyes went down to find the burns with blue lines that made them look like meteors, a few of the cuts made to look like an alien ship flying by, his own freckles made to look like stars, connected to other freckles with a pointed line. Right on the back of his hand, there was a telescope.

Sann passed his fingers over them with widened eyes and then his expression softened. Never thinking he would like to see the scars over his skin. He was not afraid of showing them, he didn´t care anymore, but he never thought they could be pretty to look at.

“Can you do the other?” Sann asked him with a warm feeling extending over his chest.

“If you let me paint a beard”

“Forget it”

“Oh, c´mon!” Albus laughed.

--

Being Zarai´s came with perks he would have called luxuries with his Master. A soft bed to sleep in where he wouldn´t be woken up to be dragged up the mattress and then tightly tied face down with his ass up in the middle of the night. That wouldn´t happen. He could sleep tangled up with Albus and he could be sure he wouldn’t wake up with an unusual pain in the back of his throat, but instead he would be woke up when the albino tried to leave the bed as silently as possible, but when he failed and Sann clung to his shirt, the albino would greet him with a kiss in his forehead and a whispered “good morning”.

Sann spent most of his time alone at the house. Carrying the three legged cat all around the house as he searched for things to do. He could swim at the pool and step out of the house whenever he wanted. He even had access to the TV, laptop and all the books at the studio. He had so much freedom suddenly, at the beginning he had knelt in the middle of the house and waited. Expecting it to be a game where Zarai would appear out of nowhere to punish him for his incredulity. He had rather play it safe. But a few months later, the scared boy was curled up in the sofa watching videos about how to build a hinge for a prosthetic leg for the cat purring in his lap. He still had the habit to look around every few minutes just to make sure nobody would come to hit him.

It had been a reflex to scrunch his eyes when Zarai pulled her hand up behind him one night. The woman and the albino were working in another project together and had stayed working until deep into the night. Sann had taken that time to make them company in the living room working on the latex prosthetic and was so focused on it, he hadn´t noticed it was already past three when Zarai tried to touch him.

He knew she wasn´t the type to hit her pets, he knew it and yet his breathing still got cut short when she called for him and the only thing he saw was her hand growing closer. He hadn´t even noticed he had put his arms around his head defensively until she called for him again.

“Sann?” she asked, gently pulling his arms away to see his terrified face. “I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to scare you” she said as the boy pulled his arms down slowly to sign sorry while shaking his head. “It´s kind of late already and my assistant is taking a break” she said nodding at the boy peacefully sleeping with his arms over the dining table with a blanket draped over his shoulders. “I´ll be working a bit longer, but I´ll need some help. Could you give me a hand, Sann?”

The pet´s eyes widened at her before giving a hesitating nod. After a while, Sann was sitting in the ground working on the spreadsheets scattered in the coffee table while Zarai revised her part of the work when Sann felt something fuzzy covering his shoulders. When he turned to see her, clinging to the blanket, the woman looked at him for a moment before slowly pulling her hand up to his hair. The boy flinched away slightly, but as her fingers ran through his hair smoothly, the boy let his defenses down one stroke at a time. Each stroke a little closer, making him a little less stiff, until finally, he leaned into her hand with closed eyes when she cupped his face in her hand.

For a second he doubted if he needed to go further, if it was necessary for him to show eagerness but after a second she simply went back to her work, her hand going back to her lap not looking for anything else to happen. In fact, the next time she touched him, it was only to put the slipping blanket back over his shoulders.

It was a warmth he had never had so freely given at Robert Glass´ mansion.

At his Master’s house, he would sit idly by the bed and wait for the guest to come inside the room, just as ordered. His knees were callous with how much he knelt, but his body still resisted to get used to the cold when wearing just the black leather harness and collar while waiting.

The first time he had serviced another person that wasn’t his Master by his orders, his heart thrummed on his ears like a war band. It had been with many people watching, many of who he had pleased right after the other. He had pleaded in vain, made them laugh when he begged to be forgiven and reserved to only his Master. His heart had raced and lost strength over and over, so many times now, that in the silence of the guest room on those nights he waited for the guest to come inside, it was calm.

A firm rhythm that stuttered whenever he heard steps outside. That smothered when they went away and beat with renewed strength, when the door opened to a face he hadn’t seen before, yet looked amused and pleased when they stared down at him.

His mind wondered sometimes, if the albino would ever look at him that way, but the thought quickly vanished.

There was one night he fled to the studio when nightmares came for him -Of past games his Master played with him and he had no chance of winning, nor of escaping the punishment for losing- when he knelt next to the couch and woke him up with ragged sobs and face filled with tears. The albino had rushed to straighten up and sat on the ground with him, allowing him to bury his face on his chest and cry.

