#i really like how the coloring turned out for these ones :)

[norrisainz33]

bubble || LN4

☆ summary: internet sleuths find out that lando norris has been flirting with and potentially dating a relatively unknown singer

☆ pairing: lando norris x singer!reader

☆ fc & warnings: zinadelphia & slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 18,345 others

f1gossip: it’s been brought to our attention by an anonymous user that our lando norris has been caught seemingly flirting in the comment sections (for at least the past 24 weeks based off the time stamps) with a small american artist, y/n y/l/n. he’s the only driver that follows her and has been consistently in her comment section hyping her up and calling her things like “gorgeous”, “talented” and “pretty.” what do you all make of this?

view all 653 comments

user1: oh my god lando????

user14: i’ve never once heard of this girl?

user2: how did we not know about this for the past 24 weeks guys wtf

user4: no like seriously…. seems like something we should have known already

user3: wait her music is really good tho 🥹

user7: her song mirrorball??? the girl has some vocals wow

user4: just looked her up and she’s beautiful… i see what he’s seeing

yourbff: screaming my head off at this

user1: and who are you??? do you know y/n??

f1gossip: check your dms yourbff

user5: she’s using him for fame!

user4: considering we all just found out about her…. imma go ahead and say no she’s not

user6: now how do i make this about me 🙂‍↔️

ynuser has added to their story

view all story the replies

user1: ooooo orange or papaya ???

yourbff: girl you fueling the flames with this post 😂💀

ynuser: HAHA i know… i got 24k new followers in the past 2 days since you sent me that post by f1gossip and figured id have some fun with it since there’s no hiding now

yourbff: who knew meeting that guy randomly in europe 6 months ago was going to turn out like this

ynuser: certainly not me girl. remember when i thought he was some weirdo who was just trying to hit on me in the bar??

yourbff: bc he had no rizz but max and p really swooped in and saved him and now look at you 🥹

ynuser: my perfect little no rizz baby boy 🥹 love of my life 🤭

landonorris: it’s papaya baby

ynuser: i couldn’t be too obvious now could i?

landonorris: nah go on then be obvious

ynuser: oh you want me to post you?

landonorris: yeah specifically that one pic you took of us in the mirror last night

ynuser: LANDO that is for OUR eyes only

landonorris: right yes

landonorris: i still think you should post me

ynuser: i don’t know if i want to burst our little bubble yet

landonorris: fair enough baby. you just tell me when! i’ve got paddock passes, pictures, plane tickets — everything lined up for when you’re ready

ynuser: 🥹😭 vegas? we go on our little vacation after im done my tour and you’re done in brazil and then pop the bubble?

landonorris: sounds great to me gorgeous but seriously no pressure

user2: my delusions are working over time

maxfewtrell: i’m trying so hard to defend your privacy and this is what you post

ynuser: what’s wrong with the color orange?

maxfewtrell: y/n

user3: ain’t ever seen you and lando in the same room but i somehow know yall doing it

user4: you’re so pretty and your outfits eat so hard wtf 😭

user9: praying this is a new song lyric idk who these new fans are talking about lando this lando that …. i need a new song

ynuser has made a post

liked by youbff, yourfriend2, yoursibling, landonorris, maxfewtrell, ynupdates, and 54,235 others

ynuser: baby’s first headlining tour was a success! thank you to everyone who came out and sang along with me every night. i love you all dearly 🤍 and for all the newbies here, welcome 🫶🏻

view all 324 comments

user1: oh she’s so cute

user2: starting a y/n fan club rn yall

yourbff: you are making those dreams come true bb girl

ynuser: trying to 🥹

yoursibling: cutie patootie i love you

ynuser: i love you more

user23: the peoples most beautiful princess 🤍

user9: who are all you new people here

user2: lando norris fans. who are you?

user9: a y/n y/l/n fan. who is lando norris?

user2: a formula 1 driver!

user9: race cars?? i did not expect that…

user8: taking note of lando and max in the likes

user4: also taking note of their lack of a comment…. lando has commented on every single one of her posts before the f1gossip post dropped

user16: i was there last night!!! best show ever!!! love you y/n

user19: i’m obsessed with those cherry earrings

landonorris has made a post

liked by maxfewtrell, quadrant, mclarenf1, oscarpiastri, ynuser, alex_albon23, and 823,104 others

landonorris: a much needed break. vegas here we come baby

view all 743 comments

user1: i don’t know where to look ,, at the wh*re in the first pic or the soft launch in the second my god 😮‍💨😍😭😔💀

user9: ok user2… i get it now. also i’ve seen those white shoes in y/n’s posts before it’s def her

user2: omg you’re an icon for this

ynuser: dmn y’all really can identify me by my shoes?

user9: YN WHAT ARE YOU SOING HERE IM SORRY

user2: y/nlando confirmed

maxfewtrell: interesting choice of photos mate

landonorris: thanks! picked them myself

maxfewtrell: yeah clearly

pietra.pilao: 🤍

landonorris: 🧡

user2: i’m speechless

user55: hey lando idk if u heard but there’s a lookalike contest happening in my room tonight. $59 cash prize

oscarpiastri: those aren’t max’s legs 👀

landonorris: you’d be correct

user12: this is monumental

user18: my favorite sinister, evil and orange little gremlin

user14: you’re gonna cook in vegas king

ynuser had posted to her story

view all story replies

yourbff: this dress is eating in a way i didn’t think it would. i’m sorry for doubting you

ynuser: never doubt me 😤

lilyzneimer: had so much fun meeting you at dinner this evening!!! looking forward to spending the weekend with you at mclaren 🫶🏻

ynuser: omg it was so fun getting dinner with you and oscar!! i’m so so so glad to have you as a buddy in the paddock. i was super nervous about it all

lilyzneimer: it can be very overwhelming at times but we’ve got you y/n!!

ynuser: that means so much to me 🥹

user9: mother is mothering … in vegas?????

user12: are you in vegas per chance?! for the formula 1 grand prix?! for lando norris?!

user2: i fr need style tips and grwm’s from you y/n. every time you post an outfit it moves me

landonorris: in my hotel room 😈

ynuser: you got it ☝🏻 now hurry up and get back here

landonorris: trust me im hurrying

user8: i need someone to get you on a magazine cover stat

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 19,231 others

f1gossip: confirmed! y/n y/l/n, singer songwriter, is in las vegas with lando norris for the las vegas gp. this seems to be their first official weekend out together

view all 327 comments

user2: as someone who has been deeply invested since the beginning (3 weeks ago).. this is everything

user9: my girl 🥹

user10: i truly wonder how in the world they even met… they’re such an interesting pair

user18: mclaren admin please ask him this weekend

user13: that should be me 😭

user24: ok wait guys im at the gp and y/n was walking through the paddock with lily and we waved her down because we had made some lando merch and she was honestly so sweet and stopped and took photos with us and chatted for way longer than she needed to. i truly hope she never changes she’s an angel

user21: this is so wholesome

user23: i fear she’s on track to become the people’s paddock princess in record time

user18: i have no one to send this to who will get it

mclaren has made a post

liked by landonorris, ynuser, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 432,444 others

mclaren: this weekends most requested interview just dropped! make sure to check out the full thing over on the mclaren app 🟠

view all 329 comments

user18: mclaren admin is a y/nlando girly confirmed

maxfewtrell: he’s leaving out the bit where i had to save him from completely bombing

landonorris: 😔 you’re not gonna let me live that down huh

ynuser: idk what would have happened if max didn’t come over and stop you from explaining why you hate fish so passionately

landonorris: babe please not on the public instagram

user2: lando norizz strikes again

landonorris: love when i get asked good questions like this!

