#i mean such is just the state of television today at large but still

[britneyshakespeare]

i act like i'm ok but deep down i think about how i miss the carbonaro effect all the time

[earth616variant]

the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

 “Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling. 

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place. 

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted. 

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory. 

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?” 

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued,  “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

 

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again.  It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.  

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type. 

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?” 

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow. 

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it. 

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.” 

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.” 

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.” 

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because  I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S. 

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it. 

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.” 

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

[mightyflamethrower]

Idiocracy has arrived

April 10, 2024 1:54 pm Robert Zimmerman

Over the last few days the conservative press has been having a field day making justifiable fun of a number of Democrats and leftists for exhibiting incredible scientifict ignorance, an ignorance so profound as to be mind-boggling.

First, after the unusual 4.8 magnitude earthquake centered in New Jersey on April 5th, a Green Party senate candidate in New Jersey, Christina Amira Khalil, immediately tweeted, “I experienced my first earthquake in NJ. We never get earthquakes. The climate crisis is real.” The mocking on X was so great she quickly deleted the tweet.

Then, in an incredibly embarrassing segment of the television show, The View, one host, Sunny Hostin, showed off her complete lack of any scientific knowledge when she claimed that the earthquake, the solar eclipse, and even the normal arrival of the cicadas every seventeen years (which she thought happened every hundred-plus years) was evidence that climate change was real.

Finally, to top off this stream of utter empty-headiness, during an eclipse event in Texas, Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee gave a speech of such stunning incompetency and lack of knowledge you have to wonder how she can figure out how to put on her clothes each day. This quote has been most often used to ridicule her:

Now those [the Sun and Moon] provide unique light and energy so that you have the energy of the moon at night, and sometimes you’ve heard the word full moon, sometimes you need to take the opportunity just to come out and see a full moon is that complete rounded circle, which is made up mostly of gases. And that’s why the question — the question is why, or how could we as humans live on the moon? The gas is such that we could do that. The sun is a mighty powerful heat, and it’s almost impossible to go near the sun. The moon is more manageable.”

It is worth reading her entire speech, however, in order to get the full flavor of her lack of knowledge or her incomprehension of some of the most basic scientific facts. For example, later she says “Today will be the closest distance that the moon has ever been in the last 20 years. Which means, that’s why they will shut the light down because they will be close to the Earth.” Then she adds, “That the solar system is bigger than us, though there are solar systems and there are systems that are smaller than the Earth.”

I doubt she has the slightest understanding of any of this.

Though all of these idiots are leftists or Democrats, and the right has had a lot of fun making mincemeat of them over their dumbness, the problem really isn’t confined to the left. For example, consider the high number of local governments, controlled by both parties, that declared states of emergency because of the eclipse, fearing panic and car accidents. These government officials feared they would not be able to handle the large number of tourists, nor would people know what to do when the eclipse occurred.

Or as Chicken Little screamed, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”

That such people hold important positions in our political and cultural world, and still hold those positions after exhibiting such foolishness, speaks very ill of our entire society, not just those on the left.

Nor is these failures seen only in the political or entertainment world. The inability to think critically or with forthright intellectual honesty is now seen everywhere. For example, this week the American Library Association (ALA) released its list of what it considers the “ten most challenged” book titles in 2023, books it considered banned or censored. The problem was that more than half the books were those advocating the queer lifestyle, and the challenges to them almost all came from parents who did not want their little kids exposed to such porn in their schools. No books were banned, parents simply wanted the books out of elementary school libraries.

And yet, the head of the ALA was unable to recognize this very important and completely legitimate distinction.

“In looking at the titles of the most challenged books from last year, it’s obvious that the pressure groups are targeting books about LGBTQIA+ people and people of color,” American Library Association President Emily Drabinski said in a statement accompanying the list. “We are fighting for the freedom to choose what you want to read,” Drabinski added. “Shining a light on the harmful workings of these pressure groups is one of the actions we must take to protect our right to read.”

For Drabinski, who is a proud advocate of Marxism and the queer agenda, any disagreement is censorship, blunt and simple. It is impossible for her to analyze any dissent with any nuance.

And yet, she is the elected head of the foremost organization representing the nation’s libraries. What does that tell us about the nation’s librarians, and their ability to think critically or with intellectual honesty?

Then there was the long op-ed published yesterday by a senior business editor at NPR, Uri Berliner. He has been at his job there for 25 years, but he now considers the place a failure as a news organization, close-minded and unable to report the news with any competence.

An open-minded spirit no longer exists within NPR, and now, predictably, we don’t have an audience that reflects America.

To conservatives he states the obvious: NPR has become entirely focused on reporting only news that fits a very narrow and extreme leftist viewpoint, and as a result, it is now listened to by only a very small segment of Americans. Everyone else has been driven away by its partisan intellectual dishonesty.

He cites for examples NPR’s reporting on the Trump-Russian collusion, the Hunter Biden laptop, and the origin of the COVID virus. In all three cases the network accepted the accusations of the left without question: Trump won his election by working with the Russians, the laptop was disinformation and a fraud, and anyone who said COVID came from a lab was a wild conspiracy theorist who should be ignored.

Yet, when all three of these accusations turned to be wrong (there was no collusion, the labtop was real, and COVID almost certainly came from a Chinese lab in Wuhan), NPR refused to admit error and correct its reporting. Instead, it made believe it never happened, reinforcing this denial by generally refusing to cover the scoops that proved its reporting was wrong.

Once again, these examples are on the left, but once again, there are no consequences. Being intellectually dishonest to a point of absurdity, in a way that is plainly obvious, carries no penalty. If you get into a position of power today in America, you can pretty much say or do anything, with little fear of retribution.

From Idiocracy: “But Brawndo’s got what plants crave. It’s got electrolytes!”

And without consequence, this ignorance and arrogance of the ignorant will only grow. If you are wrong you need others to tell you bluntly that you are, and you need to be forced to listen, or else go elsewhere because of your inability to correct youself. This is how you teach people the necessary humbleness required for them to improve themselves.

Instead, our culture now teaches them to punish anyone who criticizes them. In such an atmosphere, our culture can only become even more ignorant and foolish at all levels, across the entire political spectrum.

Unless something changes very soon, this elegant, prosperous, but very complex technological society is going to collapse. It will become like the moronic society of the movie Idiocracy, where stupidity rules and critical thinking is entirely impossible.

If we aren’t already living in Idiocracy already.

[lady-griffin]

It’s very odd to me (I mean I understand why it happens, but it’s still absolutely bonkers) that considering how much we spend, care, and just give our time to these so-called “frivolous” forms of entertainment, that people are so quick to dismiss and trivialize them at a moment’s notice.

Because if they were as insignificant as they’re saying they are...

Well TV, Movies, and really any kind of storytelling would be nothing like it actually is; in fact, our culture would be nothing like it is today.

As much as people talk about the so-called shitty state of tv shows and movies, they at least like one movie and or tv show, they absolutely do. To say otherwise is such a big fucking like. So, something they love or have cared about was in part created by someone who was most likely a WGA member, and was able to make that story come to life, because it was a job they could actually live off of.

Also, if everything is truly so terrible and awful, then why aren’t we arguing for the studios or streaming services to make less money; why, is just the workers who are a major aspect of the products that are making these huge corporations so much money, expendable?

To be clear, this goes beyond just the writers in the film and tv industry. It’s insane to me how people ignore or are just ignorant to how much movies and tv shows are collaborative efforts and not born from one-single genius, auteur mind.

I mean...

We clearly do value entertainment and storytelling, we absolutely do. 

To say otherwise is ridiculous, because if we didn’t than our culture and society would be beyond unrecognizable to us. It’s something so blatantly important to our lives and yet, at the same time, we’ve been taught and conditioned to dismiss entertainment once we have to think about the people providing it for us – largely because of capitalistic and anti-union brain rot talking points (imo).

And those negative talking points go beyond this one union and strike.

I just...

Particularly in regards to America, television and movies are something we as a culture have very much cultivated and dedicated so much of ourselves to. That isn’t to say we are the only ones or the sole creators or tv and film entertainment, because obviously that’s not true. 

But because of how history unfolded and the rise of certain technologies, the film and television industry was largely defined by America in its first steps and even today; plus, America itself was and is in many ways defined by film and television.

It's just so weird to me, how this huge aspect of our culture and everyday lives, is so easily dismissed and looked down upon.

"oh boy the WGA is on strike, prepare for years of awful movies and shows."

so you agree. you agree that writers are an indispensable part of your favorite movies and shows and deserve a fair contract that pays them accordingly.

[aigeneratedromancenovel]

05/28/2024

One week ago today, I sat on the floor by the bathroom with my then-boyfriend and discussed at length a timeline for the future we ostensibly wanted together. Three days later, he sat on my porch—sunglassed eyes in the bright morning sun, the kind that fogs the air—and said he no longer enjoyed his time with me.

I have watched the Ring camera footage of this moment countless times since.

The Ring camera came with the house—the house I convinced my parents to buy in Central New York so that we would have a safety net for his pending divorce. At first it didn’t work—the camera. Something about the wiring. I figured it was for the best—I’m prone to paranoia and could picture myself checking the live feed at odd hours of the night and ultimately convince myself of some unseen threat lurking in the pixelated silhouettes of the street. Then one day, a delivery person rang the doorbell, startling me off of my then-boyfriend’s lap, wondering if it had come from whatever show was playing on a ridiculously widescreen television I had purchased with his teenage son in mind. And when it started working, I’d find myself replaying captures of large insects or dogs passing just within its sensors, images I’d watch and assign arbitrary meaning to. Large white dogs mean rain. Spiders also mean rain. Everything means rain—it’s Spring in Central New York.

I met him a year and half ago. I’d been enlisted by a close friend to check Tinder for her situationship. When the mission was over, I still had most of the week’s subscription remaining. He was 17 years older than me and I couldn’t really tell from his photos the state of his hairline. I wasn’t even sure our first date would happen—it was hastily planned when I made it known I would be out of town for two weeks. A small Italian restaurant equidistant from our homes—mine, at the time, was with my histrionic roommate who never liked him but for the wrong reasons.

This is the same restaurant I’d cry in front of about seven months later when I discovered he was still talking to the ex he had assured me multiple times had been blocked.

This is not to be confused with the time I cried in front of a grocery store while repeatedly bashing my wrists into the console of his car when, days shy of our one-year anniversary, he revealed to me he went on dating apps when we fought to self-soothe. The bruises I'd given myself lasted a week; I could understand the impulse to self-destruct.

I am not telling a true story. I am telling you the story that you’re going to hear regardless of how honest I am about what a fucking bitch I can be.

Because the facts of the story are as follows: for the past year and a half I have devoted myself wholly to a married man whose divorce was always, always pending, whose anger was infectious, whose remorse, in its desperation, felt the closest I think one can get to love.

Because the facts of the story are as follows: in the words of the only other man to have dumped me (weird flex)—the man whose fiction was so bad it jump-started my own interest in writing just to spite him—I am unrealistic in my expectations of monogamy.

I learned what quickened his heart, what tensed his jaw. And I'd reach to cruelty for life support. And reach, and reach, and …

The evening before our first date, he called me, and we talked for over four hours. This would be a defining feature of the early stages of the relationship. I knew immediately the type of girl he wanted me to be, and I thought there was nothing more I loved than a list. But there was—I loved being his. I was, at one point, so good at it. We both played our roles so good. I got cocky.

I am not telling a true story because I still write out of spite. I am not telling a true story because I would do anything for him to look at me like he did that first night at the restaurant when I caught his gaze through the front door. I couldn’t tell what it was then. I still don’t know what it is now.

The morning he left I learned the lawn mower I had purchased was too weak to do the job, a job I’d left for far too late in the season, so late I’m still expecting a code violation in my mailbox. My friend said to return it. To buy the model that would do the job.

I don’t want a different one, I just want this one to work.

[fanficrambles]

The Other Woman (Reversed)

CW/TW : Swearing? Brief mention of infidelity — Summary : It's the start of a new school year and the last thing you were expecting was to become involved with the parent of a student. A parent who just so happens to be a pro hero. — Note : Grammar and I don't get along so don't expect much from that department. This is also going to be a series so yay for that. WC : 2k

✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎

April 1, 20XX [7:00 am] [In your apartment]

"We start the month with a new scandal!" The gossip announcer states.

"A new month but the same old stories with these drama channels." You roll your eyes as you slip your shoes on. You just couldn't stand drama channels that tried to exploit the lives of perfectly normal people.

You make your way down the familiar streets that lead you to the preschool that you work at.

[7:30 am]

"You're earlier than usual." Your coworker points out as she wipes down the kid's tables.

"New year means new healthy habits." You smile as you put your bag down behind the receptionist's desk. The truth was that you didn't have any reason to stay home. "Are we going to get any new students?"

"Just one. All I know is that he's a quirkless boy. Adelaide should know more." Your coworker says with a sad shake of her head.

"Hey Y/n." Your other coworker greets you with a smile as she comes out of the bathroom with cleaning supplies in tow.

"Hey Adelaide." You turn the television on and change the channel to a news station. "Any details on the new kid?"

"I was waiting for somebody to ask!" Adelaide exclaims as she puts the cleaning supplies down haphazardly. "Not only is he quirkless but he's also the son of a top hero! No I don't know what hero but still!"

You pick up the cleaning supplies as you listen to her go on about other drama in celebrity lives. You disliked this about her but you could never bring yourself to say anything. You still valued her friendship nonetheless.

[8:00 am]

"Are you going to be up in front today?" Adelaide asks as she hands you a pack of blank paper for the printer.

"Just until Kaede gets here." You kneel down and begin to press the buttons needed to open the printer just as the front door opens. You hear the all too familiar beeps of the jammed printer. "Give me one second."

You can feel somebody towering over you as you hurry to open the printer. You could feel their eyes burning into the top of your head as you finally manage to refill the printer paper.

"I'm sorry for the wait." You stand up and dust yourself off. "How can I help you?" You wipe at a small clump of lint that has attached itself to your pants.

"I'm here to leave my kid." A deep voice responds before you finally look up.

You look up and meet the eyes of the number one hero. The Katsuki Bakugo. You had to admit that he was more handsome in person but you push those thoughts to the back of your mind.

"And his name?" You sit down and power up the computer.

"Katsumi Bakugo." Bakugo responds as a small boy peeks out from behind his leg.

"Ah yes. It looks like you haven't filled out his emergency contact information." You click a few things before the printer begins to print. You grab a clipboard from inside the desk before you clip the papers on.

"You'll just have to fill these out and we'll be all set." You hand the clipboard over along with a flower pen. You smile at the sight of such a large man holding a bright pink flower pen.

"Hi." Katsumi says as his little hands lift him onto the desk to better look at you. " 'm Katsmi."

"I'm Y/n. Do you want to come back here and look at all of our toys?"

"Yes please." Katsumi says with a grin before he lands on the ground.

You open the door and watch him slowly peek in. Your smile grows as you watch his eyes widen in excitement. This was a part that you airways enjoyed.

"And who do we have here?" Adelaide asks as she walks towards you.

"This is Katsumi Bakugo. Little one, this is Adelaide. She'll show you around while I finish talking to your dad."

"Kay." Katsumi says before he walks away with Adelaide.

You turn your attention back to the pro hero who is looking at his clipboard in frustration. "Is there a problem?"

"No. Is this all?" Bakugo says as he hands the clipboard back.

You look over the paper before you look back at your screen. "That sh... Oh? Mr. Bakugo, it seems that we're missing all of Katsumi's information besides his date of birth and name." You didn't know how he had even managed to enroll his son into the school but you held back your questions.

"Can't I do this later? I have to get to work." Bakugo says as he checks his watch.