After he had dried himself of tears to shed, when his cheeks were red and his eyes hurt from the strain on his head, he realized the thundering thrum of his heartbeat would be quiet.

Being held was a privilege back then, but with him, it was not earned by winning a game. Nor was expected to make his heart race all over again when sleeping together.

It was strange…a placebo, maybe, to have a pillow that prevented him from slipping his hand below the other boy´s waistband when training took over his judgement. It was a rule to have it between them if Albus was going to start sleeping with him and he was definitely trying his best to keep it that way, getting used to it was quick.

But after so many nights of being woken up to collect Sann on his arms, Albus was exhausted. He had forgotten to put the pillow between them and Sann had to shake him awake a few times so he could change and slip inside the bed. Still, he had an arm over his waist.

Sann´s heart picked up when Albus pressed himself against him. Feeling his face nuzzling against his back just making it drum harder. He could feel him so well, yet, he didn´t dare to move at all. He couldn´t even hear him over the loud ba-thump, ba-thump reverberating on his head.

The shock on those red eyes, cowering on the edge of the bed was something he never wanted to see again.

So when he jolted at the other´s half asleep groan, afraid he had moved, only to notice he was trying to retrieve the arm he was crushing underneath him, he giggled wryly.

He could hear his heart get quieter as the albino retrieved his arm, most probably numbed out, with half opened eyes, he brushed his cheek with his other hand and mumbled a thanks under his breath before going back to sleep.

Sann then tried to follow, taking his hand on his own and curling around it like a cat. Effectively stopping the wild drumming on his ears that become, ever so slowly, a soft murmur that melted with the sound of soft breathing.

[maria-scribbles]

cocoa

sick of hearing his parents fight day after day, reggie goes to the one person who knows exactly what he's going through: the pretty violinist who lives next door.

fandom: julie and the phantoms

ship: alive!reggie x reader

word count: 1.5k+

featuring: swearing (as always), fighting, allusion to an abusive relationship, general sadness, mention of a family member’s death

a/n: day 2 of my holiday challenge: hot chocolate! this is kind of depressing and i'm sorry, sad!reggie was stuck in my head and he wouldn't leave until i wrote this but it has kind of a hopeful ending tho so i guess that counts for something? this is also my first time writing for this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. as usual, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1994

They were fighting again. It was the same old story: his dad being an ass on purpose, his mom taking the bait, wash, rinse, repeat. Their shouts rang harshly throughout the house, gloomy and miserable despite the cheerful decorations strung up in every room and the massive Christmas tree downstairs, dressed in its festive best and looking like it came straight out of a seasonal catalog.

Reggie had gone to them at the beginning of the month, begging them not to fight, please; his everyday life was already ruined by their screaming matches and the only thing he wanted for Christmas was some peace, quiet and civility to celebrate his favorite holiday. His father had pretended not to hear his son's pleas, ignoring him completely like he always did while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We'll try, honey." She'd said and he knew it was a lie. His mother always lied, his father always threw a plate at her head, Reggie always wished he had the courage to run away for good, like Luke did. But he wasn't Luke, he never would be, and he just didn't have it in him to leave them, even though he was the one who came out worse for wear after each fight.

The distant shatter of ceramic drifting up the stairs was his cue to go until things cooled down again -he never stuck around after the first dish got thrown, not anymore, the scar on his arm the perfect reminder why- and so he jimmied open the window of his room and climbed down the trellis into the salty air, the crashing waves of the Pacific covering his escape like a blanket.

(He could've stormed down the stairs and slammed the door behind him and his parents still wouldn't have noticed he left but something about sneaking out and risking a broken bone made him feel alive, the same rush he felt when he was on stage, bass humming in his hands, performing alongside his bandmates and knowing they felt it, too.)

Even outside, the echoes of his parents' angry voices still rang in his ears, haunting him all the way to the house next door, its sparkling lights shining brightly and guiding him through the darkening night like a beacon. The driveway sat empty, sans for one lone bicycle haphazardly lying on its side in front of the garage and he carefully propped it up on its kickstand before climbing the stairs to the front porch.

The faint sound of a slow, somber violin came to a stop as he knocked on the door, followed by a quiet, familiar voice Reggie knew like the back of his hand.

"It's open."

He found Y/N alone on the couch, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the strings of the violin on her lap and she glanced up at the tap of his boots on the hardwood floor, face brightening the slightest bit at the sight of her friend rounding the corner into the living room. 