user4: king said if one more person asks me abt wdc im gonna lose it. ask me abt y/n instead

user9: this is making it incredibly hard to gatekeep y/n

ynuser: that’s my man 🙂‍↔️

landonorris: damn right it is

user13: the mutual do you know who i am is lowkey so funny

landonorris has made a post

liked by mclaren, ynuser, yourbff, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 843,238

landonorris: thanks for being nice to me this time vegas!! oh and thanks for coming y/n 😈🏆

view all 854 comments

user12: i’m so proud of you lando

user9: wahooooo first race i watched and you won. i think me and y/n are good luck for you

mclaren: incredible drive lando! that’s our winner!!

ynuser: something about seeing you on that podium 😮‍💨

landonorris: oh you like that?

ynuser: yes 🤭

landonorris: alright podium finishes only from now on 😏

user19: oh you two are freaks i just know it

ln4: LFGGGGG

user13: congrats on the win and the hot gf 😭

carlossainz55: congrats lando!! and hi y/n!

ynuser: hi carlos 🤍

maxfewtrell: much better post mate

landonorris: why thank you. i worked hard on this one

user2: a win and a hard launch = double win for me

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[angievue]

flower girl ʚɞ billie eilish

in which you work at a flower shop and billie works at a tattoo parlour right next door

contains smut, degrading, dumbification, fingering & oral, ig readers innocent, unsupportive parents, this is really bad LOL

a/n guys i found this i think i made this three months ago for fun and OMG😭 also i’m on my phone so that’s why the layout is so ugly😔 i’m not even gonna proof read this cuz its so bad but i love the tattoo girl x flower girl trope so🫠 might re write this or make a pt 2 idk!!

You’ve always been a bit of a goody two shoes. The obedient type, always following your parents’ strict rules and agreeing to whatever your friends begged for, even though you never truly felt free. Your life felt like it was on lockdown, confined by your parents’ watchful eyes.

That was until you started working at a cozy little flower shop. The space was filled with hyacinths, lilies, and roses, and you felt instantly at home there. You could arrange bouquets however you liked and finally had a chance to connect with the world outside.

But what you liked most was the dark-haired girl who worked at the tattoo shop right next to your little flower shop. Growing up, you were taught that attraction to the same gender was forbidden, so now, alone with your thoughts, you can’t help but be drawn to her.

You’ve never spoken to her, and God knows when you will. You’ve only ever seen her walking into the shop every weekday at 8 a.m. and leaving at 5 p.m.

You’ve always wondered what she was like. Her long, raven hair and baggy clothes. You wondered what her name was or what color her eyes were. You wondered if she’d ever think about you the way you think about her.

But she had one flaw: her tattoo parlor somehow scared customers away. The loud music and her starkly different aesthetic made your beautiful flower shop feel dim and boring by comparison. You found yourself loathing her for it.

Today, you swore to confront her and send her a sweet message.

So here you are, standing outside her little tattoo parlor. The edgy music blasts from inside, and you can feel your knees getting weak.

You open the door and immediately feel out of place. Dressed in your cute pink skirt, white sweater, leg warmers, and Mary Janes, you stand out against the harsh red lights and black, dimmed walls of the tattoo parlor. You can’t believe you’re here—imagine if your parents saw you in a place like this…

You gulp as your eyes meet hers. She’s the one you’ve been secretly watching for months now. Her icy blue eyes and rosy pink lips make your stomach twist, and you bite your lip, nervously approaching her with your hands tucked behind your back.

“You here for a tattoo?” she asks, her voice carrying an edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Um… no! Actually, I’m from the flower shop… right next door,” you manage, voice shaky. “Your music is kinda loud… and, well, I’ve been getting some complaints from my customers, so… if you could maybe turn it down a little?”

You stare down at your shoes, feeling like a complete idiot as you mumble through your words, unable to meet her piercing gaze.

She lets out a low chuckle, biting her lip. “Flower shop, eh?”

You glance up, nodding with wide, blinking eyes. Her gaze holds yours, and you feel heat rise through your body.

Her eyes roam over you, lingering just a little too long. She shifts, leaning in closer. “Hm. I’ll think about it… if you give me something.”

Your face lights up. “Okay! Like… a flower?”

She laughs softly, amused by your innocence. “Mm. Yeah… like a flower.”

And that’s how you found yourself, dazed and flustered, barely able to think straight, hiding out in the tiny, employees-only bathroom tucked away in the back of the flower shop.

Billie was her name. And she didn’t really want a flower…

Your breath hitches as you feel Billie's fingers trace the curve of your spine, her touch both gentle and teasing. You shiver, unable to suppress a soft whine as her fingertips trail lower, dipping into the crease of your ass. Her voice is a low murmur in your ear, honeyed and dripping with promise.

"You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Like a dumb little puppy."

The words should sting, but they only make your heart race faster. You nod, too consumed by your own arousal to form a response. Billie chuckles, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

Her hands slide around your waist, pulling you back against her chest. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your clothes, and it makes your skin tingle. Billie nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

"Such a sweet baby," she purrs, her lips brushing against your skin. "I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

You whimper, a desperate plea escaping your lips. Billie’s grip tightens, drawing you even closer. Her mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, and she bites down gently, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp.

"Please…" you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Billie hums in satisfaction, her hand sliding down to cup your heat through the fabric of your panties. You feel yourself growing wetter at her touch, your body betraying you with every passing second. She teases you, circling your clit with her thumb, making you squirm in her hold.

"So naughty," she mocks, her tone playful yet domineering. "Such a whore letting a random girl touch you like this. I bet you’d do anything I say, wouldn’t you?”

You nod frantically, your mind foggy with arousal. Billie’s fingers dip beneath the edge of your panties, slipping inside to find your slick entrance. You moan loudly, arching your back to give her better access. She thrusts two fingers into you without warning, making you cry out.

"That’s it, baby," she coos. "Take it. Take my fingers like the good girl you are."