You look at the time to see that it is 8:15. You realize that he had probably decided to go into work late to be able to drop his son off.

"Of course. Please remember that our pick up time is at three on the dot."

"Yeah. Bye little man." Bakugo says before he waves at Katsumi who had been playing with blocks.

"Bye papa!" Katsumi says before waving with a block still in his hand.

You watch the large man walk out without another word. You couldn't help but admire the small act that his son would probably never learn of.

[2:59 pm]

"Miss Y/n! Look!" Katsumi exclaims as he shows you a drawing of what you assume to be his father.

"Wow. It looks amazing. Is this your papa?" You kneel down to his level to better hear the boy.

"Uhuh! Papa fights bad guys! Keeps us safe!" Katsumi says before you hear a soft alarm go off.

"Did you hear that Katsumi?"

"Yes." Katsumi says before he watches you pull your phone out.

"That means.." You stand up straight before letting the alarm capture all the kid's attention. "It's time to go home for the day!"

You instruct the children in cleaning up as parents and nannies begin to arrive.

[3:46 pm]

"Hello Mr. Bakugo, this is my third attempt at reaching you to remind you that it is past pick up time. Please call me back if anything has come up. I can stay until five if necessary but I will still need you to call me back." You hang up before you sigh.

You stand up and slightly move the curtain that covers the TV area.

Your frustrations melt away at the sight of Katsumi watching cartoons with Kaede's niece.

"Are you going to watch Miss?" Katsumi asks as he notices you.

You pretend to think it over before you nod. "Only if you two promise to keep it a secret from Kaede."

"Okay!" The two children exclaim enthusiastically.

You take a seat behind them so as not to block their view of the screen. You let yourself laugh at the childish jokes and gasp at the predictable moments. Being around children all day brought out the inner child that you wished had been better taken care of. This is how you would let yourself heal. By taking care of these children in the ways that you should have been taken care of.

[5:15 pm] [In the preschool]

" 'm hungry." Katsumi says before his stomach rumbles as if to confirm his statement.

"Then we should get you something tasty to eat." You bite the inside of your cheek as you realize that Kaede had already cleaned out the last of the afternoon snack.

You had eaten your lunch long ago and you didn't have permission to take a student off the premises.

"Just give me a second to call your papa." You give the boy a smile before he nods and walks off to color.

You walk to the receptionist desk and quickly punch in the number that you had no choice but to memorize into the phone. You hear the phone ring over and over until you reach his voice-mail.

"Mr. Bakugo, it is past five and much later than three. I have called you ten times. Katsumi is hungry and I know that it is unprofessional and against the rules but I will be taking him to eat. You can reach me at XX-XXX-XXXX." You hang up before you turn to Katsumi.

"What do you want to eat little one?"

"Shabu shabu!" Katsumi practically yells in his excitement.

You smile before nodding. "Well go put your shoes and jacket on." You watch him walk to his cubby before you grab your bag and the keys to the building.

You wait for him to finish putting his shows on before you lead him outside. You lock the door behind you before you look up the closest hot pot restaurant.

You feel his small hand wrap around your fingers before you smile. "Stay right beside me little one."

"Okay Miss!" Katsumi says with a nod before the two of you begin to make your way to the restaurant.

[6:20 pm] [In the hot pot restaurant]

"We'll be having shabu shabu. Could I get a bib as well?"

"Coming right up." The waiter says before walking away.

"Shabu shabu! Shabu shabu! Love shabu shabu!" Katsumi chants as he bounces in his seat.

You put your phone on the table to make sure that you will be able to see if you receive any calls.

"Ice cream later?" Katsumi asks with a tilt of his head.

"Would your papa let you have ice cream on a normal day?" You watch as the waiter returns with a bib and your food. "Thank you."

"no." Katsumi says with a frown.

"Then we'll stop by a convenience store and get you one sweet." You put the bib around his neck as he lights up.

"Miss is so nice!" Katsumi states with a wide grin.

You smile and nod as you place the food into the warm broth that the waiter brought. "But this is only for today."

"Tha's 'kay." Katsumi says as he watches the vegetables float in the broth. "Miss is still a nice lady."

You feel a warmth in your chest at his words. Kids were so pure and honest. It sometimes caught you off-guard how kind and easy to please they were.

[7:37 pm] [Outside of a convenience store]

You carry the sleeping Katsumi in one arm as you use your free hand to win a prize in a claw machine. You manage to get a prize in your first attempt but contain your joy so to not wake the sleeping boy.

You take your prize and smile contently as you begin the long walk back to the preschool.

[8:52 pm] [Inside the preschool]

You put the still sleeping Katsumi down on a bed before you put a blanket over him.

You close the curtain covering the sleeping area as you return to the receptionist desk. You begin to sort the papers that you had left throughout the day.

You wipe down the desk before you water your plant.

"What now?" You look around the space that you had organized before you went out to eat.

You pull your personal laptop out of the locked drawer in the desk. You power it on and take a look at your finances.

"I'm on track to pay the next month of rent but I'm behind for the next two months. You sigh before you look at your expenses. "Phone bill, bus pass, Netflix, Spotify, Hulu, Amazon... I really need to cut back."

You put your head down as you try to think of what to cut out. Your thoughts are interrupted by loud knocking.

You immediately look up to find Bakugo looking at you like a crazed man. You get up and unlock the door.

"Katsumi?!" Bakugo says as he looks past you and into the seemingly empty space.

"He's asleep." You cross your arms in front of your chest as you continue to block the entrance. "It's past three. You didn't explain anything before you left, didn't call, or do anything to let me know that you would be late."

"I know. I thought that my wife would pick him up." Bakugo says as he runs a hand through his hair.

You notice that he is still in his hero attire before you frown. "And why didn't she?"

"Miscommunication on my part." Bakugo says as he continues to look past you.

"You still need to fill out the paperwork before..." You can see that he is anxious to see his son so you cut yourself off. "Do you want help putting him in your car?"

"Yes please." Bakugo says as you motion for him to follow you to the sleeping area.

You gently pick up Katsumi and the blanket along with him. "i won this for him." You hold up the stuffed animal from earlier before he nods.

You carry him outside and wait for Bakugo to open the door to his car. You gently set Katsumi into his car seat before you strap him in.

You wait for Bakugo to close the door before you look him in the eyes. "Is this going to happen again?"

"It most likely will." Bakugo says truthfully. "His mother won't be around for some time and I have hero work. I'll try to find another school for the kid." He says before walking over to the driver's side.

"I'll take care of him." You watch him stop in his tracks to look at you. "I'll stay here until you can pick him up."

"Hero work can go until much later than this." Bakugo reminds.

"I know. I don't mind staying later as long as I'm aware of it."

"I'll pay for the extra time." Bakugo says with a nod.

You nod back before you step away from the car. "Drive safe." You watch him drive away as you try to not get lost in the thoughts of being moved around so much as a child.

You shake your head before you walk back into the preschool to collect your things and finally make your way home. Thoughts of the son and father lingering in the back of your mind.

[foxyreacts]

Here we go anecdote time.

My father used to write for Channel 2 news in Vegas in the 80s and early 90s. He wrote commercials and things. I am a very theatrical person, I love to act and I wanted to pursue it.

My whole life my dad told me why I shouldn't prioritize art. Why I had to get a "real job" first and if I made it big I could quit then. It's a very common lecture from parents of artists, I think. Luckily he still encouraged my artistic side, but with it came a plethora of infodumping about how film & TV work.

Now, I have a BBA in HR, so the below is my knowledge of unions and contract law combined with his knowledge from 30 years ago. Some information may be out of date.

Here are some lessons about entertainment he taught me.

Hurry up and wait: this is how the entire industry runs. Hurry up and wait is the expectation of every worker on a set. Everything needs to be finished yesterday and you need to (basically) kill yourself to make sure everything is finished and perfect as quickly as possible!! And then you wait. No one, the director, producer, cameras, etc., will be ready at the same time. BUT YOU MUST BE READY WHEN THEY ARE. You bend over backwards jump through hoops just to hold when you're ready. To wait on the call that's going to use you for all the 5 seconds you're needed. A lot of the time, you'll wait and wait and never be used due to decisions that are over your pay grade. Your work can just be scrapped with no warning and you have to move on to the next thing with no hesitation.

Work in film & television is generally done through independent contracting. To simplify, a contracted employee agrees to wages, duration of employment, and scope of work ahead of time through a contract. Often, they are paid once. In the United States, contracted employees are not legally employees of the company they contract with. This means several things about their rights, but mainly that they are not protected from their employers by the government, because again, legally, they aren't employed, they're contracted. Contracted employees do not receive benefits. They have to take taxes and social security out of their pay on their own. They generally provide their own equipment and any additional workers independent of the company. Beyond this, & imo the most important but not really relevant to THIS strike, the EEOC cannot enforce discrimination claims against the company for contracted employment. (acting roles in particular generally have BFOQs - bona fide occupational qualifications - basically things that prevent claims of discrimination. ie it's not discrimination to hire a man instead of a woman if the role calls for a man)

Because contacts are for a set duration, it may be months between assignments. There are large swathes of time where you may not have work at all. If you want to eat you have to either have overlapping contacts (kill yourself working to the bone) or have a second job in another field.

The first unions were created to protect trade workers & this is still their primary function today. In business school, we were taught that unions are generally outdated and are on their way out. (I had a lengthy argument in class w my prof over this) This is taught. Business majors entering the work force are taught that unions are archaic and generally useless. Literally only the HR students were required to learn about unionization and how they relate to business. It was otherwise an elective.

'why are actors striking aren't they all millionaires' here's a paywall free link to an article that mentions how most of the cast of one of netflix's biggest shows had day jobs bc they couldn't afford rent

[slasherhaven]

Hello! I adore your blog so much! Just a quick question, are you planning on doing part2 of 'Disruptive', Thomas x reader hc? Maybe reader finds out what happend to Ian and Cecilia (those were the names, right?)

Thomas Hewitt X Reader

Part 1 HERE

Disruptive Part 2:

Luda May had tried to shield you from the fate of your friends but you knew what was happening as soon as you heard Hoyt's gun go off. She held you as you cried, both from the feelings of betrayal and from the violence taking place outside.

She had continued to comfort you during the days following their deaths, shushing you and reassuring you. She had tried to get Thomas to see you, to take her role in comforting you, but he had refused each time. He was sure that you wouldn't ever want to look at him again, never mind be comforted by him. So, he took to avoiding you, assuming Luda May would bring you more comfort than anything else could.

Everything had happened so fast but you had managed to wrap your head around the main points and come to terms with them. Ian and Cecilia were dead, the family that you were now living with had killed them.

It was scary at first but the family never seemed to wish you any harm, Luda May always assured you of that. Even Hoyt refrained from threatening you or scaring you, apparently he hadn't been fond of your friends but had no real problem with you since you had been the polite one. Still, neither he or Monty went out of their way to make you feel particularly welcome.

In the end, you couldn't say you mourned your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend all that much, considering the betrayal they had committed. More than anything, you had been afraid about what your time in the house would mean for you. But...it had never meant you any harm, and you believed they would continue to welcome you in their home.

Luda May had apologised for your loss, apologised for what the family did but assured you that you were safe here. She had also asked you not to blame Tommy.

Some time passed and the family trusted you to move freely around the residence. You were still polite and undeservingly kind to the family, helping with chores and assimilating with the family relatively easily. You were a welcomed addition in everyone's eyes.

Still, Thomas was avoiding you and you had become highly aware of it. Now that everything had calmed down, you could notice the lack of the large man in every room you walked into. At first you thought it was a coincidence, now you were certain he was avoiding you on purpose.

Despite wishing that Thomas wouldn't keep avoiding you, you hadn't had much chance to confront him about it. At least, until today.

The house was pretty quiet and you were in the kitchen, having just finished some chores when you glanced out of the window. From your position at the window, you could see Thomas outside by the collection of cars. Hoyt must have asked him to strip down the newest car, the car you had arrived in.

You smiled to yourself, determined to take the chance to speak with him. Grabbing a chilled glass from the tray, you hurried outside and skipped down the steps.

It reminded you of a graveyard, cars in various states of distress lined up in the field. Some stripped down to their frames, others barely touched but parts rusting away.

"Thomas" you spoke as you approached him, getting his attention since his back was to you. You bit back a small laugh when he jumped and turned to face you, clearly surprised by your presence.

"It's hot, I thought you would like a drink" you offered as you held out the glass of freshly made iced lemonade.

He looked a little suspicious of your offer at first but his face soon softened before he took the glass from you.

He tensed some more when he realised what he had been doing as you approached. He glanced back at the before, looking nervously at you before hanging his head.

Even though he didn't say anything, it was like you could read his mind. He was worried that you would be upset about him stripping your car for parts.

"Don't worry. It was Ian's car, you can do whatever you want with it" you assured him with a small shrug, lazily kicking the flat tyre as if to further your point.

Thomas nodded, relaxing slightly, before drinking from the glass that you had so generously provided him.

You rocked back and forth on your feet for a moment as it fell silence, feeling a little awkward and sensing the tension in the air.

"Have you been avoiding me?" you finally asked, deciding there was no point dancing around the subject.

Thomas just shifted his weight, unsure of how to answer. He could be honest and say 'yes', but he knew that would sound rude, and surely you wanted him to avoid you. Or he could lie and say 'no', but he didn't want to lie to you and he knew you already knew the truth.

"It's alright if you have, I get it" you reassured him, not wanting him to feel guilty for it. "Just stop, okay?...I'm not mad at you and...and I miss you" you confessed, noticing how his eyes widened slightly at your words.

How could you miss him? You had only known him for a day before he started avoiding you. He supposed the only real company you had now was Luda May, so maybe...that was why you 'missed' him. He couldn't wrap his head around you having forgiven him and wanting to have him around.

"I have to get back before Luda May finds me gone but stop avoiding me, okay?" you spoke again when he didn't really respond.

This time, Thomas nodded, making you smile before running back towards the house. Thomas smiled to himself as he watched you run back into the house, hoping that you really had meant it and he wouldn't have to avoid you any more.

Thomas was true to his word and stopped avoiding you. Conversations should have been a little awkward but you found any silences comfortable and you kept the conversation flowing. He didn't talk, you had learnt that for sure now, but he listened intently and always responded in what ways he could.

Now, you spent more time with him that any other Hewitt. Now, he did the opposite of avoiding you. He was always around, seeking you out just for your friendly company.

You were thankful for those developments but a new concern was worming its way into your mind. Even when he wasn't around, you were thinking about him, you couldn't wait until you saw him again. Whenever he was around, you would smile, practically giddy to be around him again.

Could you be developing feelings for Thomas?

From the first day you met him, defending him behind the gas station, you had thought he was sweet. You had also found him attractive, tall with broad shoulders and strong arms. God, you wondered what those arms would feel like wrapped around you.

You could never make out all of his facial features because of his mask but you could see his eyes. Oh, how you adored his eyes. They were expressive and beautiful. You wanted to tell him that whenever you could see him doubting himself.

You wondered if he would ever take his mask off around you, if he would ever let you see his face. You had heard from Luda May that he had some sort of skin condition and that was what he was hiding, but you didn't care. You just wanted to see him...maybe he would even let you k-

"I'm so glad you and Thomas are talking again" Luda May's voice brought you out of your thoughts, reminding you of where you were. You were in the kitchen, helping cook supper, but had completely zoned out with thoughts of Thomas.

"He's a good boy and he likes you, he's just a little shy" she smiled to herself. She obviously loved Thomas and it did make you smile, it was sweet.

You sighed and you collected yourself, practically deflating as you pushed away the thoughts about Thomas. Yes, you could be honest with yourself, you had developed a crush on Thomas but it surely didn't matter. You doubted he returned your feelings, even despite how highly Luda May claimed he thought of you.