The girl didn't speak as she gently placed the instrument aside and stood, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck to draw him into a crushing hug. His own arms wrapped around her waist and held her just as tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, and the warm vanilla scent of her soft hair tickling his nose helped calm the storm in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Reg." Her voice was low and soothing in his ear and he didn't know how he could possibly hold her any tighter than he already was but he managed as he replied, "I'm sorry, too."

While his parents fought like wildfire, explosive and loud and raging with the wrong type of passion, hers were like a deep freeze, icy and cold and desolate in the worst possible way. Too many times Y/N was left to her own devices, all alone in an empty house with her thoughts and a violin her only company (at least they had given her that, the gift of music and a beautiful, expensive instrument to prove their love was real, albeit superficial).

It was some time later before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and brushed a wayward strand of his dark hair back from his forehead with one calloused finger. "Okay, pity party's over. It's almost Christmas and we're not spending it being sad about shitty parents. Deal?"

She held out her pinky with one eyebrow raised expectantly and grinned when he nodded and hooked his pinky around hers. Reggie loved really liked that about her, the way she could just make all the heartache and pain and disappointment vanish from his mind like magic and replace them with thoughts of her and her sunny smile, her big heart, her touch that made the very blood in his veins spark like lightning. Y/N was his bright spot, his safe haven, and while Luke, Alex, and Bobby knew what he was going through, they just didn't understand like she did (they had their own problems to deal with, anyway, so he couldn't blame them).

"Good, now come on," She wrapped the rest of her fingers around his hand and started tugging him down the hall to the kitchen. "You're helping me make hot chocolate."

"Peppermint?" He asked, smiling when she glanced up at him with an offended look on her face.

"Duh. Only a heathen would make it without peppermint, Reginald."

Another thing he liked about her: she never did anything halfway; half-assing things, taking the easy way out, cutting corners just wasn't her style. It even applied to hot chocolate apparently, as he watched her flutter around the kitchen with practiced ease -heating milk and cream on the stove, measuring sugar and chocolate, slowly adding drops of peppermint oil- and despite her saying he was going to help, the only thing he got to do was crush some candy canes. Not that he minded, though, because while his hands could play bass like no one's business, they were a total disaster when it came to cooking and he knew Y/N was well aware of that fact, considering it took a week for the burnt popcorn smell to fade from her microwave the last time he tried. 

The violinist smiled and proudly handed him the finished drink, whipped cream piled high and candy cane bits almost overflowing from the edge of a red mug. "This is my grandma's recipe," She said, one hand holding a purple mug for herself and the other reaching to grab onto his wrist and pull him out the front door. "She'd always make it when she came to visit for the holidays and we'd sit out on the porch and watch the ocean, each and every year." 

"She was the best," Reggie said as the two sat together on the porch swing, his right side flush against her left. "I still have dreams about her cookies and wake up drooling."

The cool ocean breeze ruffled Y/N's hair and carried her laugh off down the beach. "She loved you, you know that? She was always talking about 'that nice boy next door.' Pretty sure she wanted us to get married."

"I loved her, too." He took a sip of his drink in an attempt to hide the blush that was taking over his entire face. "And we still have time for the whole marriage thing."

"I'm still waiting for my ring." She laughed again before looking down at the mug in her hands, voice becoming quiet as she replied, "I really miss her. She was the only person in my family who actually cared about me 'cause my parents sure as hell don't."

He wanted to tell her she was wrong but he knew it'd be a lie and he never did that, refusing to become a pathological liar like his mother, so instead he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "Hey, no more talk about shitty parents, remember?"

"Sorry, I know," She took a long sip of her cocoa, then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I just feel alone sometimes when you're not around. I mean, you have your band and I always had my grandma to talk to but now she's gone and I'm kind of...lost."

"You have the band, too, Y/N! Alex and Luke love you and Bobby, well, he's Bobby. No one really knows what goes on in that guy's head but I know he thinks you're cool. We all do, especially me, and you should know you're never alone 'cause you'll always have us."

The girl abruptly sat up and grabbed the mug from Reggie's hand before he could blink and placed it alongside her own on the floor, then threw her arms around his neck in another one of her fierce hugs.

"Has anyone told you how fucking amazing you are?" 

"You just did." He buried his blushing face in her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist once again. "I'm serious, Y/N. You'll always have me."

"And you'll always have me, Reg. No matter what."

And as they sat there on the porch swing, wrapped in each other's arms, Reggie knew as long as he had Y/N in his life, things were gonna be okay.

[theangrycomet]

This was supposed to be an easy mission- get in the mad scientist’s lair, download files, maybe blow some stuff up, and get out.

They would have gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for the final line of defense.

Who would have thought a villain of this caliber would have been so old school as to set up a trapdoor connected to his desk top?