Her words are laced with condescension, but you find them intoxicating. You press yourself harder onto her hand, desperate for more. Billie pulls her fingers out with a wet sound, bringing them to her mouth to lick them clean. You watch, entranced, as she savors your taste.

"Mmm, delicious," she murmurs. "But you know what you really need, don’t you?"

You shake your head, unsure, but your body tenses with anticipation. Billie smirks, clearly enjoying the power she holds over you.

"On your knees," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You comply immediately, dropping to your knees before her. Billie steps back, giving you room to maneuver. She undoes her pants with deliberate slowness, letting them fall to the floor in a pool around her ankles. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of her exposed pussy, glistening with desire.

"Come on," she orders, her voice firm. "Show me how much of a dumb little slut you really are.

You hesitate for only a moment before leaning forward, your tongue flicking out to taste her. Billie hisses at the contact, gripping your hair tightly as you begin to lick and suck at her clit. Your movements are hesitant at first, but she guides you with forceful tugs on your hair, showing you exactly what she wants.

"Fuck, that’s it," she groans. "Lick it like you mean it, my little baby.

The harshness of her words spurs you on, your tongue working faster as you try to bring her to the edge. Billie’s hips buck against your face, her moans growing louder and more urgent. You can feel the tension building in her body, and you redouble your efforts, determined to make her come.

"Oh, fuck," she gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair.

She pulls away from your mouth abruptly, making you whine in protest. But before you can react, she spins you around, pushing your face against insf the wall. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you realize what’s coming next.

"Stay still," she warns, her voice clipped.

"I’m going to ruin you, and you’re going to take it like the good little slut you are."

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Billie wastes no time, her fingers returning to your soaked pussy. She pushes one inside, then two, scissoring them to stretch you open. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, your hips rocking back instinctively.

"Such a greedy little thing," she taunts.

With that, she removes her fingers and replaces them with something much larger—her tongue. You cry out at the sudden invasion, your body shuddering as she laps at your folds, drinking in your juices. Her mouth is demanding, relentless, and you can feel yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge.

"Billie… please…" you beg, your voice breaking. "I can’t… I can’t hold on…"

"Good," she whispers against your flesh. "Let go, my dumb little baby. Let go for me."

And with those words, you do. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, overwhelming your senses. You scream her name, your entire body convulsing with pleasure as Billie continues to eat you out, driving you further into bliss.

As your climax begins to fade, she pulls away, leaving you panting and spent. But before you can catch your breath, she flips you over, pinning you down with her body. Her eyes burn with intensity as she looks down at you.

"Liked that, did you?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous. "How about we make this a regular thing?"

You blink up at her, dazed and sated. Part of you wants to protest, to say that this is so unprofessional and wrong. But the other part of you, the part that’s currently throbbing with residual pleasure, doesn’t want this to ever end.

"Yes…" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Whatever you want…"

Billie smiles, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Good girl."

a/n someone do this trope justice or if someones already done smth like this LMK PLZ😫 i love it

[kurooh]

☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)

“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”

“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”

“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”

“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.

keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.

since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.

“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.

not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.

“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.

“of course, kei. why . . ?”

“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.

you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.

he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.

“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”

“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.

behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.

“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”

“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”

“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”

your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.

he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”

[chiyuuchu]

Who the hell would buy a Labubu? <3 (3rd November 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! Bakugou overhears his crush whining over wanting a Labubu and goes out of his way for it

The cafeteria was shrouding with the latest trend: Labubu figures. Everywhere you looked, someone seemed to be talking about them, pulling up pictures on their phones, or showing off new additions to their collections. The Bakusquad was no exception.

“Dude, have you seen these things?” Kaminari said, scrolling through his phone and shoving it in Bakugou’s direction. “They’re called Labubu. Apparently, they’re, like, the hottest thing right now.”

Bakugou gave the screen a disgusted look, raising an eyebrow at the tiny creature with big, weird eyes and a goofy grin. “What the hell is that? And who’d pay that much for something so ugly?”

Kirishima chuckled, trying to explain. “I dunno, man, it’s kinda cute in a strange way. People are obsessed with them. They’re even blind boxes, so you don’t know which one you’re gonna get until you open it.”

Bakugou scoffed. “So you’re telling me people are throwing cash away on some creepy-looking gremlin they don’t even get to choose? That’s dumb.”

Just as he was shaking his head, he heard a familiar laugh nearby. He glanced over to see Y/N with a few of the other girls, chatting excitedly, and his ears perked up when he caught her mention the word “Labubu.”

“I’ve wanted one for ages,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling as she spoke. “Especially the pink one, Dada. It’s so cute! I’ve tried to find it, but it’s sold out everywhere.”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “They’re hard to get your hands on right now. But I bet you’ll find one soon, Y/N! They’re so you.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows knitted together as he watched her. He didn’t get the appeal of those weird little figures, but seeing Y/N light up while talking about it stirred something he couldn’t quite ignore.

Turning back to his friends, he scowled even harder. “It’s still ugly,” he muttered, though now his mind was racing with the thought of Y/N smiling with one of those creepy toys in her hands.

He didn’t get the appeal, but… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try finding one for her anyway.

Bakugou pushed through the door of the specialty store, the bell jingling above him. He took a quick glance around, noting the colorful shelves lined with various Labubu figures. Each one looked weirder than the last, and he scowled at the thought of spending money on such ridiculous toys.

“Can I help you?” the cashier asked, her friendly tone grating on his nerves.

“Yeah, I need one of those Labubu things,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Which one?” she replied, eyeing him curiously.

“Uh, the pink one. The Dada,” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

“Oh! That one’s really popular,” she said, her eyes brightening. “But it’s a blind box, so you won’t know if you get it until you open it.”

Bakugou frowned, the frustration boiling in his chest. “What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know if I get the pink one?”

“It’s random,” she explained, shrugging. “You can buy one box, but there’s no guarantee.”

He huffed, feeling the pressure of time ticking away. Y/N had been talking about wanting a Labubu for weeks, and if he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he got the right one. “Fine, give me six.”

The cashier blinked in surprise. “You want a bulk pack?”

“Just give me the damn boxes!” he snapped, not wanting to waste time debating. The thought of Y/N’s smile pushed him to act, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.

After paying for the bulk pack, he exited the store, the weight of the bag heavy in his hands. He couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and determination as he headed back to the dorm.

Once he got inside, Bakugou tossed the bag onto his bed and unzipped it, revealing the six colorful Labubu boxes inside. He could feel a sense of anticipation building up in him. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, grabbing the first box.

With each box he opened, his heart raced. The first one revealed a bright green Labubu with silly eyes. “Nope,” he said, tossing it aside.

He tore through the second box, revealing a blue one. “Not it either,” he grumbled, throwing it next to the first.

The third box contained a purple Labubu, which only added to his growing annoyance. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, grabbing the fourth box.