"It's alright, he was just worried about everything that happened..." you cleared your throat, hoping she hadn't seen the change in expression on your face. You didn't feel like being questioned about it right now. "Do you want me to come to the gas station with you tomorrow?" you asked, changing the subject. You didn't like the idea of her walking down there on her own.

"No, that's alright, dear. Hoyt is going to drive me up" Luda May assured you and you nodded. "I'll ask Tommy to help you out with some chores tomorrow, I'm sure he won't mind helping" she offered.

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle it" you shook your head, able to handle some clean up on your own.

"Trust me, dear, Tommy will be happy to help" she insisted, giving you a knowing look.

You were sure she knew something you didn't, but you couldn't question her about it because Thomas had walked into the room, making you both look back at him.

"Hey Tommy, we're almost done with supper" you told him with a smile.

"Would you help Y/n clean up after breakfast tomorrow?" Luda May asked and Thomas nodded without hesitation.

"Thank you, Tommy" you smiled at him. You tried to hide it but Luda caught the light blush on your cheeks as you turned back to the task at hand.

The next morning, Thomas kept his promise. Hoyt was taking Luda May to the gas station, Monty was passed out in front of the television, and Thomas had come to help you clean up in the kitchen. Well, he was supposed to be helping but he was basically doing it all, not letting you help when you tried.

He had been working in a comfortable silence for a while, as your mind ran while. You watched him work, watching the muscles of his back moving under his shirt, smiling at him whenever he glanced over his shoulder at you.

Sometimes you thought he might return some of your feelings but then your newfound insecurities would show their ugly faces. You used to be so confident in yourself, able to take rejection with understanding, it wouldn't shake you. But now you doubted yourself, now you couldn't stand the idea of Thomas not thinking you were enough.

You sat on the kitchen table, where Thomas had placed you and silently ordered you to stay making you laugh, and anxiously picked at the wood with your nails.

"Thomas?" you finally spoke, making him look at you. "Do I talk too much?" you asked. Ian had believed you were too much, too chatty at times, too eager, just too much and yet not enough all at the same time.

Thomas instantly shook his head. He honestly liked how much you talked, that you even wanted to talk to him in the first place. Your face would light up as you rambled about something that had happened that day, and it made his chest feel warm. He couldn't help it but smile whenever you talked so happily, even about the most mundane things.

You almost smiled but not quite. He seemed to be being honest, you didn't talk too much. He didn't think like Ian had...but that didn't help much.

"...do you think I'm attractive?" you asked quietly after a short moment of silence. You never thought you were the most attractive person in the world but you had been comfortable in your own skin, at least until you found out your boyfriend had been fucking your best friend for months. There had to be a reason for Ian to betray you like that, you must have done something wrong.

Thomas paused at your question, his eyes widening.

Surely this was a trick question, how was he supposed to answer that? Of course he did! Of course he thought you were attractive, but would you think it was weird if he said that?

Thomas had thought you were attractive from the first moment he saw you. He thought you were the kindest and bravest person he had met since you took that punch for him, and still smiled up at him like he was worth it. Ever since your first encounter with each other, he was smitten with you. And those feelings had only grown as he spent more time with you. He absolutely adored you. God, he wished he could tell you all of that...

You took his silence as a negative response. He didn't answer because he didn't want to hurt you...

"Sorry, you don't have to answer that..." you hung your head, looking down at your lap. You shouldn't have put him in that position, you shouldn't have asked.

Thomas panicked a little, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad. He just hadn't wanted to make you uncomfortable. He took a breath, trying to build up his confidence, before walking over to you.

You looked down at where your hand lay on the table when you felt Thomas' much larger one rest over yours. You teared your gaze away and looked up at him. He just nodded once you were finally looking at him again.

"Thanks, Tommy" you smiled. "I think you're attractive too" you confessed.

He pulled his hand away then, looking down at his feet. You were just being kind, saying what you were meant to say, or just straight up making fun of him.

"Hey" you frowned, quickly catching his hands in both of yours. "I mean it" you promised him as he met your gaze again, still looking unsure. "You doubt yourself too much, think too lowly of yourself" he tensed when you released on of his hands, bringing your hand up to his mask. "I don't know exactly why you wear this but I promise, whenever you feel like you can take it off around me, I will still think you're attractive" you promised, tugging on his hand to pull him closer.

Thomas let you pull him closer, swallowing the lump in his throat as he came to stand between your legs, hand still in yours. He had to do something, he had to savour the moment. Could you really be being honest with him?

He lifted his free hand and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making you smile softly up at him. He still didn't talk but you knew what he was saying. You too. You shouldn't doubt yourself, you were everything he could ever want, and he did want you.

Since you didn't pull away, Thomas' confidence began to grow. The hand he had hovering around your face gently cupped your cheek and he swore his heart skipped a beat when you nuzzled your face into his large palm.

Thomas wasn't Ian. Thomas clearly cared deeply about you, he wouldn't betray you, he wouldn't hurt you like Ian had.

You placed your hand over the only he held against your cheek, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm. Thomas just looked at you in complete awe.

It made him think back to the man you had arrived with, your boyfriend, Ian. How could Ian ever betray you like he did. Thomas had met your friend, Cecilia, and sure she was pretty but nothing when compared to you. And she wasn't even half as kind. Thomas would never hurt you like that, he couldn't even fathom it.

Here you were, tenderly kissing his palm and looking at him...lovingly, if he didn't know any better.

The sound of the front door slamming closed made you both jump, Thomas' hand falling from your face and landing instinctively on you thigh as you both turned towards the door of the kitchen.

"What the fu-" Hoyt began but cut himself off with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Y'know what, I don't wanna know. Just not in the fucking kitchen" he snarled before grabbing a beer from the fridge and leaving the room.

Both you and Thomas blushed at the implications of what Hoyt had thought you'd been doing, Thomas stepping away from you with an almost apologetic look.

"It's alright, Tommy" you smiled as you hopped down from the table. "Let finish up cleaning, okay?" you asked and he just nodded, assuming you were about to just ignore whatever the moment was that you both shared.

You smiled up at him again, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers through his, before guiding him back across the kitchen.

[nxrthmizu]

Crash and Burn

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | salt, lila salt

pairing | n/a

w.c | 3.2k

author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.

Enough was enough.

“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”

“Take the high road.”

“Be a good model student, Marinette.”

Enough. Was. Enough.

Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.

“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”

“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”

“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.

The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.

“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”

‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.

The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.

‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.

“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”

The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.

Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.

“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”

“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”

“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.

“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”

“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit!”

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”

“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.

“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.

Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.

‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.

What on Earth…

As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.

“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”

“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”

“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”

“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.

“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”

“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”

“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”

Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“

The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.

Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.

That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.

Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.

Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.

There must… There must’ve been a mistake.

A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.

[Lila]

Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?

[Alya]

Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.

[Lila]

She’s at home.

[Alya]

Okay, thanks.

Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…

… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.

“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”

Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend— But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.

“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”

The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.

“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.

“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.

“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”

“N— No, Mme.”

The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”

“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.

“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”

No one could breath.

“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”

“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.

“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”

Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”

Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”

Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.

“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.

The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.

“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”

this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.

also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops

[lovely-angst]

number ‘x’ fan

a/n: um, this was a good idea in theory until i started writing it and then suddenly i wanted to trash this fic lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: a trip to Hawks’ agency gone wrong when a crazed fan runs their car into a pregnant you and your two young sons

word count: 5k

05.05.21

-

If there was something the nation of Japan adored more than Pro Hero Hawks himself, it was his wife and the little family he had with her. His family was something he always talked about when given any opportunity.

To think it had already been five years since Hawks introduced you to the world still baffles you.

When he had come up to you that one day, bringing up the dreaded question of finally bringing you and the kids into the public and media for all of the world to see—you were very nervous, to say the least.

You knew how terrible the media could be with all of the gossip and drama. You weren’t sure if you could handle all of the attraction so suddenly. But your husband Hawks was always so reassuring and in the most nonpressuring way possible.

“If you’re not ready, that’s totally okay! I just thought it would be more beneficial for us if the whole world knew who you guys are,” he said gently as he brought his gloved hand towards your cheek with the softest smile. “I just want the world to finally know about my beautiful family. I don’t want to keep you guys a secret anymore.”

You couldn’t help but melt into his hand, bringing your own to rub those cute little avian features on his eyes gently. “I know, you sweet bird,” you coo, watching how his lips curve up the slightest. “I just don’t know how this could benefit us.”

“Honey, the world is going to love you. They’re going to love our boys. From the pro heroes to the supportive fans I have, we have, they’ll want to protect you too. Trust me.”

Staring up into those comforting golden eyes, you took a deep breath before nodding. Of course, you’ll trust him.

And soon, the fated day of your “debut” was finally here. In your arms, you held your sweet one year old boy, Yuto, while your three year old, Kazuto, clung onto Hawks’ legs adorably.

Though you were very nervous with all of the photographers and news outlets all around you when you turned to glance over at Hawks and saw that proud and genuine smile on his face, all of your fears washed away.

Thinking back on the memory, you let out a content sigh as a smile grew on your face. Thankfully, those last five years flew by quite smoothly with the occasional rough bumps with his angry fan club, nothing that worried you terribly.

And while life was going great for you and your growing family with Hawks, it was going terrible for a self-proclaimed number one Hawks fan.

Clutching the newspaper tightly, their eyes reread the words on the front page for the hundredth time.

‘Pro Hero Hawks shows his seven-month pregnant wife some PDA!’ with a photo caught by the paparazzi showing the two of you sharing a kiss while holding hands.

The violent grip she held on the paper caused rips before letting out an angry scream, tearing the thin material into thousands of pieces letting it pool around her like snowflakes.

Hearing Hawks’ voice coming through the television, she finally snapped out of her thoughts and tuned in focus again, turning to face the television behind her. Her eyebrow irked in irritation as she watched how he wrapped a hand around her waist lovingly and securely.

“I don’t know what I would do without her,” Hawks beams to the reporter who had asked about you, “I mean, have you seen her? She’s the prettiest lady I have ever laid my eyes on and the most amazing wife and mother to our kids!”

“People say she is blessed to be married to me, but I can say for sure I am extremely blessed to be married to her”

Roughly turning the television off, the fan stormed into her bedroom before slamming the door shut behind her, causing the walls to shake. “How could you do this to me!” she screamed as she ran up to tear at the photos of Hawks she had glued on the walls of her bedroom, causing the covered walls to become bare again. “I thought you loved me! I showed you unconditional love! I’m your biggest fan! Everything was going great until that—that wench showed up!”

Boxes and figurines were tossed around, swung off shelves, quickly turning the room into a mess of Hawks merchandise.

It wasn’t until she finally looked over at her makeshift Hawks shrine that she let out a sigh, a smile growing on her lips. “Hawks, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” she cooed, walking up to the Hawks shrine before kneeling down in front of it. Reaching over to brush her finger gently over the photo of the two of them—a photo she managed to obtain at a VIP fan meet.

Pressing onto the photo where Hawks stood, she continued to stare at it lovingly, “I know you love me, Hawks. I’ll make sure that it will be just us again.”

-

“Yuto, Kazuto, hurry up and get dressed so we can visit papa at work,” you say from in the kitchen as you finished preparing lunch for the four of you—five, if you include the baby growing in your belly.

“I can’t find the Endeavor doll papa gave me!” Yuto cries, running into the kitchen with tears. Turning around, you offer the boy a gentle smile before brushing your hand through his soft blonde hair.

“Yuto, we can bring the Endeavor doll another time, okay? What if he gets lost today in papa’s big work building? That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?” You prompt and Yuto looks down before giving you a nod.

“We can find him together when we get back, okay? Right now, papa is waiting for us to come see him and he’s going to show you all of the cool stuff he does! We can wear our Hawks jacket instead to match papa. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Hearing your words, the bright red wings on his back fluff up and flutter in joy before he runs back to his room in joy. “Okay, mama!”

Placing the fried chicken into each container neatly, you covered the lids on them and placed them in the bag nicely before Kazuto walks in and takes the bag, hauling it over his shoulder. “I got it, mom.”

“Oh, honey, it might be heavy,” you try, but Kazuto shakes his head, “Don’t worry, plus your belly might make you tired, so I’ll carry this for you.”

Quick little platters rang in the air before Yuto popped back into the kitchen beside his older brother, “I’m ready, mama!”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were, looking so handsome, just like their dad.

“Okay boys, put your shoes on and let’s head out the door to papa’s agency.”

And it was such a beautiful day for a walk. The sun was out with little to no clouds and there was just the right amount of breeze that helped keep the three of you cool during these summer days.

Even though Hawks’ agency was just a 20-minute walk, he kept insisting on calling you a cab so you wouldn’t have to walk so far with the boys while pregnant. Of course, you declined, saying how it would be healthy for you and the baby to get fresh air and to walk around—to which he finally and hesitantly agreed on before adding a “call me when you get here.”

It was a normal occurrence getting greeted by Hawks fans on your outings like today. Most of them along the lines of, “(Name)-san! You look great today!” or “Love to see you and the boys healthy!” and not to mention, “I love you guys!”

It was sweet seeing supportive fans that your hard-working husband has.

“Ah, look! There is papa’s agency!” you say, pointing to the large and tall building, watching how your sons’ eyes lit up in awe. “Wow!” Yuto exclaims, turning over to you while fluttering his wings. “Papa works there?” 

“Yep! Let’s go and give him a surprise!” 

Walking over to the crosswalk just in front of the agency, you held Yuto’s hand in yours as the three of you waited for the signal to change to allow you to cross the road. “The roads are empty today, but we still need to watch for cars,” you point out to your boys as they began to look both ways. 

Everyone was busy at work, so no one was on the roads besides some parked cars. The crosswalk signal changed and played a tune while you and the boys began to cross the street towards Hawks’ agency to meet up with your dear husband. 

The sound of squealing tires from beside you had caught your attention and once you turned your head, it was already too late to dodge the oncoming vehicle speeding towards you and the boys. 

Gasping, you tried your best to push your boys out of the way as much as you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

The corner of the car was still able to hit Yuto and Kazuto, sending them crashing a few feet away from you. 

Unfortunately for you, the vehicle slammed head onto you. Rolling onto the hood, your head crashed into the windshield, smashing it and rolling off. A small pool of blood forming underneath your head as the car sped off. 

Your head rang as your vision slowed significantly. Turning your head, you see your boys on the ground more than an arms length away from you as they struggled to get up. 

Placing a shaky hand on your belly, you just hoped and prayed your baby was safe from the impact, but it wasn’t looking too good for you, you noted. 

It was surprising to you all the thoughts and information were able to process through your head after such an event. 

A crowd quickly formed around you and the boys as the voices began fading into the background as your conscious state was beginning to fade.

“My boys...” you say weakly to the stranger, eyes fluttering shut as your attempts to stay awake failed. “Ma’am! Keep your eyes open! Someone call for help!” 

“Get H-Hawks,” you tried once more before you succumbed to the drowsiness. Suddenly, it clicked in someone’s mind. “That’s Hawks’ wife and kids! His agency is just down the road! Someone get him!”

Kazuto slowly sat up from the rough fall, looking down at himself to spot any injuries. Spreading his wings, they seemed to be in mint condition, although his hip throbbed and his leg was slightly bruising from the impact. It wasn’t until he heard Yuto sobbing that he turned to check on his younger brother.

Yuto was beside him, face scrunched up, shaking and sobbing as his eyes met those of his brothers. “I think my wing is broken,” Yuto informed, turning to give his older brother a glance of his droopy wing. 