“You know, I’m surprised the Bodegamen of all people sent such amateurs to infiltrate my place.” He mused, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense before walking back towards the computer. “I’m a little hurt actually.”

The Glowsticks were now, much to their fury, tied up. Hung up like meat in a butcher shop, they dangled by their feet. Glaring at him, they exchanged short, scheming looks as they fidgeted with the rope.

The villain in question lounged in his chair, ignoring them as he tried to figure out what the heck was going on with his computer. His intern was on the other end of the room on another computer, doing something likely malicious. 

“Where’s Fink when you need her?” The villain mumbled, clicking around the screen as the three realized they were being IGNORED. 

“Uh hello- heroes tied up and seemingly in a stitch?” Jordan drawled, eyebrow raised (or lowered? They were upside down after all). “This is your cue for an evil scheme monologue?”

“Dr. Feakins, help me out with this.”

“One second, sir.” Crossing the room, her heels snapped against the linoleum like a BB gun. Roman shuddered as she passed, a wave of nausea washed over his stomach.

“Okay seriously- who uses rope anymore!” Jordan griped, pulling at the taut twine to no avail. Even with her strength, she couldn’t beat it without leverage which she was tragically lacking.

 All she earned for her efforts were a pair of chafed wrists. Casting a longing glance at her sword, her mouth twisted downwards- or rather, upwards- into a frown as she groaned. “Ugh- why didn’t dad let me have that knife gauntlet Bismuth made!”

“I told you- you should’ve asked your mom first.” Roman muttered half-heartedly. Ugh, the feeling wasn’t going away. 

What was going on? He never got sick.  

He bit his lip, staring suspiciously at the redhead now typing at the computer. Feakins... Where’d he hear that before?

Kaiden, per norm, was too busy analyzing their surroundings for quips, much less questions. He was focused on analyzing all that he saw within the recesses of the lab.He could just see the corners of his eyes narrowed as they flicked about, taking in everything and putting the pieces together. 

Personally, he was wondering how his friend could even concentrate with the blood rush. 

“A Gempiran weapon might have helped you escape this one.” The villain straightened up from his computer, now that Feakins was at the station.

He shrugged, smugly picking up the sword beside him. 

“This is lovely craftsmanship.” Weighing it in his hand, he played with the balance.Taking a few playful swipes, his form wasn’t half bad. Jordan noted the signs of a rusty swordsman who’d let himself get out of practice. 

“Too bad I’ll never see it in action.” He mused, threat thick in the air.

“Oh don’t worry Professor Venomous-” Thick brows furrowing, she smirked- oozing confidence. “I’ll make sure you get a close up when we kick your butt.”

“Uhuh.” Rolling his eyes, Venomous replaced the sword against the wall. “Let me guess, your little EVO friend’s gonna help you.”

Jordan glanced as well as she could at the jacketed hero. Though she couldn’t see a lot, what she could worried her.

A miserable grimace twisted across his significantly paler face. Sweat had broken across his brow and dripped into his hairline. Shaking like a leaf, he looked close to passing out. 

An oddly familiar crooked grin stretch itself across the mans lips at Roman’s discomfort before he nodded to the intern, still working on the computer. 

“Nice work, Feakins.”

“Always here to help, sir.” Came her chipper reply as she undid the damage of their flash drive. 

Meandering over, he went to the third Glowstick, who had yet to break his silence during this little exchange. No complaints, no smart aleck remarks. 

Just a mouth set in a flat line beneath (or really above) a pair of dark shades. 

“Well you’ve been quiet,”  he drawled, leaning on the the railing amused. Poking his chest, he watched the hero swing back and forth lazily. “Got any last words for me, blondie?”

Kaiden glared, glasses slipping up his nose.

And than he smirked, fang peeking of from his upper lip.

“Last words?” Raising an eyebrow, his head band shifted, loosening a bit. It didn’t help that his glasses were slipping with them, catching on the pink material. “Awfully bold for a snake as out of the game as yourself.”

Venomous scoffed, opening his mouth to make some sort of counter argument. And than he stopped. 

Kaiden expected a sort of superior expression- like a cat might make after knocking your coffee mug onto your laptop. Instead, he looked…

Surprised?

Purple eyes blinked at each other, Kaiden’s narrowed in challenge as Venomous’ widened in revelation. Whipping his arm out, he snatched Kaiden’s glasses, knocking the headband loose. It headband fluttered indignantly to the floor.

“Wha- HEY!” Blinking at the abrupt change in lighting in clarity, he was soon squinting angrily at the big purple-grey blur before him. “Give those back!”