As he opened the fourth, a yellow Labubu stared back at him, and he groaned loudly. “Why is this so hard?”

He moved to the fifth box, desperate for a win. But it only brought another bizarre figure. “Are you kidding me?!” he shouted, tossing it aside in frustration.

Finally, he reached the last box, his heart pounding with hope. He ripped it open, pulling the figure out slowly.

As the pink Labubu came into view, his breath hitched. “Yes! Finally!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. It was the Dada Labubu, the one Y/N had wanted the most.

Bakugou quickly shoved the figure back into its box, a grin spreading across his face. He couldn’t wait to see Y/N’s reaction when he surprised her with it.

“Now I just have to figure out how to give this to her without making it weird,” he murmured, already plotting the perfect moment to reveal his secret.

Class 1-A was buzzing with excitement and chatter during lunch, but Bakugou barely noticed. All he could focus on was the small, carefully wrapped box sitting in his bag, and his heart was beating a little faster than he wanted to admit.

He glanced across the classroom at Y/N, who was laughing with Mina, and felt a surge of warmth he tried hard to ignore. For weeks, she’d been talking nonstop about how she couldn’t find a Labubu figure anywhere. She’d checked every store, every website, but they were sold out, leaving her heartbroken and, to his quiet dismay, a bit gloomy.

Bakugou had found himself listening to her without meaning to, her excitement and disappointment lingering in his mind longer than he’d expected. After a while, he couldn’t shake it; he’d gotten up, practically stormed through every store he could think of, and, by some miracle, found the last Labubu in stock. It was ridiculous how much effort he’d gone through—but he’d done it. For her.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, box in hand. The class quieted as they noticed him crossing the room, eyes widening in surprise when he stopped in front of Y/N’s desk.

“Bakugou?” she asked, looking up at him with a puzzled smile.

He held out the box, clearing his throat as he forced himself to meet her gaze. “Here. Since you wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Her eyes widened, realization dawning as she carefully took the box from his hands, hands slightly trembling. “Wait… no way…”

“Yeah, it’s that damn Labubu you kept going on about,” he muttered, his voice softer than usual. “Figured you’d be happier if you had it.”

Her expression shifted from disbelief to awe as she looked at him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart stutter. She opened the box slowly, as if savoring the moment, and when she saw the figure, her eyes filled with happiness and something else—a warmth that made his face feel unexpectedly hot.

“Bakugou… thank you,” she whispered, her voice gentle, like he was seeing a side of her she usually kept hidden. She bit her lip, staring at the Labubu and then back at him. “I can’t believe you actually found it. I’ve wanted this for so long, and you… you really did this for me?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he grumbled, looking away, his cheeks dusted pink. “It was just… annoying to hear you complain about it every day.”

But she only laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

The class, watching the exchange, started to murmur, sharing knowing glances and grins. Kaminari leaned over to Kirishima, whispering, “Dude, Bakugou’s totally got it bad.”

“Shut up, idiots!” Bakugou barked, his voice snapping the class back into silence, but the embarrassment only made him redder.

Y/N giggled, and without thinking, she stepped closer and hugged him, burying her face against his shoulder. “Thank you, Bakugou. Really. This means so much to me.”

He froze, feeling the warmth of her arms around him, and for a split second, all his defenses melted away. His hand hovered before he slowly placed a palm on her head, just for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, only for her to hear.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes sparkled with joy. “Guess I owe you one now, huh?”

“Tch, whatever,” he muttered, but his gaze softened as he watched her. “Just… don’t lose it, alright?”

She nodded, clutching the figure to her chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Open it,” he said, crossing his arms, trying to look indifferent. “If you’re lucky, it’ll be the one you wanted, right?”

She grinned, carefully unwrapping the box with everyone watching, the anticipation building in the air. The class waited with bated breath as she peeled back the top, lifting out the mystery figure. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she slowly unwrapped it, revealing…

A flash of pink fur.

She gasped, holding up the tiny pink Labubu figure—Dada. It was the exact one she’d been hoping for, the one she’d mentioned every time the topic came up.

The girls beside her all gasped.

“No way! It’s Dada! The pink one!” she squealed, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and happiness. “Bakugou, this is the one I wanted most!”

He shrugged, fighting a smirk. “Guess you got lucky, then.”

She stared at the figure, clearly overwhelmed, then met his eyes with a soft smile that made his heart skip. “Thank you, Bakugou. Really. This is perfect.”

The class burst into soft laughter and teasing whispers, and Kirishima nudged him with a grin. “Aw, man, you really went all out!”

Bakugou scowled, looking away to hide the warmth creeping up his face. “I just wanted some peace and quiet, alright?”

But Y/N only laughed, cradling her Dada Labubu, and gave him a look that told him she saw right through him. And, just this once, Bakugou didn’t mind.

After the excitement of lunch had settled and the class had dispersed, Bakugou found himself sitting alone in his room, staring at the collection of Labubu boxes he still had. He’d returned home with the six he’d bought, but after seeing Y/N’s joy, he hadn’t had the heart to keep the rest.

He picked up the boxes one by one, contemplating what to do with them. They were all the same—a mix of colors and characters he couldn’t remember the names of, each one just as bizarre as the last. He scowled, trying to shake off the thought that maybe he could just toss them or give them to someone else.

With a sigh, he stood and marched over to Y/N’s room, rapping his knuckles against her door. “Hey! You in there?”

A muffled voice called back, “Yeah, just a second!” The sound of shuffling filled the air before the door swung open to reveal Y/N, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Uh… I was thinking.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know what to do with these,” he said, gesturing to the boxes. “So, here.”

He shoved them into her arms, watching as her eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what? Bakugou, are you serious?” She looked down at the colorful boxes, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah, yeah. Just take them. I don’t want them.” He shrugged, trying to play it cool even though he felt a rush of warmth at seeing her so happy.

Y/N laughed in disbelief as she glanced at the boxes, her heart racing with excitement. “But… these are all so expensive! Are you sure you don’t want them?”

“Does it look like I want them?” Bakugou snapped, but he didn’t mean to sound harsh. “I already got you the pink one. Just take them, dammit!”

She was still processing, her mind racing with thoughts. “I can’t believe you’re giving me all of these. Bakugou, this is so generous of you!”

He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Don’t go making it weird. I just didn’t want to deal with them.”

But as she looked up at him, her smile genuine and bright, he felt something shift in his chest. “Wait, you’re keeping the yellow one, right?”

Bakugou blinked, the question catching him off guard. “What? No, I just—”

“Wait, you like Labubu?” she asked, tilting her head with a teasing grin.

“W-What? No!” He turned red, the rush of embarrassment hitting him like a tidal wave. “I mean, it’s just… it’s growing on me, okay?”

She laughed, clearly enjoying his flustered state. “Yeah, right! Just admit it! You like them.”

“Shut up!” he barked, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward against his will.