And before Kazuto could turn to check on you, a stranger stepped in his view, blocking him from the gruesome scene where his mother lay. “Hey there, friends, it looks like you both got a little bit hurt. The ambulance is on it’s way to take you and your mom to the hospital, so don’t worry. I’ll sit here with you guys and keep you safe, okay?” 

The two boys could only nod.

-

Hawks spun around in his swivel chair eagerly as he waited for his wife and kids to arrive. Sighing, he took out his phone for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, glancing at the last text message you sent. 

From: wifey <3

‘Be there in five minutes! see you soon papa bird! <3’ 

But it had already been half an hour since your text. He knew that sometimes the boys took a little bit longer to get out of the house, but this was a bit off. Maybe he was just being a little impatient.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and he immediately got up to answer it, wings fluttering with excitement. But when he opened the door to find his assistant looking all frazzled, he raised a brow. “What’s up?” 

“Hawks, your family,” they stammered, out of breath from running around the large building. “They’ve been in a bad accident in front of the agency. A car-”

Before they could even finish, Hawks had spun around and jumped through a large open window from his office before flying down towards where they had mentioned. 

His eyes darted around quickly before catching sight of a large crowd. Sending his feathers down, his heart froze when he recognized you and his boys down there.

From the height he was at, he could already tell it wasn’t looking good. He could spot his boys’ wings from here, thankfully, shooting down towards them. 

He just wanted to see his wife and kids and they end up getting hit by some low life?

Hawks landed quickly at the scene before rushing over towards his boys, who immediately noticed their father’s large wings. “Dad!” 

Falling onto his knees, his hands roamed around their smaller bodies, checking for injuries before bringing them both in for a hug, relieved to see them alive and breathing. “Are you two okay?” Where does it hurt?” 

“My body hurts a bit and Yuto’s wing might be broken,” Kazuto informed before Hawks immediately checked Yuto’s wing before he let out a sigh, “Just a sprain. Don’t worry, birdie.” he replies, pressing a kiss to his youngest’s head. 

“Stay here, I’m going to go check on mom. These nice people will help you two, okay? I’m here now, don’t worry.” Hawks said firmly to the boys, giving them one last embrace before the stranger before stepped back in to stay with the boys as Hawks ran over to find you. 

Once his eyes spotted you, he felt like his heart had stopped and died there and then. 

To put it plainly, you looked dead—blood soaked clothes, unconscious and limp on the ground as the paramedics prepared the stretcher for you.

“(Name)!” Hawks called out, running to your body only to be stopped by a paramedic. “I’m sorry Hawks, but it’s best if you leave the rest to us.” 

“W-where is she going?” Hawks asked as he watched them gently place your injured body onto the stretcher, following beside them and peeking at you the best he could. “We’re going to transport her to the nearest hospital. We have to check and make sure we don’t lose the baby. We don’t have time for any more questions,” and with that, they carefully lifted you into the ambulance and drove off, leaving him there with a million unanswered questions. 

He wished he could be by your side, but right now, his boys needed him.

It didn’t take Hawks long to arrive at the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto. Reaching the emergency desk, Hawks immediately asked for you before receiving an answer that stopped his already shaking heart.

“There has been complications with her pregnancy, so they have to conduct an emergency C-section to try and save the baby,” they inform, Hawks’ blood turning ice cold.

“C-Section? But she’s only seven months along! The baby isn’t ready!” He cried, wings even more frazzled than before. “I understand your concern. That is why we will do our best to make sure the baby is as healthy as possible.”

Hawks could only stare in shock before turning to his two young boys, who looked up at him worried.

“Is mama going to be okay?” Yuto asked, his wing still drooping behind him. Hawks offered a small but weak smile, “the doctors are doing their best to make mama feel better. While they help mama, we need to get you two checked to make sure you’re doing okay,” Hawks continued, lifting Yuto into his arms.

“How’s it going, Kazuto? Does your leg hurt too much?” Kazuto shakes his head, “It hurts, but I can still walk slowly.” Hawks nods before reaching over to push his son’s hair back as the three walk to get the boys checked on.

-

“Hawks?” hear a soft female voice, Hawks quickly turned to see Fuyumi walking towards them with a small smile. Hawks quickly stands to greet the friendly face, “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Fuyumi.”

“Don’t worry about it, dad seemed worried when he told me about your situation. Anything to help a friend, right?” she says and Hawks couldn’t help but give her a relieved smile. 

“Well, these are my boys. Kazuto is my oldest and Yuto is youngest. Well, with our new baby, Miyako will be the youngest,” Hawks explains as the two boys stand beside him, looking up at Fuyumi.

“Hi,” she starts, bending down towards their level, “My name is Fuyumi, I’m going to take care of you while your mama is getting better, okay?” 

Yuto clings onto Hawks’ legs, “I don’t want to go.”

“You know, my dad is the number one hero, Endeavor. He’s kind of scary, but I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two about being a hero.” That caught the boys’ attention, their wings raising up. 

“Your papa is the number one hero? My papa is the number two,” Yuto says and Fuyumi smiles at him. “That’s cool, huh? Your papa and my papa must be great friends.” Yuto couldn’t help but give her a cheeky smile, scrunching up his nose. 

“Well, let’s say goodbye to your papa and let’s go to my house and we can eat, okay?” Gently taking their hands, Fuyumi brought them over to her side before the two boys wave goodbye to Hawks. 

“Take care of mama, okay?” Yuto says as Hawks gives him a wink and a thumbs up. “I’ll tell her about how cool you two were being such big boys and not even crying.” 

Hawks stepped closer towards Fuyumi, cupping his hand around his mouth, “Yuto’s wing has a sprain, so make sure he doesn’t use it and doesn’t sleep on it if he can help it. Kazuto’s left hip and leg is in bad shape and is pretty bruised, so please keep some ice on it.” 

Pulling away, Fuyumi gives him a determined nod. “Thanks, see you in a few days.” and with that, she left the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto in hand. 

Letting out a sigh, Hawks carried on over towards the waiting area while he waited for your operation to finish. It had been only an hour since he had gotten here, but it felt like forever while he waited for some sort of news. 

After some time, he finally received news, great news. 

His daughter Miyako had been born via c-section and had no underlying health issues. Unfortunately, because she was born premature, she would need to be monitored at the hospital until she was strong enough without the help of the equipment to finally go home. 

That was fine by Hawks, of course, anything to help his baby girl. 

Walking down the quiet halls of the hospital room, Hawks nervously made his way into the NICU, where his baby girl, Miyako, would be staying for some time. 

“I’m here to see Miyako, I’m the dad,” he states before a nurse leads him over to her quiet room filled with the background noises of the equipment keeping her alive and healthy. 

Gently walking over, Hawks peeked over where the little girl was being incubated, his heart swelling at the sight of his third child and first girl. 

“Can I touch her?” Hawks asked the nurse behind him gently and nervously, seeing that she was tiny and barely over five pounds. “Of course, just wash your hands with soap.”

Doing just that, he made sure to take his time with cleaning his hands and forearms before drying them and making his way back to Miyako. 

Sticking his arms into the small openings, Hawks brushed the back of his fingers across her small yet still chubby cheeks. A smile blossomed onto his lips when she stretched out from his touch and that’s when he finally noticed the little wings perched on her back.

“You have wings, baby girl,” Hawks commented as his fingers ran across her fuzzy grey wings. “That makes three of us, huh?” 

He spent whatever time he could with her talking about himself, her brothers and her amazing mother before the nurse politely told him to leave so that Miyako could rest some more.

With all the terrible things that had happened, Miyako finally arriving was a good that broke the hardship. 

Before he could visit your room, he was stopped in the halls by a detective who flashed him his badge, “we found the culprit behind this attack.” Hawks frowned at the detective, “Let’s go to a more private setting,” he replied as the two made their way into a private room. 

“What did you find?” Hawks questioned, mirroring the detective who pulled out a chair to sit in. “An obsessed fan of yours,” he simply stated, tossing out a photo towards the winged man, “found this in the vehicle she was driving when she hit your wife and kids,” I assume you recognize the girl?” 

Staring at the photo in his hand, Hawks let out a groan as he slumped back on his chair, “I should’ve never suggested bringing (Name) and the kids out into the public,” Hawks sighed.

“This would have never happened.”

-

“Keigo?” 

“What is it, sweetheart?” he hums, fixing the vase full of your favorite flowers before walking over to you and sitting in the chair that sat beside your hospital bed. 

“How are the boys doing?” you asked, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand gently when he slipped his hand into yours. 

It had been a day since you woke up, but three days since you had been admitted to the hospital, Hawks being one of the only people you had seen, including the doctors and your bedside nurses. 

“Well, they miss you that’s for sure,” he smiles and you offer one back. “Are they injured? I wasn’t able to check up on them before I—well, you know,” you try, but Hawks shifts your thoughts away when he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Yuto just has a sprained wing and Kazuto’s a little bruised, but they’re being cared at, at the number one’s house,” your eyes widened, “Endeavor’s?” 

“Well, technically, Fuyumi is watching over them,” Hawks continues and you relax once again with a smile, “Fuyumi has always been good with kids. They must be having a good time with her.” 

“And Miyako? How is she?”

“She’s cute and small and has these cute grey fuzzy wings on her back,” Hawks says with a small giggle, “her nurse says she’s doing just fine and should be able to go home in a few weeks. They still want her to cook a bit in the incubator.” 

You smile at him before closing your eyes and resting back on your pillow with a relieved sigh, “I’m glad that they’re all okay. I miss them so much.”

Hawks brings a hand to your cheek and you open your eyes to look up at him, nuzzling into his warm and large palm, “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I just feel like this is all my fault,” he starts, bringing his hand back as his gaze drops down to his lap, “I should’ve never asked to bring you and the boys out into the public. It was selfish of me, you guys would’ve been safer and this would’ve never happened.” 

“Keigo, it’s not your fault,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek, but your movement was restricted due to the IV needle in your arm. Hawks brings your hand down to your lap, opting to hold it in his larger ones instead. 

“We didn’t know this would’ve happened, plus it was just a crazy fan! Instead of you being mad, I should be mad because someone thinks they love you more than how much I love you!” you exclaim and Hawks couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. 

“Trust in yourself,” motioning him closer, you pressing a kiss onto his lips before a teasing smile formed on your lips “I love you more than you can ever imagine, you dumb bird.” 

And Hawks tucked your words into his heart and decided to trust himself on his next bizarre idea—visiting that crazy fan of his in prison.

Sitting in the cool, metal chair, Hawks waited patiently in front of the barrier for the guards to bring out his so called, number one fan—the person who tried to take out his whole family. 

It wasn’t until she came into view and noticed him that her eyes seemed to light up in shock and joy. Throwing herself on the chair, she grabbed the phone as fast as she could, bringing it up to her ear. Hawks doing the same.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you! You came! You really came to see me!” she cried, and Hawks did not give her a spec of emotion. 

“I’m only here to tell you a few things,” he started and she nodded excitedly. “You are a fan of mine and I adore and cherish my fans,” Hawks states, her cheeks turning rosy at his words. “I would expect you to do something as simple as respect me as a person, as a pro hero, and to respect my family—my wife and my kids.”

“I only did what I did because I love you!” she shot back and Hawks glared her down with his sharp eyes, “and because of that, I’m disappointing that you even have the nerve to call yourself my fan. I’ve blacklisted you from attending any of my fan meets or events.”

Her eyes widened before she began to shake her head in disbelief, “No, no, no...You don’t mean that! Hawks no!”

“But I doubt you’d be leaving prison anytime soon for attempted murder on three cases,” He shoots back, her sobs and wails audible through the thick barrier between them.

“But I love you!” she cries desperately, “don’t do this!”

Hanging up the phone, Hawks turned around as the wails from the unfortunate girl filled the air behind him, leaving him feeling lighter than ever.

And it seemed as if things continued to get better from thereon. 

You sat in your hospital bed excited yet nervously as the nurse carefully transported Miyako into your arms for the first time. As the infant shifted around in discomfort, you gently cooed at her, Miyako recognizing your voice. 

“Miyako, it’s mama. I’m sorry it took us so long to finally meet,” you say with a large smile as she turned to face you—her poofy and fuzzy wings resting over your arms warmly.

Hawks watched in adoration of the sight of his two favorite girls finally together in each other’s arms. Miyako no longer needed any medical assistance and you, finally bandaged and needle free. 

“Miyako’s been doing perfectly fine without any of the medical equipment and should be able to go home in the next few days,” your nurse says and your head shoots over towards Hawks’ excitedly. 

“Honey, honey,” you chirp, “We can finally go home in a few days!”

Hawks couldn’t help the chuckle and smile that formed on his lips, especially from how excited you were. You had been in this hospital for nearly a month now and eager to see your boys and to finally be home. 

Leaning over, Hawks pressed a warm kiss onto your lips before running his finger over Miyako’s plump cheeks. 

“I can’t wait to have you home and in my arms again.” 

And did that day finally come. 

You and Hawks made your way around the hospital with Miyako sound asleep in a stroller, thanking all the doctors and nurses for their help. 

And to your surprise, Kazuto, Yuto and Fuyumi were at the main doors waiting for the three of you. 

“Mama!” they cried before taking off towards you. Yuto wrapped his small arms around your legs as Kazuto, who was just a bit taller, wrapped his arms around your waist gently, pressing his face into your side. 

“My boys, I missed you both so much,” you cried, pressing kisses all over their faces, seeing them light up with joy after being separated for so long. 

“Would you like to see your little sister?” You ask with a curious smile, watching them suddenly turn timid, but slowly, they made their way to the stroller and found a little baby girl sleeping comfortably.

“She’s so small,” Kazuto notes, glancing back up at you with his proud big brother smile. “Hi, Miyako. You’re so cute,” Yuto giggles, watching her stir.

You couldn’t help but lean into Hawks at the sight. Everything was right. Even when you finally had the energy to check your phone, you were surprised to see how all the support from friends, family, and fans alike.

“The agency called and said we have like a million gifts from the fans to pick up. A lot of them are ‘get well’ gifts for you and the boys and some are baby gifts for Miya,” Hawks states with a smile and you tilt your head at him teasingly. 

“Miya? You already gave her a nickname?” you tease and he couldn’t help but look away with a blush which made you laugh. “Well, Miya is going to have the best papa bird and brother birds in the world.” 

But the feeling of being at home, away from the world and just with your family topped everything else. 

You were in Hawks’ arms, resting comfortably and watching as your two young boys watched Miyako in awe, commenting about how cute she was or how cute her small grey wings were every minute. 

“Keigo, I’m so happy,” you state, leaning into his body more as you let out a content sigh. “Thank you for everything,” glancing up, his gold eyes were already on you before the two of you connected with a kiss.

“I should be saying that to you, dove. You’ve given me a whole family to love.”

And for all the bad that had happened, being able to rest in the love of your life’s arms with your newly expanded family, seemed to wash all of that away.

[mandoalorian]

Sunkissed [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Warnings: SMUT; foreplay, oral (m! receiving), spanking, slight exhibitionist kink, cum facial, rough, Maxwell is a subtle (?) asshole.

Word count: 3k

Rating: 18+ only.

Author's note: YACHT SMUT YACHT SMUT YACHT SMUT. This whole one shot is based off this gif alone. I wish we got to see more of Yacht!Max in the movie because wowww this was a look.

Masterlist

Today was the day.

A few months ago, your agent called you with an opportunity you just couldn't resist. You were new to the 'acting' world, having only scored gigs in a toothpaste commercial and a local theatre production. This was different though; your agent stating there was a spot available for an infomercial. You weren't sure what to think. You imagined it being for some boring historical or political campaign and scrunched your nose up in displeasure. Nevertheless, you needed the money and all the experience you could get, so you prepped and went to the audition.