“Dude- did you just take his glasses?” Roman exclaimed, immediately regretting opening his mouth as Dr. Feakins approached. His stomach lurched as his body was slammed with a cold flash.

“Okay that’s just low!” Jordan instinctively reached for Kaiden’s spares in her pocket, only to be painfully reminded of the rope digging at her skin. “Ugh, jerk.”

Staring at Kaiden’s features- his proud nose, high cheekbones, set jaw- the more he looked the more everything screamed him. How had he not seen it immediately- it was all right there. Even the eyes were the same- though Kaiden’s were far more guarded than he were at this age. 

The hero in question, was more than a little thrown off at the intensity of his gaze- lessened in the blur that was his less than exceptional vision. 

Kaiden wasn’t going to lie; taking his glasses? Incredibly smart move on Venomous’ part. Now not only did the professor impede his sight, he also allowed himself to see where Kaiden was going to strike.

That is, if Venomous had that combat experience to follow the eye. 

He wasn’t sure if the man did.

A small seed of doubt worried into his mind as a realization struck him. Normally between the his research, POW card knowledge, and the numerous stories told by his family and friends, Kaiden had a good idea of what to expect with any prominent villain.

But Professor Venomous?

He knew nothing about him, outside of no one willing to talk to him about the guy. Only what he had observed in the last 10 minutes. Unless he figured out a plan, they might be screwed.

Venomous broke into laughter, as though reading his mind, and startling the others.

“Oh this is RICH. You three aren’t supposed to be on this mission- does anyone even know you’re here?” He asked, amused.

“Of course they do.” Kaiden lied through his teeth. 

“Liar.” Walking around him, he gestured with the captured shades. “KO would drop dead before sending you to me.”

KO? How did Venomous know to call him KO as opposed to Knock Out? What was his father’s name doing so flippantly in the villain’s mouth? Venomous said his Dad’s name with such casualness- most said it with nerves strung tight in their voice.

With Venomous, it was as though he knew his Dad personally...

“You won’t see the irony here,” Tilting his head, he leaned to the side to get a better view of Kaiden’s face, noting the little necklace dangling at his throat, balance precariously on his jaw. “-but I’m actually supposed to be having my anniversary dinner with my husband in a few hours so you three making an appearance is hilarious.”

“Oh congratulations!” Jordan beamed automatically before scowling. “Wait, no you have us hog tied!- I revoke my congratulations.”

“What irony?” Ignoring her, Kaiden twisted to face him- suspicion pinching his features before settling into a mask of indifference. “The only thing I see is a fuzzy purple raisen about to get his butt whooped.”

“Aw, the little hero making threats? I’m shaking in my boots.” 

“You should be.” Venomous’ eyes lit up with intrigue as a volt of violet electricity sparked jaggedly down the teen’s arm. 

Venomous leaned down in front of Kaiden with a wicked grin.

“Tell you what, sport. I’ll cut you and your little friends some slack. I’ll just skip to straight to the psychological and emotional torment today.”

“What?”

“You’re lieing.” Jordan said flatly.

“And pray tell-” Roman’s teeth chattered, as Freakins handed a remote to Venomous with out a word- still at the computer. “how exactly are you going to do that?”

“Easy. Shipping you back to the Plaza with out so much as a scratch on you and showing that you three aren’t even worth the time and effort of a bored villain well into his retirement to properly defeat.” he shrugged easily. “Not too flattering on a heroes image. 

The two grimaced as Kaiden frowned. 

That didn’t make any sense. Just a few minutes ago Kaiden was certain he’d do something. he’d be threatening them with experiments and dissections and the like. Stooping down to mere embarrassing teenagers before their peers? Sure, it was low and would send most other heroes-in-training’s self-confidence and egos spiraling down the drain.

But it was not exactly threatening. 

There had to be another angle- what was it? What could PV possibly gain by letting them go?

Kaiden frowned as the nauseating presence of the intern finally got to the EVO.

“Roman?!” The two were sidetracked as Roman heaved. Shuddering, he coughed as his throat burned with bile. 

“You okay?”

“I TOLD you snack machine sushi was a bad idea!”

Venomous rolled his eyes as he pressed a button on the remote. 

“Ugh it’s in my sinuses!”

“Aw buddy-”

“AAH!”

A large Box rose from the floor and opened up beneath them. The ropes were cut and they fell screaming into it- lid snapping tight behind them. 

The Box was still for a moment before it writhed back and forth with the Glowsticks outrage. He could just here Kaiden’s shouts above the others.

“Fight me Venomous!”

A smile tugged at his mouth as the portal opened beneath the Box, sucking it away to be delivered at the Plaza.

Watching them disappear, Venomous leaned back on the railing, pondering.