“You do! I knew it!” she teased, playfully nudging him.

Bakugou huffed, turning his head away, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, those weird little figures weren’t so bad after all. Not when they made her smile like that.

The next day, the sun shone brightly over U.A. as Bakugou made his way to class, still riding the high of Y/N's delighted reaction to her pink Labubu. But as he entered the classroom, the teasing atmosphere hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Look who’s proud of his new friend!” Kaminari called out, pointing at Bakugou’s backpack, where the yellow Labubu dangled from a clip. “Nice one, Bakugou! Is that your pet now?”

Bakugou glared at him, scowling as he rolled his eyes. “Shut the hell up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid thing.”

“Stupid?!” Kirishima laughed, leaning over to get a better look. “You’re the one who bought six of them! And now you’ve got one clipped to your bag? Sounds like you’re a fan!”

“Just because I bought one doesn’t mean I’m a fan!” Bakugou snapped, the heat rising in his cheeks. “I’m just making sure it doesn’t get lost, dumbass.”

Just then, Y/N walked in, her own bag swinging at her side, the pink Labubu proudly displayed as it dangled from the strap. The moment her classmates spotted her, the teasing escalated.

“Hey, Y/N! Looks like you and Bakugou have matching accessories!” Mina chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Isn’t that adorable?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she smiled, glancing over at Bakugou, who was scowling like he was about to explode. “I guess so! I mean, he found it for me after all,” she said, her tone light and playful.

Bakugou tried to suppress the grin that threatened to break through as Y/N beamed at him, but his friends weren’t having it.

“Aww, Bakugou! You two are, like, Labubu buddies now!” Kaminari teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Next thing we know, you’ll be collecting them together!”

“Shut up!” Bakugou growled, though the edge of his voice was dulled by a hint of embarrassment. “It’s just a coincidence!”

“Yeah, right,” Kirishima chuckled. “I can see it now: ‘Bakugou and Y/N, the ultimate Labubu collectors!’”

“Ugh! Just drop it already!” Bakugou shouted, crossing his arms defensively. He tried to focus on the board, but he could feel Y/N’s gaze on him, a mix of amusement and something softer that made his heart race.

As the laughter and teasing continued, Y/N stepped closer to Bakugou, a playful glint in her eye. “You know, I think you look cute with your little Labubu,” she said, her voice teasing yet sincere. “And it really suits you.”

Bakugou’s cheeks burned, and he turned away quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Tch! It’s not cute! It’s just… it’s just practical!”

But Y/N’s laughter echoed in his ears, and as he caught her smile, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in his chest. Maybe having the yellow Labubu wasn’t so bad after all.

[sixflame438]

Chasing Lightning

Synopsis - Your girlfriend’s in a mood and locks herself in your room causing you to sleep apart. It starts thunder storming in the middle of the night but Minjeong is scared of lightning

Pairing - Kim Minjeong X Reader

Tags - Fluff, light angst, mild astraphobia, established relationship, grammatical errors probably, another 3am post

A/N - A short fic i wrote in one go (yay me), will try to get the other drafts out of the basement after my last 2 exams :D

Wordcount - 1726

Minjeong was mad again and you dont have a clue why. All you did know was that you finished your dinner alone and that your apartment was lacking the usual lively energy of your girlfriend. It was like winter had frozen over with how silent and chilling being in the apartment felt, not even the sounds of a drama playing quietly in the background.

You missed your girlfriend despite her simply being a door apart. And of course you tried multiple times to get her out, whether that was sincerely asking her to or attempting to lure her out with snacks they were all to no avail. She just wouldn’t budge.

If it weren’t for the muffled noises coming from behind the door you probably wouldve assumed you were home alone but they were very real and they definitely came from your girlfriend. You deduced the sounds to be crying and sniffling and it hurt you to hear them, even more knowing you had no way to stop them.

You couldnt even begin to figure out why she was in such a mood. It was like this when you came back from work.

No hugs

No kisses

No Minjeong

No nothing

You couldve easily spent the entire night trying to coax her out but you were tired and sweaty from work and all you wanted to do was crash out while snuggling with your favorite person.

If Minjeong wasnt going to let you in, youd just have to give her some time and space. You had no choice anyway.

She had locked you out of your own bedroom and left you to fend for yourself alone. (it was practically both of yours with how often she was in there with you but the audacity of this girl)

And since most of your stuff was in there you had to make do with what was left scattered around the house. It really wasnt that hard though since you were quite the clumsy mess, always forgetting and leaving things in places they shouldnt be.

In your scavenger hunt you had found a spare set of clothes to change into, some makeup wipes to clean your face with and half of the products required in your night routine.

You took a quick shower to freshen up and rearranged the couch so that you would have an easier time trying to sleep. There was a spare blanket bundled in the corner from your movie night 2 days ago which you could use and some cushions and pillows you could stack to provide another layer of comfort.

Laying onto your makeshift bed, you struggled with finding a good position to sleep in. The couch wasnt ideal to sleep on and the cushions kept moving out of place everytime you turned. It wasnt much but it would have to do, youd just have to hope it was enough.

————————————

It wasnt enough. You were certain just lying on that made you feel worse than you did before. The uneven feeling of the cushions didnt help either as different parts of your body were elevated while others were feeling the hard surface of the couch.

The weather didnt help much as a thunderstorm started as soon as you tried sleeping and no matter how hard you wanted to, you couldn’t will yourself into slumber either. The raging downpour of rain mixed with the thunderclaps created a painful symphony of pattering noises, uneven and aching to the ear, perfect to distract someone from falling asleep.

Lightning had also started coloring the dark skies with its striking flashes, loud and unpredictable. Since you couldn’t sleep you decided it would be fine to indulge in the lightning instead, pulling over a chair and opening the blinds so you could see the skies better.

The low dim light glowing from the moon and the dark midnight sky helped illuminate the lightning strikes and bright stars. If you were a photographer you wouldve definitely tried capturing the moment in physical form but keeping the scene in your head was alright too.

Other than the scene being quite stunningly beautiful (like your girlfriend) you found it quite funny as it kind of looked like the sky was trying (and failing) to play connect the dots with the stars. You dont know why but you were just so entertained by the sight.

It was rare but you had always enjoyed seeing the natural phenomenon nonetheless, finding it quite fascinating and inspiring.

Your girlfriend on the other hand?

Strong stoic Minjeong was never a fan of lightning, it was quite an experience the first time you both saw the flashing lights together. The high pitched squeals and screams could never leave your head and you didnt want them to. It was fun seeing that side of her and even more fun teasing her about it.

You remember bringing her close and spending the night in each others embrace, forgetting the world as it faded away. This time though you weren’t there for her, you couldn’t even if you wanted to all because of a stupid locked door.