You were surprised when the directions your agent gave you took you to Black Gold Cooperative. You waited in a small room amongst a dozen other girls, before the CEO, Maxwell Lord, came padding in, doting his famous television smile. He hummed in delight, looking around, his eyes flicking between each girl. He pursed his lips together but didn't say a word, before pointing a ring clad finger at you and wiggling it in the air. "You're hired!" he grinned, his voice rich and filled with vibrancy. You knotted your eyebrows together in bewilderment, wanting to say something, but he was already gone. The other girls sighed and huffed, slowly disbanding and leaving the room. You were the last to leave, hesitantly standing up and tugging on the arm of a woman who worked in the office.

"I got the part," you bit your lip nervously and the blonde woman nodded her head, listening carefully. "But I don't really know what for."

"Mr Lord is shooting a new infomercial to promote the company, to try and boost investments." the lady explained.

"But I didn't even audition." you replied, genuinely confused.

"Why would you need to audition? Mr Lord is the star of all his infomercials. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty," the woman in the pink pant suit looked down at her clipboard. "We don't start shooting until summer, but we'll mail you all the details closer to the time." And with that, she was whisked away. You stood there in the middle of the office, completely dumbfounded.

About a week ago, you had got the details just as she promised. You showed up at the harbour fifteen minutes early that morning with a small case full of clothes that would last you the weekend. That's what you were promised as payment for the infomercial. Not cash, but a weekend away on Maxwell Lord's five star private yacht. To be honest, you'd rather have the money, but you'd never been on a yacht before, so you were looking forward to the experience.

"Right!" the director called, pulling her headphones down around her neck. "Mr Lord won't be boarding until noon so… just do as you please until then, but try and not cause any havoc," you looked around. It was only you and four other girls who'd be starting alongside the businessman. "He'll be boarding from a different harbour so we'll be sailing out there in around fifteen minutes. I'd recommend you all get ready for shooting."

You felt isolated. It seemed like the four other girls were quick to befriend one another, giggling and chatting about everything and anything. You didn't usually consider yourself shy but they seemed so different to you. You felt like an outcast.

You sighed, entering the yacht and finding your cabin. You spent a few moments settling in and adjusting yourself to the room before remembering the director had advised you all to get dressed and ready for shooting. You looked outside the small round window and couldn't help but smile. It was a beautiful, hot Summer's day. You stripped out of your clothes and into a floral bikini you'd forked out and purchased especially for today. You did your best to style your hair, but figured it was pointless knowing the salty sea air would get to it anyway. You felt like you had forgotten to grab something, but shrug it off, heading back outside to the deck of the ship. The golden sun rays beamed onto your skin and it felt amazing. Deciding you had a few hours, you placed down a towel and lay on the floor to sunbathe. You could hear the faint laugher of the girls who must've been gossiping elsewhere on the yacht, but you were thankful for a few moments of relaxation before shooting began.

You fell asleep. You didn't know how long you were out for, but it was long enough. You woke up when a cool shadow loomed over you, cutting away the sun beams and sending a shiver down your body. You slowly fluttered your eyes open, them widening when you saw who was standing before you.

Maxwell Lord.

Shit, had you really been asleep that long? You groaned apologetically, sitting upright and hoping you weren't in trouble. Maxwell was doting a blue and white vertical pinstripe button down, the top three buttons undone showing just enough of his bronzed chest to create a weakness in the pit of your stomach. His hair was golden under the sunlight, and he sported a pair of gold rimmed sunglasses. Upon inspecting closer, they looked like limited edition RayBans. He didn't stay a word, just stared at your body hungrily, admiring the way it was spread out.

"I-" you started. "Have we- have we started shooting? Shit, did I sleep through it?" you asked nervously and Maxwell couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"No, we start shooting in half an hour," he replied, shaking his head. Something about his presence still made you nervous. He sank to his knees, resting beside you and didn't tear his gaze from your body once. He placed his large, ring clad hand over your stomach. "Hot." he commented.

"Huh?" your eyes widened almost comically. Was he calling you hot? You shuddered under his touch, and it didn't go unnoticed by Max.

"Yeah, you're hot," his voice was gravelly and sensual as he began to trace his finger around your belly button, admiring the softness of your skin. "Quite literally burning up."

"Ohhhhh," you drawled out, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. For a second you thought he was coming onto you. And suddenly, you knew what he meant. You had fallen asleep under the sun for what might've been hours. It's not like you were going to be cold. "Oh right, yeah. I knew I forgot something. Sunscreen."

Max laughed light heartedly and it almost put you at ease, that is if you weren't already so nervous from his soft and delicate touches. "Don't fear," he smiled, dragging his fingers along your tummy. "Max is here." He pulled out a bottle of sunscreen from nowhere and presented you with it, a small and dorky 'ta-da!' escaping his lips. "May I?" he asked, slowly pushing you back down onto the towel that you were previously laying on.

It was hard to read his expression through the sunglasses, but you noted his quirked eyebrow and the wicked smirk that played across his lips.

"Okay." you affirmed with a reassuring smile. Maxwell pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to read the back of the product he was holding. For a second, you caught a glimpse of his dark, chocolate coloured eyes.

"This lotion has biotin in it, makes you glow like a teenager. Great for when you're in front of a camera," Maxwell explained as you heard him click open the cap and squirt some of the product into his hands. "Let me do your back first."

You wasted no time, following his instruction and turning over. Maxwell spent a moment, admiring the way your body was shaped so beautifully. His eyes trailed from the nape of your neck, down the dip of your back and along the curve of your ass. Your swimsuit panties left very little to the imagination and Max could already feel himself getting turned on, his cock twitching as he began to rub the cream into your shoulders. You hummed at the pressure of both of his hands as he worked at you.

"You know, I remember you," his voice was friendly and approachable, so much so that it almost distracted you from what he was doing to you. "I remember you from all those months ago. I remember the way you stood out from the other girls. There was just something about you I couldn't put into words… but now I see it." he didn't describe what exactly he saw but you could feel the butterflies stir in your stomach at his compliment. "I mean, look at you. You have a body that will sell. And I mean that in the best way possible." you felt his fingers play with the string that kept your bikini together. "May I?" he asked again. "Want to make sure I get every piece of your skin." he murmured.

"Yes," you breathed out, a little too shakily. With a gentle tug, the string came undone and Maxwell continued to rub the lotion down your body, his large hands travelling to the small of your back.

"This ass too," he hummed, giving you a little spank. You gasped, tossing your head back in pleasure. "Oh I see, you like that, don't you?" he chuckled, smacking you again but this time a little harder. You moaned, your lips parting into a perfect 'o' shape. He spent a considerable amount of time rubbing the silky lotion into the curves of your ass cheeks before working himself down the backs of your legs and to your feet. "Turn around and let me get your front."

You eagerly did as you were told. You rolled over, forgetting your bikini top had been untied from the back and gasped slightly when the thin, colourful material exposed your breasts. Maxwell tsked, shaking his head. You used your hands to cover your chest as the straps fell down your arms. "Don't worry darling, you don't have to hide yourself in front of me." he chuckled, slowly peeling your hands away from your body. He pulled off your bikini top and threw it aimlessly to one side.

He took the bottle of sunscreen and squirted a little more into his hands, before smothering it all over your chest. He dipped his fingers into your collarbones and gently stroked down the valley of your breasts. He got your stomach again, rubbing in the cream and making sure not to miss a single inch of skin. You moaned wantonly as his fingers glided across the hem of your bikini panties, slipping in just under the waistband teasingly.

You reached out, grabbing a hold of his wrists and dragging them back up to your chest, placing each of his hands so they were cupping your breasts. He squirted some more lotion, this time straight on your tits, and started to massage it into your soft skin. He still looked composed, despite his hard and leaking manhood pressed against the confines of his cream coloured, fitted pants.

His thumb grazed the bud of your nipples, even occasionally pinching at them to see if he could gain a reaction out of you. You moaned wantonly, feeling your folds grow slick with arousal as he teased you. Maxwell positioned himself on top of you, leaning down and pressing sloppy kisses all over your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipple and sucking on it greedily.

"Mm, what if someone sees?" you managed to whimper out as Max pulled away from you with a 'pop'.

"Don't worry princess, they're all preoccupied elsewhere. But we don't have long until the shoot begins and oh… look what you've done to me." Max pressed his crotch against your thigh so you could feel the thick, hard imprint of his cock. "You're gonna have to take care of this, sweet girl." he muttered, unzipping his pants and freeing his aching manhood.

You gasped as you took in the size of him, subconsciously licking your lips greedily. Max rose to his feet, jerking himself off as he walked over to the metal bars that gated the edge of the yacht. He looked over into the ocean, slowly pumping his length with one hand and with his free hand, he pulled up his sunglasses so they were resting in his hair. He turned back to you and pointed a finger, curling it and gesturing for you to come over. You didn't stand up, instead, crawling towards him with a primal glint in your eyes. Max leaned against the cool bars as the wind gently breezed through his hair and you straightened yourself up. You stayed down on your knees as you gently pulled Maxwell's hand away from his dick.

You felt your mouth begin to water with anticipation as Max's hands fell into your hair. You ran your fingers down his cock to tease the CEO the best you could, knowing full well this might be the only time you'd be able to exert your dominance over someone as powerful as Maxwell Lord. Max grunted under your delicate touch, and began to subconsciously thrust himself into your hand.

Eventually, you leaned in to lick the tip of his cock. You found yourself lapping at his small slit which was leaking with his salty precum. Your small kitten licks earned groans of pleasure and praise from Maxwell as he quietly begged for more. Max's breathing got heavier and he started to exhale sharp sighs, everytime you swirled your tongue against the tip of his cock. You finally sunk your mouth down as deep as you could, and Max's breathing became shallow as he mewled a string of dirty curses.

You cupped his balls with your hands, playing with them as you deepthroated the businessman to the best of your ability. You ignored the way tears pricked your eyes and your saliva mixed with his precum dribbled down your chin. Max Lord always liked to take control, and he began to thrust his cock deep into your mouth. But as always, he craved more. He craved for something warmer and wetter. He ran his fingers through your hair and pulled your head away from his manhood so his cock bounced against your face.

"Stand up." he commanded and you did so with a wobble. He pulled you over to where he was standing and bent you over the side of the ship, pulling your bikini bottoms down quickly and roughly. He spanked you again, earning a pretty little wail of surprise.

You felt him line his cock up against your soaking wet folds as his tummy pressed into your ass. He rubbed the tip against your entrance teasingly until you were crying out his name and begging him to fuck you.

When he finally pushed his length into you, you couldn't help but scream. You gasped, your fingers curling around the metal bars so hard your knuckles turned white as he set up a brutal and rough page. His movements were unforgiving as he fucked you so hard and fast, your poor legs felt like they were going to give way. But he had you pinned against the barrier, and the way he mumbled sweet nothings and appraisal into your ear only spurred you on more. He told you how much of a good girl you were for taking his cock so well. He warned that if you kept screaming, you'd alert the filming crew. He'd tease you, nibbling and biting gently at the skin as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

"Gonna cum," you warned, your moans becoming erratic as he kept pushing into that perfect sweet spot inside of you. Your walls clenched around his cock tighter than a vice as you came. But he didn't stop fucking you. Your body ached as he used your pussy to bring himself to his own climax.

"Ngh— fuck!" Max cried out as he doubled back, pulling out of you and pushing you back down onto your knees. He jerked himself rapidly and you noted the way his cock throbbed in his hands. "Gonna make a mess off your pretty face." he chuckled darkly. "Mouth. Open."

You did as you were told, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as Max's salty load roped into your mouth. At least— most of it got into your mouth. His eyes slammed shut and his cum sprayed onto your face and dripped down your chin and onto your chest. You couldn't believe how pent up he was. He slowly opened his eyes and gave you a small nod. You closed your mouth and swallowed his load with a hum of approval, licking your lips and fluttering your eyelashes.

"Five minutes until shooting!" you heard the director call and you gasped. Max smirked, taking a mental image of how sexy you looked with his cum splayed all over you.

"You better clean yourself up." Max laughed, taking your hand and helping you to your feet.

You were at a complete loss for words. Your hair was sticking to your skin from the sweat and your whole body was slippery with the sunscreen Max had applied earlier. Max grabbed the towel that you were once lying on and threw it in your direction. You noticed he had already tucked himself back into his pants, and, other than the few strands of dark blonde hair that had fallen out of place, he looked ready to go.

You wondered how often he did this. How often he fucked his employees on set before he shot important commercials or infomercials. There was something about his energy that thrilled you and filled your body with desire. He left you wanting more. And, knowing you'd be spending the whole weekend with him on this yacht, part of you figured this wouldn't be the last time he'd touch you like this.

Taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!)~

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Advice Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains spoilers for a date, 讨教之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Outside the window, the wing of the plane slowly glides past layers of clouds, and glaring daylight illuminates the clear skies above the clouds.

Retracting my gaze, I look at Victor as he sits beside me. He’s wearing a formal suit, and is currently flipping through LFG’s annual report.

A week ago, both Victor and I received invitations to attend the annual media meeting in a neighbouring city today.

Among the list participants, there are a number of big shots in the business, as well as rising stars in the media industry. Victor and I are included. 

While I’m heading there with the goal of exchanging pointers with those in the same industry, Victor is making an appearance in the capacity of an investor.

Watching how attentively Victor is examining the report, I quietly turn off the video.

Just a while ago, the company produced a program which created lively discussion on the internet.

Even though a majority of the audience and those in the industry found the theme of the program original and with interesting content, a senior from the industry left feedback to the contrary.

In an “Aspects of the Film and Television Industry” interview , Producer Xia mercilessly criticised the sizeable number of issues in the industry.

While I originally agreed with whatever he said, I didn’t expect that in the next second, I’d appear in the list of examples given by this senior...

He commented that my program was sensationalised, purposefully created controversy, and that producers have completely lost their personal integrity and their "original aspirations” when making programs.

There were people who stood by me, mocking Producer Xia for simply resting on his laurels, and not following the times and being creative.

Yet, his words caused my heart to feel heavy.

At this thought, I release a sigh.

MC: Maybe I’ll be able to get some advice and experience from people in the same industry at the annual media meeting later...

Victor: Why aren’t you resting a little more on the plane?

Without warning, Victor’s voice sounds at my ear. Even before I have the chance to turn the video off, his line of sight has already landed on my screen.

MC: Cough. I’m learning from a senior in the industry, and also thinking about how to seek advice from those in the same industry during the annual meeting.

Hearing this, Victor lightly shuts the report in his hands.

Victor: Did you know that this producer would also be participating in tonight’s annual media meeting?

MC: !?

Victor: You could learn from him in person.

Outside the window of the plane are pleasant weather and blue skies. At this moment, however, there’s lightning, thunder, and torrential rain in my heart.

MC: ...Victor, could I stay in the hotel and re-conceptualise the variety show proposal you shot down last week?

Victor: No.

Before I can fleece all the possible excuses from my brain, Victor reaches out, pulling my knitted hat over my nose.

Victor: If it’s a problem you can’t resolve, don’t waste time on it. Who was the one who boldly said she’d gather her energy to get advice from those in the same industry?

MC: ...it was me.

Victor: In that case, set aside the program, and think about what you want to ask him later.

With this, Victor closes his eyes, minding his own business.

But he pushes the arm handle in between us, and reaches out to lean my head on his shoulder.

MC: Victor, you...

Victor: Close your eyes and think.

-

Mentally preparing myself to make conversation with people from the same industry, I step off the plane worriedly.

The private car arranged by the organiser of the annual meeting sends us directly to the venue, not giving me the slightest chance to struggle.

Stepping into the venue, the staff hurriedly rush over and speak to Victor in hushed whispers.