You were really hoping Minjeong had already fallen into a peaceful slumber and hadnt heard the harsh sounds of the lightning. Considering you hadnt heard any noises from your girlfriend yet you took it as a good sign but the worrying feeling wouldnt leave so you remained unsettled.

That feeling was quickly sidelined though as another bolt of lightning hit. This one had a tint of red to it which you found absolutely amazing. You had learnt in a previous deep dive that lightning strikes could reflect any colour in the spectrum so seeing it in person was mind blowing.

You were so mesmerized by the colours and sounds of the lightning that you didnt hear the slight click of the bedroom lock or the soft padding of feet in your direction. It wasnt until you felt 2 tiny arms around your waist that you snapped out of your haze.

Part of you was still resentful of how quickly Minjeong shut you out (physically and mentally) but as soon as you registered the tears coming from your beloved you crumbled.

Even though Minjeong was stubborn and acting up all you wanted to do was wrap her up and cradle her in your arms. She was always there for you so the least you could do was be there for her as well.

As you turn around to properly to face your girlfriend a perfectly timed lightning strike allowed you to see her entire face in all of its glory. Minjeong mustve been crying for a while by the red eyes and flushed cheeks.

You physically soften at the sight, heart filling with sympathy and concern as you observe your girlfriend for any other signs.

There was nothing you wanted more than to pull her into your arms and spend the rest of the night comforting her. Even your ego tried to resist but you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and doing just that.

You pull her onto your lap and with one arm rubbing her back in circles and the other running down her hair in a soft delicate motion you coax Minjeong into finally letting out the remaining tears. The weight of your comfort too heavy to bear.

A croaky im sorry is all you hear as your girlfriend starts sobbing into your shoulder. You’re not sure what shes apologizing for. Maybe for crying? For being vulnerable? For locking you out of your room? Her fear of lightning? Probably all of the above.

Humming in acknowledgment you continue to console Minjeong, whispering soft reassurances in between sobs. As the storm eventually faded out, Minjeongs crying evened out too. Soft whimpers and hiccups could be heard amongst the sprinkling of rain.

You have a feeling that Minjeong would’ve succeeded in staying the entire night alone in your room if it weren’t for the lightning scaring her out.

“Hey lets get some rest now that the rains subsided. Im gonna take you back into the room okay?” You dont wait for a reply as you gently lifted Minjeong off your lap and guided her to stand and lean onto you.

Slowly and steadily you lead her back into the bedroom and notice the soaked pillow doused in her tears. Hell no were you going to let her sleep on that. Luckily you were a person who loved sleeping with multiple pillows so you had some spare hidden away.

(Minjeong found it impractical having pillows to hug when you could just cuddle with her instead and your bed was only so big so you moved them to make room)

You pull out the unused pillows from your storage closet and tuck Minjeong back into bed with little resistance, her already tired state fueled by the lack of energy from all the crying.

Ensuring she was comfortable and safe you place an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

You were hesitant on whether you were allowed to join her or not, as you still didnt know why she was upset and if you had played a part in her suffering. But your questions get answered with a simple

“Stay”

Quiet and low but you heard it. Not allowing yourself to linger any longer, you climb into bed and tuck yourself in too. Gently wrapping your arms around Minjeong as you did before, careful not to set her off again.

It takes a while for Minjeong to calm down fully but with your soothing touches she eventually drifts off. As soon as you registered her breathing falling into a stable state, you allowed yourself to relax for the first time that night. Basking in the closeness of her company, you lay another tender kiss on her forehead and temple.

It didnt matter what had happened, as long as you were still able to kiss her goodnight that’s all that mattered. Youre still skeptical about Minjeongs behavior, being kept in the dark about something as important as this was not something you enjoyed but you had a feeling that it would work out. Tomorrow was new day and you had plenty of time to decode her then.

Now that Minjeong was back in your arms you were never letting her go (unless she tried to lock herself in again that is)

[imfoive]

Love Notes

Lee Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: Established Relationship au!, Fluff Warnings: suggestive, somewhat proofread WC: 582 A/N: Here’s a late night snippet that turned into something fluffy :) Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

DRABBLE ──────────────────────────

It was a habit of his.

Jotting down words he couldn’t really say out loud. Instead he’s tear a piece of paper he’d find. A napkin, a card, scribbling whatever thoughts that raced through his head.

That’s how it all began.

When Minho’s eyes would rake over the love of his life, taking in the sight that was her, inhaling silently, overwhelmed by words that refused to come out.

Instead staring at Y/N in fascination.

When he was too shy to voice out that she looked breathtaking, actually rendering him speechless.

That the dress fit her so well, the color brought out her eyes.

The style suit her well.

That he loved how she looked. Loved her.

Words he couldn’t say out loud without stumbling over them, without his ears, his cheeks turning red and hot.

So he scribbled them down.

The note was passed with a nonchalant handover, avoiding her confused gaze as she took it, like passing secret notes in school. He acted as if nothing was amiss, waiting for her to read.

Of course her confused expression doesn’t last. Her eyes flitting over his handwriting, her lips thinning into a smile. Seeing which he smiles pleasingly as well.

   “Thank you.” Y/N whispered, already reaching out, tugging at his arms to brush her lips over his warm cheeks.

It became a shared habit almost instantaneously. They felt like kids, once again, giggling and laughing as they scribbled down their thoughts.

Notes filled with compliments.

Words that made them blush. Their hearts hammer in their chest.

Some words were mischievous, one that would make him raise an eyebrow at her playful suggestions. His eyes glancing between her and her scribbles. His lips would morph into that smirk he reserved for moments when he knew he wouldn’t let her leave the bedroom until she was satisfied. The kind of smirk she loved seeing.

His fingers easily lacing around her wrist to pull her into their room, the door shutting with a loud thud.

Their love notes littered the space. The post-it notes on the refrigerator, next to the list of household items and groceries they needed to buy and re-stock, even more scribbles at the bottom, were all filled with warm messages.

That two page letter Minho wrote one night, feeling guilty after coming home too late. On a day where Y/N had no plans besides staying in, staying with him. But ultimately had fallen asleep from boredom because he couldn’t slip out easily from his own responsibilities.

That letter, full of apologies and compliments, was tucked into her box of cherished items. Words that he couldn’t bring himself to voice out loud, yet easily poured them into the page, each word making her heart swell bigger than it was.

   “How lucky I am…”

   “You’re the greatest thing that happened to me…”

   “I’m sorry I don’t say this enough…”

He could have gone on and on about everything he loved about her, how special she made him feel. How much she deserves the moon, the stars, and everything shiny in the sky. But some words were meant to be shared aloud.

Like the ones he whispered into her ear as he cradled her in his embrace, settling comfortably under the sheets. His lips brushed softly against her hair, lingering with gentle kisses atop her forehead. As he pulled her flush against him, her body heat radiating and warming him.

The words easily slip out of his lips.

   “I love you...”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.

[quinnysnursery]

HELLO !! c:

could you please make having little!reader having both Matt and Chris as caregivers!

could it also have a colouring scene

c:<

[🥤🩹] the perfect picture | matt & chris sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo x fem!little!reader x cg!chris sturniolo

summary : matt and chris are a bit worried about their little one, but she's just busy making the perfect picture!

warning/extra tid-bits : use of y/n, i think that's all!

word count : 722 + not proofread

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (crayons doodles from @thecutestgrotto, AREN'T THEY ADORABLE??)

a/n : dishing these out like hot cakes!! (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

Matt let out a content sigh, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. The house had been so calm and quiet today that he really felt-

Wait.

The house had been so calm and quiet.

The brunette boy stood up from his spot on the couch, quickly examining the living room and the kitchen for any sign of his little- only to find none. “Baby?” He called out, trying his best not to panic. 

Matt waited a few moments for a reply before rushing upstairs to Chris’ room, his heart sinking when he only found his brother. “Dude! Ever heard of knocking?!” Chris said, annoyed. 

“Where’s Y/n?” Matt asked seriously, his tone causing Chris’ eyebrows to furrow. “I thought she was with you!” The youngest triplet said, standing up off his bed. Matt shook his head, “No, I thought she was with you!” Matt argued back.

Both brothers stood silently for a few moments before taking off out of the youngest triplet’s room, opening up any door, checking behind or under any Y/n-sized hiding spot. 

“Sweetheart?!” Chris called out, bounding down the stairs to check Matt’s room as the other caregiver checked behind the curtain of the bathtub.

Nick looked up, his neck aching slightly from how long he’d been helping you shade in the background of the picture you’d asked for Nick’s help coloring. 

“Are they calling for you?” He asked, you blinked up at Nick before shrugging. “Don’ want them to see until ‘m done.” You murmured- words muffled through your pacifier. 

Nick nodded, standing up and ruffling your hair before walking out his room, coming face to face with both his brothers. 

“Is Y/n in there?” Chris asked, already reaching to open Nick’s door. “Is she?” Matt rushed his response. Nick stuck his arm in the way of Chris and Matt, blocking his younger brothers from opening his bedroom door.

“She is, we’re working on something to show you.” The eldest triplet explained, both caregivers breathed out sighs of relief- relieved to know their little was at least in the house. 

“Wait, what?” Chris asked, processing his older brother's words. Matt nodded- equally as curious.

“Don’ tell them Nicky!” Y/n yelled out from inside the room, earning a soft chuckle from Nick. “Can’t tell you guys, sorry.” Nick said before slipping back into his room- ignoring the protests from Chris and Matt.

The two caregivers stood outside the door, thinking for a few moments. 

“Should we be worried?” Chris asked, breaking the silence. Matt thought for a few moments before responding, “...Only mildly.”

Inside Nick’s room, the little was giggling away as she added details to each and every one of her doodles of her caregivers. “Nicky,” She called out, causing the eldest triplet to turn his head to face the little.

“Help.” She said, pointing to Chris’ figure. “Help with that?” Nick asked gently, examining the girl's crayon marks. “D’aw a hat, peas’.” She requested, making Nick smile brightly.

“Okay, let’s draw a hat.” He smiled, grabbing his pen from his nightstand and beginning on a baseball cap. 

Soon, the perfect picture was complete- much to Nick and Y/n’s delightment. “Daddy! Papa!” Y/n called out, bounding down the stairs despite knowing it was against the rules to rush up and down the stairs.

Chris and Matt looked up from their phones, smiling brightly at the sight of their little. “What is it, sweetheart?” Matt asked, earning a soft giggle from the regressed girl. 

“Look!” She smiled, proudly presenting the drawing to both her caregivers. 

It was a crayon drawing with some details outlined in pen- thanks to Nick. The drawing showcased Chris, Matt, Nick and Y/n standing outside their Boston house, playing in the leaves. Chris adorned a red baseball cap with a gray hoodie, Matt was sporting a baggy sweater and an equally baggy pair of pants. It was clear Nick was wearing his famous black and red sweater, and it appeared Y/n was wearing a flowy maxi dress.

“Oh baby…” Chris smiled, overly proud of his girl. “Nicky helped! Bu’ I colored most’a it!” She excitedly told her caregivers- earning even more praise.Matt and Chris hugged their girl tightly, Nick joining in not long after. Each triplet was careful not to crush the perfect picture.

taglist !! :

@mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall

@hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart

@pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx

@tyummyz @starri-nightss @cyberskulzzz @nicksbestie

@urfavbestiee @nicksloverrr @babybatxxx @ivysturnss

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13

@pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei

@v33angel @conspiracy-ash @hoes4matthew @elislytherpuffsturn

@mattsturnsgirlie

[dira333]

Kiss me in the dark - Kuroo x Reader

Friends to lovers, for @reverie-starlight for the Milestone Event Week 1

"Spin the bottle!" Bokuto cries, as usual much too loud for the crowded space.

"I heard you the first time!" Yaku sniffs and spins the bottle, no doubt hoping it will land on Fukurodani's cute manager.

It lands on you.

You can see how he swallows, his usually straightforward behavior turning nervous. "I think there's a mistake," he tries. "I didn't spin it right."

"Rules are rules!" Akaashi points out with an almost bored smile while you wish you could sink into the floor.

Yaku hesitates once more before resigning himself to his fate, leaning over the gap where the bottle waits for its next turn.

SMACK!

He lands face-first on the floor, Tetsurou behind him.

"Whoops, sorry. Didn't see you there."

Yaku's cheeks are red and he's positively angry but he's not retaliating, which is a first.

"Well, get it over with..." Akaashi drawls and there's something to his smile that tells you he's enjoying this... whatever this is.

"I could take your place if you're too hurt to kiss, you know." Tetsurou points out, pointedly checking his nails.

"Yes," Kenma snarls from where he's hidden by the snacks. "Do it."

Silence washes over the room. It's one thing to joke about it, another to actually follow through on it.

Your eyes catch Tetsurou’s in the dim light and your heart stutters to a halt as you wonder if he's finally going to do it - breach that gap between you that's been keeping you apart.

- - -

“This is Tetsurou, my son. And this is Kenma, his best friend,” the man explains. You eye the two boys from the safety of your mother's hand, none of them daring to catch your eye.

“My daughter is a little shy,” your mother explains above you to your utter embarrassment. “I’m sure she’ll warm up to them in no time though.”

“Do you, uh,” Tetsurou mumbles, dragging his foot across the floor, “do you wanna play… Volleyball?”

“Can I?” You look up to your mom for guidance. You don’t dislike playing ball. You just hope they don’t play rough.

“Sure, honey. Go on.”