Victor nods at them slightly.

Victor: I’ll head over there with them, and will look for you later.

MC: All right. I’ll meet those in the same industry myself, and hope I can have the “luck” to interact with Producer Xia...

After Victor leaves, I stroll around the venue aimlessly.

I meet quite a number of familiar seniors in the venue. During our conversations, I obtain a lot of practical and useful suggestions.

Talking about the conceptualisation of works, and their experience preparing a program from start to finish... I learn quite a lot.

But the conversation topics inevitably end up with that dispute weighing on my mind.

Producer A: Producer Xia is just too inflexible. That’s just the style of current times. It’s not as though one’s “original aspirations” can rake in money.

MC: Actually, what Producer Xia said is correct. I’m still very green when it comes to going in-depth for programs...

It’s just that the reason why I’m brooding over this is because I don’t wish for the senior I respect to misunderstand that I’m a producer who has lost my original aspirations.

Producer B: Young Lady, being able to accomplish so much at this age, and being able to grab the attention of the audience is already considered a success.  

Faced with the kind consolation from everyone, I can only wave my hands in front of me awkwardly.

After bidding farewell to a few people from the same industry, I plan to make another round, but I feel vibrations in my pocket. Taking out my phone, I realise that Victor is calling me.

Victor: Why are you hovering around?

MC: Huh?

I instinctively turn my head to look around, but can’t see a trace of Victor.

Victor: Stop looking around. Lift your head.

After my eyes roam the venue, they finally halt on the French window of the private room on the second floor. I can’t help but wave in small motions towards Victor, who is standing behind the glass.

MC: I can see you now. But what do you mean by “hovering around”... I’m clearly learning very diligently, okay?

Victor: So, how’s your learning?

MC: It’s not bad. I just met a number of really incredible producers. They shared lots of tips when it comes to preparing and conceptualising a program!

Victor: Why don’t you talk to that producer you admire most?

Hesitating for a moment, I express my dispute with Producer Xia in a roundabout manner.

MC: Actually, I had some divergence in opinions regarding the production of programs with this senior a while ago... It wouldn’t be that good to go over so abruptly.

Victor: So, you feel nervous in such situations. Why don’t you think about how it wouldn’t be that good when you’re being fearless and bold in front of me?

MC: That’s not the same thing!

I retort him without hesitation, and a soft “hmph” can be heard at my ear.

Victor: Does he look even scarier? Or is he more worthy of you trying to figure him out carefully, and pondering and worrying about being too abrupt? 

MC: ...of course not! Just you wait - I’m going over there right now!

Taking a deep breath, I’m just about to hang up when a staff’s voice drifts from the other end of the line. 

Staff: Mr Victor, you’ll have to be on stage in about ten minutes.

Astonished, I lift my head in Victor’s direction.

MC: You’ll be on stage in a while? Why didn’t you mention it?

Victor: The organiser invited me at short notice. I just have to share my experience simply.

MC: Short notice??

Behind the glass, I see him lowering his hand to look at his watch, as though preparing to be on stage.

Victor: All right, it’s time for you to return to your seat.

-

When Victor heads to the stage, it dawns on me that I haven’t looked for my seat ever since entering the venue.

I hurriedly open the invitation card, looking around according to the seat number stated on it. Surprised, I realise that I’m actually sitting next to Producer Xia!

MC: It can’t be that coincidental, right?

Eyes widening, I once again verify the seat number. Even if I don’t wish to admit it, the person seated on my right is Producer Xia, whose words have troubled my heart.

But logically speaking, my seat should be a little further behind...

Watching as the guests take their seats in succession, me standing here is even more conspicuous.

I have no choice but to summon my courage and walk towards the seat, pondering on this unexpected “surprise”.

??: Is that the producer from [MC’s Company Name]? Tch tch, the one next to her is Producer Xia with the big temper.

Maintaining a smile, I greet the seniors at the table, pulling the chair outwards incredibly softly.

But hearing my movements, Producer Xia turns his head. The eyes that pause on my face put an end to my chance of feigning ignorance.

MC: Hello, Producer Xia. I’m MC, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting you...

Just as the rumours have said, his temperament is odd, and this senior simply nods. 

The atmosphere reaches an impasse. Slightly sullen, I recall what Victor said earlier-

“What’s so scary about you?”

That’s right. I’ve already signed a five hundred million dollar contract with Victor, so what else is there to be afraid of!

Perhaps the little Victor in my head gives me a buff, and I steel my heart, speaking bluntly.

MC: Senior Xia, to be honest, a large part of the reason why I attended this annual meeting was to obtain your advice. Of course, what I hope even more is to dispel the misunderstanding you have about me.

Producer Xia doesn’t say anything, and I’m unable to read his emotions on his face. But saying these things makes me much more light-hearted.

MC: You criticised my program before, saying that I’m too fickle, wanting to chase after trendy topics, and have lost the “original aspiration” of what it means to make programs. 

Producer Xia: So, what are you trying to say?

MC: There are indeed many flaws in my programs. This is an issue arising from my own inabilities. But “deliberately creating sensational topics”, “chasing after views”... These aren’t my intentions, nor my motivation for entering this industry.

Mustering my courage, I tell him about the very first conceptualisation of the program he criticised, and the difficulties faced in the implementation process.

After a very long time, he sighs.

Producer Xia: Is the old-fashioned opinion of someone like me very important to you? 

I’m stunned for a moment, not understanding the meaning in his words. However, judging from his tone and expression, he doesn’t seem enraged by my abruptness.

MC: That’s right. Because you’re a senior I respect very much, and I grew up watching your programs. As compared to those programs which are trendy for a while, your works are classics which have withstood the test of time.

Even before I finish speaking, the stage is suddenly illuminated. The surroundings quieten down, and everyone turns their gazes to the middle of the stage.

Under the eyes of the audience, Victor walks onto the stage. 

He’s attending the meeting in the capacity of an investor, and his speech represents the choice of the market, and also represents the hopes of the audience.

Victor’s voice is neither too fast nor too slow, and is steady with strength. 

Victor: ...they key to a successful program lies in being able to continuously release a different voice in this diverse world.

Victor: Innovation will bring friction, but when interacting with all sorts of perspectives, it could create space and opportunities for thought within the industry.

Victor: Always accommodating to the market and following trends could erode a program and make it lose its initial style, rendering it into yet another industrial product with no originality.

Perhaps talking about the current situation in the industry, a few seniors from the older generation who weren’t paying attention at the start have their attentions piqued.

Victor: But to strike a balance between following trends and maintaining valuable opinions...

Victor: This is a difficult aspiration that every producer has to face and be unwilling to give up on.

Victor pauses for a moment. In a trace, I even have the misperception that he’s looking straight at me. 

I instinctively start clapping, but the surroundings are completely quiet.

It’s only at this point that I realise the speech isn’t over yet. According to the plan, an expression of gratitude and concluding remarks follow after this...

But I didn’t expect that Producer Xia would follow me in applauding, very quickly dispelling my awkwardness.

With this senior leading the pack, the applause offstage very quickly turns enthusiastic.

On the stage, Victor politely expresses his gratitude. When the applause fizzles out, he ends with the concluding remarks. 

At this moment, Producer Xia, who has been silent all this while, speaks.

Producer Xia: A while ago, I heard that after a young junior heard my criticisms, she quietly went around interviewing all the related audiences and guests again. I initially didn’t believe it, but I can see that it’s true now. My views were too one-sided.

My face flushes.

MC: ...just as you said, my works don’t relate enough to real life, and lack insight. After calming down and pondering over it for a very long time, I could only think of this stupid method.

Producer Xia: Perhaps just as that young man said earlier, I should change the way I think.

-

The afternoon sunlight is leisurely, and the fragrance of coffee ferments in the air, leaving me in a daze.

After the annual media meeting, Victor and I have come to a nearby cafe. 

MC: I heard that the speech on stage was requested by the organiser at short notice. If it were me, I’d definitely be unbelievably nervous. As expected of you, Victor!

Victor: I could see it very clearly when you were making small talk offstage.

MC: ...those were just normal greetings between me and those from the industry. Producer Xia even said that you’re very accomplished. 

Victor: Didn’t you say that his temper was as equally large as his popularity?

MC: Those were all just misunderstandings. Senior Xia even answered many questions that I didn’t get an answer to even after cracking my head over them.

In our seats in the cafe, I’m engrossed in sharing what I heard earlier, and Victor lets out a resigned sigh.

Victor: ...you said you were going to treat someone to coffee, so why are you only sharing your own experiences?

His reminder brings me back my senses, and my gaze once again lands on the menu.

MC: But...

Victor reaches out to take the menu from my hands.

Victor: It’s just ordering coffee. Why do you look like you’re in misery?

But when he sees the words on the menu, he purses his lips.

Victor: ...

MC: Do you know why I looked like I was in misery now?

Victor: Are you sure these are names of coffee?

MC: Of course!

Picturing Victor reading out the names of the coffee with a dead serious expression, I await for that image to turn into reality with much anticipation.

So, I deliberately clear my throat, leaning closer to him.

MC: So, Mister, may I know if you’d like “Sweet Sweet Milk Coffee”, or “Puckery Pure Coffee”?

[Note] In Chinese, the names of the coffee are meant to be sound cutesy - “甜甜嗲嗲奶咖” (“tian tian dia dia nai ka”) and “涩涩呼呼纯咖啡” (“se se hu hu chun ka”)

Victor: ...

Victor’s brows furrow indistinctly, then he shuts the menu.

Victor: The second.

As expected, he doesn’t fall for the trap. I can only let my enthusiasm wane, and I order two cups of coffee.

-

Completing the day’s itinerary, Victor and I return to the hotel early.

After washing up, I’m just about to blow my hair when I realise that there’s an issue with the hair dryer in my room, and no one at the reception counter is picking up my call.

After a moment of hesitation, I drape on my jacket, and knock on Victor’s room next door.

Victor opens the door quickly. He has already changed into casual homewear, and the room is in a state of complete darkness, as though he’s already preparing to sleep.

Victor: What’s wrong?

MC: I’m here to borrow the hair dryer. The one in my room can’t be used.

Victor turns his body to the side, letting me in. When I step into the room, I sneeze.

MC: Achoo! Why’s it so cold here? Didn’t you turn on the heater?

Victor: I just had a bath. I found it a little warm so I turned it off.

While he speaks, I turn the heater and lights on in the room. Borrowing the bright lights, I notice the grey circles underneath his eyes. 

The end of the year is LFG’s busiest period. He definitely didn’t get proper rest over this duration.

With this thought, I pick up the hair dryer on the coffee table, planning to blow my hair dry in my own room. But when I turn around, I bump into his chest.

MC: Why are you standing behind me so quietly?

Victor: Who’s the quiet one?

Probably finding my stunned expression humorous, the corners of Victor’s lips curl upwards.

Victor: You’re borrowing a hair dryer, so why are you acting so suspiciously?

MC: ...I’m worried that I’m disturbing your rest! So I plan to dry my hair in my room.

Without a word, he takes my hand, pulling me to sit on the sofa next to the coffee table. Then, he sits behind me.

Not understanding what’s going on, I twist my head to look at him.

Victor: Be good and sit.

He takes the hair dryer in my hand, lifting the ends of my hair out from my jacket, then stops.

Victor: Take off your jacket.

MC: ??

Victor sighs in resignation, then pulls gently at a corner of the sleeve of my jacket.

MC: ?! 

Victor: Your jacket’s drenched from your hair. If you don’t want to catch a cold, take it off.

MC: [blushes] I see...

Victor: Don’t let your imagination run wild.

MC: I did not!

Face flushed, I remove my jacket. Suddenly, I feel a cold shiver, and realise that I'm only wearing a spaghetti strap top.

I can feel the blood on my face rushing to the top of my head.

MC: [blushing] I... I should keep it on! Or I’ll feel very cold...

Before I even finish speaking, I feel a warm, broad chest pressing against me.

Victor: Are you still cold like this?

MC: [blushing] ...nope.

Victor switches the hair dryer on, gently fiddling with my hair. 

My back rubs against his cotton t-shirt, at the area close to his heart. It seems as though I can vaguely feel his heartbeat. For a moment, I can’t differentiate if it’s my heartbeat or his.

He holds up the ends of my hair tenderly, his fingers occasionally touching my scalp gently. 

My hair dances in the air in a disorderly manner, following the direction of the hair dryer, and they fall on my cheeks and neck.

A ticklish sensation surfaces from behind and in front of me. I bite my lip, but finally chuckle, unable to hold myself back.

MC: Hahahaha -- it’s so ticklish!

Victor’s actions pause slightly. Then, he bends his forefinger and taps the top of my head softly.

Victor: Even if it’s ticklish, bear with it.

I tense myself up, sitting in Victor’s arms, trying my best to level my breathing.

Victor: Relax. Why are you so nervous?

MC: ...It’s not like I can relax just because you tell me to relax. Oh yes, Victor, did you assign someone to handle today’s seating arrangements?

Victor: Mm. Didn’t you find it a pleasant surprise that you could interact with the producer you admire?

Recalling the nervousness and awkwardness of conversing with Producer Xia, I can’t help but mutter softly.

MC: Yes yes yes, I’m grateful for the serious scare you prepared for me...

Victor: Looks like the both of you had a joyful interaction, and that you’re no longer preoccupied by the matter that troubled you.

Hearing his teasing remark, I lift up my head, the back of my head almost bumping into Victor’s chin.

MC: How did you know that? Did you watch the “Aspects of the Film and Television Industry” interview?

The hair dryer hums at my ear, but I can still capture the soft “hmph” he leaves in the air.

Victor: Whenever that senior was mentioned, your expression would turn very nervous. When other people brought up their opinions on your program, you’d start tweaking your ears and scratching your cheeks in anxiousness, deliberately evading the topic. The program proposals you’ve been giving me have fewer errors. But at the same time, your ideas have become increasingly conservative.

Victor speaks unhurriedly and with reason. When I hear this, I break into cold sweat, and shirk my neck in guilt. 

MC: So you could already tell since early on.

Victor: At first, I thought such changes would be beneficial to your growth. But when I saw a certain dummy becoming more and more roundabout, and having a more negative attitude, I thought she needed someone to give her a push.

MC: ...aren’t you worried that with such a violent push, I’d fall?

Victor: If that producer insisted on being at odds with you, what would you have done?

Victor’s counterquestion sounds above my head. For a moment, I’m left in a daze, and I give it serious thought. 

Actually, I’ve long since known the answer to this question. After all, from a very long time ago, Victor already told me that the opinions of others aren’t that important.

It’s just that when applying it to myself, I realise how difficult it is to follow through with such words. 

MC: It just means that I ought to work even harder, and use my subsequent works as proof... no, as a counterattack!

Victor: Being able to think this way means you aren’t beyond cause.

He taps the top of my head gently again.

MC: In that interview episode, Producer Xia said that the most important thing in making programs is to maintain that “original aspiration”. I think what that meant was - as producers, we not only have to maintain professionalism, but have to persevere in our own steps. The production of programs has always been an open-ended question. If I were to cater to the opinions of others, it would be going against my own “original aspiration”. So what I’m thinking is that perhaps from the very beginning, the question I should pondering on is how to better express and convey things.

Out of habit, I lift my head to meet his eyes, wanting to seek Victor’s affirmation.

Victor lets out a breath, gently tidying my hair. The friction from his finger pads brings with it an almost indistinct tenderness and patience. 

Victor: All right, your hair’s dry, and you’ve thought through the problem. You should go back.

MC: Huh?

Victor grabs a blanket from the side, covering my exposed shoulders tightly.

Victor: Or do you want to laze here for an entire night?

Tugging the blanket over myself to cover my scorching cheeks, I speak boldly.

MC: But the notebook on your desk is still lit. Are you planning to continue working? I want to advance together with CEO Victor, and re-conceptualise that proposal you find too conservative. After all, if Producer MC makes an excellent program, it’d be a good thing for its investment partner LFG, right?

I speak earnestly and sincerely, but Victor is tickled by my dead serious tone.

Victor: Lacking great wisdom and knowledge, but clever in trivial matters.

From the reflection in the glass of the French window, I can vaguely see a small smile on Victor’s lips. 

Victor: Since you said you want to “advance together”, you aren’t allowed to be timid. Being bold in front of me - isn’t that what you’ve always been good at?

-

Moments and Texts: here

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[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

@larkiaquail

@noemiescuriosity

@mycatshuman

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@vpow

@ray-does-stuff

@sirprplsnail

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

hii!! this is actually my first time requesting so I'm a little bit nervous about this. but would it be alright to ask for hcs with hinata, bokuto, and iwaizumi with an s/o who has this irrational fear of when they're walking and they don't see the person they're walking with in front of them or beside them, they (s/o) automatically assume that the person they're with left them and starts crying or pinging their phone? and when they ask they're s/o about it, they tell them that it was because when they were younger their mom always made them walk in front of her when she's in a bad mood and younger them just thought that their mom made them do this so that she could abandon them and leave them to be lost? it's totally fine if you don't want to do it! ^^

• Hinata, Bokuto, + Iwaizumi W/ a S/O Who Has a Fear of Getting Lost •

warnings: descriptions of a panic attack

genre: comfort + fluff

characters: hinata, bokuto, + iwaizumi

a/n: i’m so sorry that these are crappy, it’s been so long since i’ve written hcs 

•Hinata•

hinata was beyond excited to bring you along with him to the winter festival

not only did he get to stuff himself full of good food but he got to spend the entire night spending time with you

being as eager as he was, he picked you up early from your house and dragged your intertwined hands towards the bright lights that shone down the road

the winter festival was an extremely popular event in miyagi so it wasn’t a huge surprise that when the two of you finally arrived, it was packed with people

hinata payed the large crowd no mind, too focused on the bright lights and the smells flying through the air to care about the amount of people

you on the other hand began to grow worried, with the extreme amount of attendees the chances of getting separated from hinata were through the roof

however, you decided to push away your worries so you could just enjoy the night, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves and reaching a hand out to grip onto hinata’s sweater

but nothing but the cold night air met your fingers as they curled back into your palm

in a moment of panic your gaze swept across the crowd, eyes growing wide when you failed to spot your boyfriend

with shaky hands you fished around in your bag for your cellphone, quickly scrolling through your contacts and clicking on hinata’s name

the dial tone blared through your ears as chants of ‘please pick up’ fell from your lips

after what felt like an eternity the line connected and you could’ve swore you let go of a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding

“Y/N where’d you go? I turned around but you weren’t there. Stay put and i’ll find you, kay?”

the line cut off as quickly as it connected and you were left clutching your cellphone in the middle of the busy street

you manged to make your way to the sidewalk in your frightened state as familiar thoughts slipped into your mind

he had told you he was on his way to come find you but all your brain had registered was that hinata had left you and was never coming back

it wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on your shoulder that you were ripped from those thoughts

your glossy eyes moved from the cracked pavement to the bright grin that was spread across hinata’s face

“There you are! Sorry, i should’ve made sure you with me-”

he stopped his train of thought when he noticed the hurt painted across your face

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“T-Thought you left me.”

his heart broke at those words as he slid down next to you and pulled you into a tight embrace

“I’m super sorry Y/N. I promise i’d never leave you on purpose. You mean so much to me and there’s no where else i’d rather be then right here with you.”

a sigh of contentment left your lips as you leaned into his touch, knowing he meant every word

“It’s okay Sho, i’m just glad you’re here now”

he beamed at you as he moved to stand up, extending a hand towards you

“Yup, and now that i am we can go have fun!”

the two of you spent the rest of the night laughing and smiling with one another, hand in hand as you stuck by each other’s side

•Bokuto•

bokuto was so excited to take you along to watch your first in-person pro-volleyball game

of course you’d attend his games before but this was the first time you’d be able to see a professional game from somewhere other than his living room television

you were pretty fired up too, growing to love the sport just as much as bokuto did during your relationship with him

the two of you walked into the stadium hand in hand, bokuto rambling in excitement as his eyes trailed across the environment

you followed his gaze, looking about the huge structure around you and the many people that wandered throughout it

you knew professional games were obviously popular but you didn’t expect it to be so crowded

you were growing nervous, subconsciously squeezing bokuto’s hand out of habit as your sight shifted from one person to the next

bokuto’s eyes wandered to you due to the increased amount of pressure youd applied to his hand, wondering what had you so fidgety

“What’s wrong Y/N? Something bothering you? Oh, do you have to go to the bathroom? I’ll show you where it is!”

before you could protest, you were being dragged towards the direction of the restroom

it’s not as if you could turn down bokuto’s offer after he gave you such a confident smile at the door to the bathroom, so you gave him a quick hug and walked in

it was much more peaceful behind the closed doors, the soft music drowning out the anxiety that had previously overwhelmed you

after spending a believable amount of time in the restroom you turned to examine your appearance in the mirror once more before stepping outside

your gaze imminently wandered to the place where your boyfriend had stood prior

only to find that he was no longer there

your eyes quickly darted around the area, head turning almost painfully fast in attempts to scout out bokuto, but it was no use

your chest began to tighten as your breath picked up in pace

you felt light headed, dizzy, and so incredibly lonely

why did he have to leave you here? where could he have gone?

you stumbled, attempting to grip the wall to steady yourself but you missed

before your head met the floor you heard the crinkle of wrapping as a large hand gripped at your arm

you sank to the floor with the figure before you were wrapped in a comforting hug

“Y/N, it’s okay, i’m here. Just try and breathe for me, okay? Look, you can listen to my heartbeat too!”

your head was lightly pushed up against bokuto’s chest as his heartbeat filled your ears

slowly, your breath began to match the soothing sound as you came down from your breakdown

once your breathing had returned to normal bokuto pulled you away from his grasp and gave you a frown, hair falling with it

your eyes wandered around and moved from the sad boy in front of you to the snacks spread across the floor behind him

“I’m sorry Y/N, i just went to grab us snacks. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I love you a whole bunch and i promise i’d never leave you all by yourself like that.”

your shaky hand moved to cup bokuto cheek as you gave him a soft smile

“It’s okay Ko, you’re here now and that’s all that matters. Now let’s go watch that game, kay?”

his grin returned as he pulled you into another hug

“Sounds good to me.”

The two of you made your way to the stands with snacks in hand and spent the rest of the day in each other’s company

•Iwaizumi•

you and iwaizumi decided to spend your sunday afternoon window shopping in the plaza near his home

both of you had things to purchase so it made the most sense to kill two birds with one stone and spend time with one another as you found what you needed to

your dates together were always like this, never too fancy but always giving you the opportunity to spend time with one another, which was more than enough for the both of you

the two of you walked side by side down the sidewalk, chatting and peering through windows at different merchandise on display

normally it wasn’t too packed when you came to visit the shopping center but it was the weekend after all and pretty close to a holiday so it was a lot more packed than usual

however, you decided to pay it no mind today, way too focused on that adorable bag you spotted in a bouquet the two of you had just passed to worry about something like a crowd

you turned to tap iwaizumi on the shoulder so you could drag him to the shop, only to realize he wasn’t next to you like he had been prior

in fact, as your gaze wandered about the crowd you found that he was nowhere in sight

imminently, panic began to set in as tears pricked your eyes

he was gone and you had no idea where he could be in this sea of people

and although this wasn’t intentional on iwaizumi’s part, your brain told you that maybe he wanted to leave you stranded on the busy streets

your sniffles turned into quiet sobs as you cried into your hands, eyes still trying to find your boyfriend through blurry vision

swiping at your tears didn’t help your search either as muffled hiccups began to escaped your lips

you were about to completely give up and breakdown when you heard your name being called out somewhere in the crowds of people

eyes widened as you began frantically looking around for the source of the familiar voice and soon enough you spotted iwaizumi running towards you, a concerned look on his face

you sprinted towards him, sobs still wracking your body as you arms found their way around his torso, burying your face into his broad chest

he returned the embrace, holding you tightly as he felt your hot tears wet his grey t-shirt

“It’s okay Y/N, i’m right here. I’m so sorry, i’m not going anywhere i promise. I love you so much and id never leave you like that.”

after some time your sobs returned to mere sniffles in iwaizumi’s grasp

you felt safe and content knowing that your boyfriend was in arms reach once more

once you’d calmed down, the two of you continued your shopping, iwaizumi holding your hand just a little bit tighter this time around

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[excusemin]

hyung line reaction to s/o with a curvy body

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader, Yoongi x female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x female reader

Rating: 18+, M(mature)

Genre: established relationship, fluff?, smut

Warnings: softish dom! hyung line, sub! reader, slightly whiny reader (bratty ones too lol), heated make outs?, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls play it safe bro), slight overstimulation, creampie, teasing, hickeys 

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary/ Request: “Hello!👋🏼 can I request Hyung line reacting to their s/o with a curvy body, like hips and thighs. smut or fluff or both teehee 💜”

A/N: Hello, here’s another request I was able to finish. I hope you enjoy it anonnie, thank you for requesting this, it was really fun. Requests/ asks are still open, so feel free to request something :)  Huge thank you to @dontaskshhhhh​ for reading this for me before I posted it. (beta reading or whatever it’s called lol????) Also, if there’s any other warnings that need to be added, please let me know. I’ll be happy to add them for y’all. Hope y’all enjoy, any feedback would be appreciated :) 

Seokjin

It was pitch black, the only light source present came from the television right in front of you. The movie had been long forgotten. Seokjin’s plump lips were locked with yours. One small kiss had led to a heated make out. Passionate tongues fighting for dominance but you both knew who had the upper hand. 

Along with the movie, both of your clothes have been long forgotten on the floor. His large hands explored every inch of your body with fervor. They lingered longer over your freshly exposed thighs.

He’s seen you completely bare so many times but he swore every time felt like the first time. Seokjin’s cock twitched when your thick thighs pulled apart to reveal your glistening pussy. A groan left his swollen lips as his slender fingers parted your lips to reveal your sopping core. The cool air causing you to clench around nothing.

“Baby, come here. Sit on my face.” Your face flushed with more heat as you processed those words. Noticing your hesitation, Seokjin’s fingers gently tilted your chin as his eyes searched for yours. 

“Baby, do you trust me?” You nodded once you met his softened eyes. His gaze comforting you immediately.

“Just wanna make you feel good baby.” His lips brought yours into a passionate kiss as he pulled your body back with his. Large hands tracing circles on your hips. Barely pulling apart, he held your hips firmly to grind himself into your needy core. The friction easing both of you into pleasure but you needed more and he was more than glad to give in.

“Wanna taste you. C’mere baby.” He mumbled against your swollen lips as you started shifting yourself over him. Seokjin’s hands were on your hips to help guide you where he wanted you. Once your body was settled, you looked down in between your thighs to meet the lustful glint in your boyfriend’s eyes. The lust in his eyes sent a new wave of arousal down your core. 

“You’re so beautiful baby, you look so fucking good.” Seokjin took a good look around how you looked right on top of him and he felt his cock twitch. Not wanting to waste any more time, he placed his hands on your thighs and brought you closer to his mouth. Your boyfriend’s tongue immediately licked a bold stripe up your slit and groaned once he tasted your arousal. 

His hands burned into your skin as his pointed tongue traveled up and down your slit. His tongue toyed around your seeping hole in circles, greedily taking in all the arousal that slipped out of your clenching hole.

Seokjin wanted to play along for much longer but he needed you on his now throbbing cock. He looked up at you to find your eyes shut tightly with your bottom lip caught in between your teeth. Smirking, he immediately brought his honeyed tongue up to your throbbing clit and placed bold licks on bud until he heard those sounds he was craving for. Once your moans flowed freely from your mouth, Seokjin’s tongue prodded itself into you. His hands firmly against your hips, helping you ride his tongue. 

The feeling of his tongue inside of your brought you closer to your high than you both expected. Pure bliss flowed through your veins as your boyfriend moaned against your core, the vibrations pushing you to where you needed. He aided you in drawing out your high and took in all of your release. Feeling you twitch against him, Seokjin placed a gentle kiss on your mound before he pulled away.

“Feeling okay baby?” Your body molded into his as soon as he helped you lay on top of him. 

“I’m feeling good daddy.” You closed your eyes and shyly mumbled against his chest. 

“Good, cause the fun has just started.”

Yoongi

Tonight was a night to celebrate. Who wouldn’t want their anniversary to be celebrated? 

You had planned to make a small dinner at home for your beloved boyfriend but Yoongi being Yoongi, he wanted to go all out. Before he left out to work today, he had left a lavish box on top of your shared bed. When you opened the box, you discovered a beautiful cocktail dress along with a handwritten note. 

‘Wear this tonight sweetheart, can’t wait to see you in it. -Love, your genius boyfriend.’

Standing in front of the mirror, you softened out the black silky fabric that hugged every curve in your body. The black dress complimented your curvy figure quite nicely. Turns out that Yoongi had been paying attention when you tried on clothes in the fitting rooms of stores.

Too lost in how you looked, your boyfriend peered out of the restroom dressed up in a suit, struggling to adjust the tie. He froze at the sight of you standing in front of the mirror. His eyes trailed over your figure as he neared you, you looked beautiful in his eyes and he was going to make sure you felt it. His arms curled around your waist and pressed your body against his front.

“You look so fucking perfect sweetheart.” You blushed as you felt him talk lowly against your ear. He pressed his growing bulge against your round ass as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“You know, we still have enough time. I really fucking need you right now.” Arousal slipped out from your core, slowly trickling down your thick thighs. Yoongi walked backwards to the edge of the bed with your body against him. 

He bent you over the edge of the bed causing your breasts to be pressed into the mattress. His hands trailed down to the hem of your silky dress and picked it up to uncover your body. He hummed at the sight of your bare ass on display for his eyes. 

“You’re really out to kill me today sweetheart. I’d take all my time with this but I can please you all fucking night long when we come back home you little minx.” He growled in your ear as he released his hardened cock from his restricting slacks. The tip of his length rubbed deliciously against your slick pussy. You both let out sighs of relief as Yoongi’s cock entered your tight hole. Waiting for a few minutes as you adjusted around his length, Yoongi trailed his fingertips over your thick thighs and whispered sweet words against the nape of your neck.

You pushed your hips into Yoongi’s to let him know you were ready, the movement causing the tip of his cock to be snuggled in deeply into your warm walls. Placing a kiss on the nape of your neck, your boyfriend pulled his body back to take in the sight of your body underneath him. His hands settled on your curvy hips and pulled out his length slightly before thrusting his hips into you. 

You felt all of his cock deliciously thrusting in and out of you. You felt every vein and the tip of his cock as he thrusted deeply into your heat. You felt all of him, you felt full and you felt loved. 

The pulsing feeling in your core was crystal clear as you tightened around Yoongi’s cock. Groaning, he brought his torso down to your back and rested his forearms on the bed as he picked up his pace.  His hips stuttered as he neared his high but he never faltered his pace. He was entirely focused on making sure you got your pleasure first. One particular snap of his hips pushed you into a state of bliss as you released all over his throbbing cock. 

The sweet sounds that rolled out of your lips and the tightness of your walls together pushed Yoongi over the edge. His hips pressed tightly against your ass as he painted your walls white. 

Once both of your highs were slowly drawn out, Yoongi placed sweet kisses along the parts of your body he could reach up until he reached your ear.

“Happy anniversary sweetheart. I love you.”

Hoseok

Hoseok had just gotten out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his hips as he dried off his body with another. Making his way to your shared bedroom, he was expecting you to still be sound asleep over his pillow. 

“Seokie, you’re home.” He jumped at the unexpected sound of your voice. His eyes flickering over to you and he choked when he saw your ass peer out of his shirt that you were wearing. The covers were right below your round ass. 

“Hello baby, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” His eyes looked into yours nervously as he sat down on the bed right next to you. Hoseok’s fingers moved to remove the loose strands that were covering your face and placed a small kiss on your forehead. You pressed your face closer to his pillow and you made sure you arched your back, knowing exactly that’s where his gaze was going to be. While his gaze was on your exposed ass, yours was on the tent forming against the towel wrapped around Hoseok’s waist. 

“You’re not fooling me princess. Tell me what you want.” He straddled the back of your thighs as his palms smoothly ran up and down your curves.

“I want you Seokie.” You felt his hardened cock pressed against your behind as he brought his lips closer to your ear.

“You have me princess. All of me.” The mixture of his warm breath hitting your skin and his low voice speaking right into the back of your ear, instantly ruining your panties. 

“Take your shirt off and get on all fours princess.” Once his weight was off from you, you quickly scrambled up on your knees to get the fabric off from your body and settled back exactly how he wanted you. You arched your back, your bare breasts making contact with the bed sheets as your panty clad ass perked up. The damp patch on your panties was enough for your sweet boyfriend to lose all his self restraint and ripped up your panties. Another pair of panties now long forgotten as the cool air hit your weeping core.

Thighs quivering as Hoseok’s cock slid inside of you, filling you to the hilt. His hands gently moved up and down from the arch of your back to the sides of your thick thighs to help soothe your aching core as you adjusted around him. 

You let out a small whine when you pushed your hips back only to get Hoseok’s large hands firmly holding them in place. 

“Not so quick princess. We have all night to have fun.” The tone of his voice sending a fresh wave of arousal down to your core. Hoseok relished in the fluttering of your pussy being stretched out by his cock. Finally giving in, he rolled his hips slowly into you giving you both the pleasure needed. 

His length slid in and out of you with ease. The feeling of his length in you, rubbing against your walls, satisfying your desire for him but always leaving you wanting more.

Hoseok’s pace picked up and delivered more toe curling thrusts. Each thrust making moans slip out from your mouth as you gushed around him. The feeling of your high was dangerously near.

“Hold it just a bit longer princess.” Your moans turned into whimpers as you desperately tried to push back your high. The stutter of his hips letting you know he was close. His body was now as close as can be and he delivered the last few thrusts that pushed you both over the edge. Contentment flowed throughout your veins as Hoseok filled you up with his release. 

Breaths finally into its normal state, Hoseok pulled out of you and laid your bodies against the comfort of the mattress. Tiredness in every part of your body was overruled with love when your boyfriend placed sweet kisses on your lips.

“Good night princess.”

“Night Seokie.”

Namjoon

Your anniversary dinner with Namjoon was simple yet romantic. Dinner by the shore. Everything was perfect from the delicious food to the white noise of the waves hitting the sandy shore. Everything was perfect until grey clouds covered the sun and poured droplets of water over anything that was uncovered. 

Unluckily, you both decided to walk to the restaurant since it was close and the weather seemed nice. It seemed nice.

You both rushed back home as the rain seemed to pour harder. Locked hand in hand, Namjoon’s long legs helped you get in the safety of your shared home rather quickly. 

Kicking off your soaked shoes by the front door, you both finally took in the damage the rain has done to your clothes. The drenched fabric very present on both of your bodies. Letting out a laugh at your small misfortune, your boyfriend’s eyes snapped towards you and took in the image of the damp fabric clinging on to your body. If he thought that the dress made your body look ravishing before, right now you looked utterly alluring. The droplet of water slowly dripping down your collarbone had made your usually calm and collected boyfriend snap.

His body immediately flushed against yours as he brought his lips to yours and kissed you with fervor. He guided your bodies to the couch in the living room. Every step you took, had clothes falling to the wooden floor. Without pulling away, he settled on the comfy couch and had you straddle his lap. The rest of the damp clothes on the couch would be a tomorrow problem.  

“Fucking need you baby.” Namjoon mumbled against your lips as his large hands held on to your hips as you grinded on him. The arousal from your core aiding you in easing his thick cock in you. 

Sighs of relief left your swollen lips as you settled into adjusting around his length. Namjoon’s lips were back on yours and he cupped your round ass. A moan escaped your mouth as he gave your behind a firm squeeze. Never one to miss an opportunity, he slipped his honeyed tongue past your lips and thrusted up into you. 

Your hips automatically moved to ride him in the way you both loved. Every roll of your hips was aided by his hips thrusting upwards. The tip of length nudged your cervix and it had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The perfect fit of his length in you had you feeling so full. You felt every inch of him, every vein, snuggled deeply into you. The thought of how good he felt inside of you had you clenching around his cock. 

“You feel so good baby. I won’t last long if you keep on doing that.” You smirked as you picked up your hips, sliding almost all the way off from his cock but slammed your hips down and repeated the action in between the rolls of your hips. Namjoon let his head fall back on the couch as his hands attempted to aid you on his cock. Very eager to get him over the edge, you ignored the ache in your core and placed open mouthed kisses on his exposed neck. Leaving blooming petals on his neck until you felt satisfied. He peaked his high at one particular suck on the sweet spot on his neck. 

He filled you up to the brim and worked on steadying his breaths immediately. Once he settled in for regular breaths, his hold on your wide hips tightened and he looked into your eyes with a hungry gaze.  

“You’re in for it tonight baby.”

[leahquark]

How to escape from a time loop

How to escape from a time loop

Prevent the causing event

Alright, so you’re stuck in a time loop. But maybe you know what caused it. Hey, if the causing event keeps happening, it’s obvious. Let’s say at the end of every day, you die. Easy peasy, just don’t die one day and you’ll escape the loop. Easier said than done, sure. Especially if the loop is short, or the event is out of your control (yea, 10 minutes really feels unfair to convince your aunt Sally on the other side of the country not to knock over her Egyptian flower vase). But hey, you get unlimited tries at this. Plus, a time loop means your money and resources reset, so feel free to go nuts and waste them. Just, don’t do anything you might regret if the loop suddenly breaks. Of course, after enough repeats, I doubt there’ll be much left in this category. If the loop happens when you go to sleep, then don’t go to sleep. Heck, chase the sun around the world if you have to. Rage against the dying of the light.

2. 

Make amends for the causing event

Okay, so maybe the event that caused the time loop only happened once. And maybe it happened on the day before the loop, or in the first iteration only. Well then, you can still make amends for it, hit the edit undo. Don’t believe me? The statistical probability that YOU would be the first person stuck in a time loop is so ridiculously close to zero. If you’re in a time loop now, that means others were probably in a time loop too, and maybe got in and got out the same way. And they kinda had to get out, in order for time to progress and trap you in your time loop today. So go track down that evil time witch and apologize to her, or find a scientist who can study the alien blood you’re covered in. Tell them to keep notes, then at the end of the time loop memorize them and regurgitate them back at the start of the next loop. Remember, you’re the only one who can retain information / make progress at the end of each loop. Only you can look out for yourself, but maybe medical science has an answer.

3.

Prevent and make amends for everything that could possibly be the causing event

Okay, so maybe you don’t know why you’re trapped in a time loop. Alright, then try this. Go through a list of everything you did the day before the loop, and during the first iteration of the loop. Focus on things you said, places you went, objects you saw, things you thought about. It’s important to do this before the time loops repeat so many times you forget what happened the first time around. One of those things, something as minor as not hanging out with a friend, could have been the causing factor… at least according to movies and TV. In reality, it’s probably as likely the time loop was caused by a passing black hole, or a scientist at the large hadron collider. But hey, if it’s something not related to your personal life and daily activities, then you’re kinda screwed. So just completely change your daily routine, do things you’d never think to do, break that habit that you do on every iteration of the timeline, and hope that the loop was just some catharsis for your morning coffee addiction. Now is the time to fix any regrets you may have, to make amends, to become a better person. 

4.

Binge watch time related tv

Also read some sci fi. Of course, if you’re reading this, you’re probably on track already, and getting into the more obscure sections. That’s good, a lot of those mainstream sci fi movies are more meant to make you feel good than actually discuss the repercussions of time loops. But hey, you never know, maybe you’ll get some inspiration for something. Heck, a lot of escaping from time loops is getting the right inspiration. So yea, take a break, and binge those bad tv shows. You’ve got all the time in the world to do what you love… assuming you love sci fi television as much as I do. Heck, I won’t judge if you just want to use the time loop to binge all day, enjoy yourself! (You are trapped in a serious science anomaly we don’t fully understand after all) Just, make sure you eventually take a television break if the time loop doesn’t show any sign of fixing. 

5.

Find a guide

Alright, so basic fact of logic, there’s only one person on the planet who knows the absolute most about time loops, and chances are it’s not you. At least, it wasn’t you when you got stuck. For all you know, that person walking down the street next to you knows more than you. Heck, maybe they were trapped in a time loop too. So go ahead and ask. What’s the worst that could happen? No seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? You’re trapped in a time loop, any social awkwardness you display will be forgotten by the next loop. Go up and talk to random people, find that person who knows a ton about sci fi. My DMs are always open, and I’m sure you can find some people in a sci fi discord server. Want a real kicker? Spend one loop learning all you can about a person, just talking to them friendly and nice. Then next time loop start the conversation with an announcement that you’re in a time loop, and prove it by reciting those same facts you learned about the person in the last loop. Get to know someone, make some new friends, or just reach out for help (its so hard to escape alone). 

6.

Convince the government

That trick I mentioned, in point 5… that’ll probably work for the government too. Imagine calling up the president of the United States on his personal cell phone, telling him you’re in a time loop, and backing it up with a whole host of personal facts. What they won’t see, is the hundred or so timelines you spend going from convincing the police, to the FBI, to the governor, to your local senators, etc, etc. At every step of the way, wasting one or two timelines to learn all their personal info, then regurgitating it to them in the third timeline as proof you really are looping. It’s exhausting. All to convince some bureaucrats and some scientists to look into it. Let’s hope they really do have aliens in area 51, or this will be a massive waste of time. But hey, time is something you’ve got too much of anyway. The effort may be exhausting, but you can’t give in, you need some professional backup on your team, and no matter how much you repeat yourself, its worth the effort.

7.

Number those timelines

Alright, so at this point, try anything. But you need a way to stop yourself from trying the same thing twice. And you need a way of prompting the people you are with to stop saying the same old ideas. If you wake up on the same day every morning, and ask the people around you to help you escape a time loop, then they’re going to be repeating a lot of their responses. But in my experience, people reply, think, and remember differently based on the prompts they’re given, and maybe those different prompts will jog your brain, and the brains of the people you’re around, into thinking of something new. One way to do it is get a dictionary, or some other book with a wide variety of words, and each day refer to the next word in the book as that day's prompt. Do something completely random, completely insane, but make sure it started with you and your time loop guides reading and thinking about the prompt. So you’re probably going out to go touch an aardvark then. Come back when you’ve ridden a Zambonni and I’ll know things are really desperate. Point is, keeping trying new things, and enjoy them while you’re at it. 

8.

Keep trying

Alright, it’s not really like you’ve got much of a choice here. Going about your day, or repeating the same day twice, or acting and pretending like you’re not really in a time loop, are all ways of experimenting with something new (though, frankly I think these will just lead to frustration). Heck, maybe instead of acting crazy, what you really needed was to act normal. Maybe it’s a sentient creature keeping you trapped in the loop, and it’ll sense when you’ve given up hope and then release you from the loop. Maybe. Really doubt that though. Technically, it’s impossible to give up. But hang in there. Keep yourself, and your joy. You get to live. You get to experience something no one else has felt. You can learn a hundred new skills, and master them all, and live frivolously every day. You get to meet every person on earth, and study them all in a single day. You are technically immortal. There is nothing you have to do, no responsibilities. There’s nothing new on television to keep you glued to the screen, and no point putting any of your dreams off until tomorrow. You’re trapped in time, but in a way free. Free of consequences except the ones you choose for yourself. So choose to be happy, choose to live. Choose to value this day with your friends and family, even if they won’t value or remember them. Maybe plan one million for escaping the time loop is to go down to a nice sunny beach and just relax. In a strange way, that’s got just as much chance of working as anything else. And it’ll make your eternity here a lot more bearable than moping around your house all depressed like.

9.

Don’t die

I have no idea what the religious implications are of being trapped in a time loop. And the thing with most time loops, at least the ones I’ve seen on tv, is that death doesn’t let you escape the loop. And frankly that’s a good thing, because death is something worse. I’m not going to go into this too much, though if you really are trapped in a time loop I’m sure these few words are tantalizingly short. (If you need more, there are plenty of resources out there) But no time loop has ever been solved by dying. Even if it did resolve, your eternal purgatory would probably end up taking the form of a time loop. But don’t worry, I can give you my personal assurances that you’re alive right now. And that’s good. Because life is a beautiful thing, even when the day repeats. You know, especially then. After all these dark and gritty escape the time loop stories, of tormented characters driven mad because nothing they do matters, can’t we have one where someone is happy to be in a time loop? We all die, eventually that is. Whether you’re trapped in a time loop or not. But not all of us live. Not all of us truly live. Maybe being trapped in a time loop will help you live truly. I mean, if you really think about it, in several thousand years, is anyone even going to remember you? Remember your accomplishments? You may as well have lived for a day. If you want to escape the time loop so what you do matters again, maybe it’s time to face the reality that what you do… may not have mattered. And that’s okay. Life is about the living. Living every day, day by day, and making the most of it. We don’t always get to control the hand that life gives us. Maybe we know someone with Alzheimer's, whose memories fade at the end of each day, and makes it seem like we’re living that moment over and over. Maybe they don’t even remember who you are. Maybe, to them, you’re a stranger, who met them today, and knows so many things about them. Is it happy when someone laughs, if they won’t remember it later? Did it really happen? Yes it did. Yes it is happy. 

10. 

You can’t escape / why did you listen to me, I’ve never been trapped in a time loop

Life is a beautiful thing, time is a beautiful thing. It’s beautiful because it doesn’t loop. I can understand the anger, that bitter rage people can have, trapped and unable to reach out, repeating the same day over and over. Unable to move on. Unable to break free. And sometimes they do break free. Sometimes, silly movies and tv shows, that avoidance of the causing incident, or the help of scientists and their research, are enough to fix even the most terrible of fates. But sometimes they can’t, and we can go on, suffering forever. I’ve never been trapped in a time loop (I thought I was once, in fact, all my friends thought I was too, and they all tried to help me out of it. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t, right?), and if any of the people around me have, they've been hiding it exceptionally well. They’ve worked today, for the hope of relaxing tomorrow. They’ve made progress, with the thought that their accomplishments matter, and their adventures can wait. That’s the mindset a lot of us go through life with. But maybe, just maybe, life can’t wait until tomorrow. Maybe it takes getting trapped in a time loop to realize. When your hard work doesn’t pay off, and you can’t think of what evil thing has landed you where you are, when the universe deals you a bad hand, maybe that’s when you realize what’s important. Waking up, every day, with people you care about, ready to live life for today. Maybe tomorrow won’t come. Maybe it never will. Maybe you have to live, live every moment of your life, today. Or, maybe, just maybe, tomorrow is right around the corner. And when you tell those people around you that you love them, maybe this time they’ll remember. But what the hell do I know? I’ve never been trapped in a time loop. I’m just a person, one of billions on planet Earth, living life.