Tetsurou is a good teacher. He might swallow his words sometimes, reddening in the afterglow of the evening sun when you peer up at him with too many questions to voice and he might stumble over himself trying to get you to like Kenma and Kenma to like you, but he’s nice. Not too rough, not too loud. Just nice.

-

The room is filled with the pained sounds of a monster dying as Kenma slays it on screen. 

You purse your lips, focusing as you drag the little brush over Tetsurou’s nails.

“I like this kind of red,” he mumbles quietly, all tuckered out from playing Volleyball all afternoon. It’s the one thing that gets him out of his shell, just like Games do for Kenma, or fashion does for you. 

“I have a wig in that color,” you tell him just as quietly, “I can lend it to you.”

“Really?” His grin is infectious. “I’d love that.”

And it’s in those moments, quiet and soft and oh so familiar, that you find yourself drawn in. Like you’re no longer orbiting him, but going straight on collision course.

- - -

Over seven years of friendship and it all boils down to this.

Tetsurou doesn’t move, frozen where he sits.

You push yourself up when it goes on too long, darting your lips over Yaku’s bruised cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell the room as if anyone doesn’t know what’s going on. Those are your friends, in a way, even though Bokuto is more Tetsurou’s friend than yours and Akaashi is Bokuto’s friend of course and Yaku is a whole different topic, but, alas, they all know what’s going on. It’s Tetsurou after all. He’s an open book.

You make it all the way down the dark hallway, past the other sleeping quarters where the younger players snore away. At least Lev hadn’t participated. You wouldn’t be able to live that humiliation down.

“Wait!”

You don’t turn. You know that voice without looking.

The bathroom door closes behind you with a quiet click, your heart beating fast. You didn’t need to run, but it feels like it, running from a joke that’s no longer funny, an unavoidable conversation you don’t want to have.

The door opens again and Tetsurou stumbles through, eyes wide and cheeks pale.

“This is the girl’s bathroom!” You hiss and he panics, throwing himself against the closing door with his eyes closed.

“I’m not looking!” He promises. “But we need to talk. Alone. Is anyone else in here?”

Silence.

You sigh.

“Fine,” you huff, swallowing against the nerves. Like a bandaid, you tell yourself. Just rip it off. “Don’t joke about kissing me if you don’t wanna do it anyway.”

Tetsurou chokes. “I wasn’t joking.”

“What?!” It’s your turn to panic. “No, wait. No! You don’t get to say that when you panic froze right after being put on the spot.”

“I want to kiss you!” He promises. “Just not… in front of all of our friends.”

“You’re just saying that so I’m no longer mad at you.”

“True, but, also…” He shrugs, but it looks more like a nervous tick, like he’s trying to get rid of the thoughts that sit heavy on his shoulders. “You’re my best friend. What if we kiss and you’re no longer my best friend? I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

You nod, stepping back a little. He’s right. You’ve been thinking about that long enough to know that he’s right.

However, tonight has proven something else.

“But I think… if we keep going like this, in this kind of limbo of not just friends but not something more, we’ll not stay best friends either. This hurts, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou nods, slow and solemnly. His eyes look like they used to as a kid, before he got more confident in himself, before he began trusting others as well as himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

His hand reaches out and you take it without thinking, your heart and body longing to be close to him.

“Can I kiss you now?” He whispers as the motion-sensitive lighting flickers out around you, bathing you in soft, curious darkness.

His lips are soft and he tastes like the nerd clusters Bokuto dared him to eat as a joke and his arms are warm and strong around you, like a promise and a memory altogether.

-

Your hand is firmly in his as you step out into the hallway again, your lips a little bruised and his grin sitting a little lopsided.

“Finally,” Kenma drawls and you turn, surprised to see the whole group waiting at the corner behind him.

“Did you kiss?” Bokuto asks, beefy arms heavy on Akaashi’s shoulders who just rolls his eyes.

“Yes,” you tell them with a grin before Tetsurou can and watch them all jump and cheer like the idiots they are.

[justwonder113]

Sharing bed with Seungmin

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: After facing the horrible and vile beast and hurting your leg in the fight, your best friend offers to let you stay in his house. Where one thing might lead to another. Warning: cursing as always, there's no surprise there. Not proofread. Both Seungmin and Reader are quite goofy. Reader is gender neutral. Mentions of kissing.

A/N- Hey babies! I'mglad to say I'm back and well. I hope you'll like this fic. Reblogs and cooments are greatly appreciated. Feel free to request and send your thoughts if you have any❤️ Word count- 1.8k

Having your own house is a beautiful experience. It’s like an adventure of having your own kingdom and being a monarch. You have all the privacy and personal space one can dream of; you have peace and quiet; you have freedom to do whatever you want be it walking around butt naked or cooking up a three course meal at  3am; you can have random 3 am dance concerts and so on and so on. Most importantly you could do whatever you wanted to decorate and style it which is what you were busy doing right now.

Lately your Pinterest feed was full of various versions of colorful archways. People came up with so many interesting ways to add a pop of color to their house and it seemed quite easy to do so. So here you were perched on the stool unleashing your inner artist on your archway. Well at least that was the plan. Everything went to gutter when you saw a movement in the corner of your eye. You turned around made eye contact with probably the most disgusting and vile looking grasshopper ever. The horrific appearance of the beast made you scream so hard the beast also got startled and fucking jumped on you! Obviously you lost your shit at that too, your already shaky and unstable stool just couldn’t take it anymore. One second you were screaming your lungs out the next second you were on the floor with your leg hurting like a bitch.

You must have made quite a lot of noise because almost immediately the front door of your house basically burst open and Seungmin rushed towards your hunching figure. You had almost forgotten he was supposed to come over. You had even left your door open for him. Quite convenient, because no way in hell would you be able to stand up and walk towards the door in this state. You sure as hell hoped you didn’t break it.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Seungmin looked frantic as he nervously examined you. You wanted to keep your cool, you really did. But the pain and the shock took over your senses and the next thing you knew you were bawling your eyes out as Seungmin, confused and unsure of what to do, cradled your body close to his frame and tried to calm you down.

You were unsure of what happened next. You were pretty out of it. Maybe out of shock maybe because of the painkillers, who knows. Seungmin did most of… Well basically everything. He helped you get ready, took you to the hospital, did basically all the talking with the doctors, stayed with you through every procedure… He even took care of all the paperwork, bought all the meds and not once did he complain about anything! Even more, he bought you to his house! Well he said because you couldn’t be trusted to be alone but you knew it was because he was worried, also you did complain quite a lot about being afraid of the beast lurking in your house. With your foot strained like this there wasn’t even a possibility for you to run away from the hideous creature.

If you thought that he wasn’t husband material before (oh no you were totally not crushing on your best friend, not at all!), he even made you dinner, which was just finger licking good! He made sure to step away to his room to make a call, but you could still hear how he asked Minho for tips. How could you not love him? He even called Minho! He hated asking him for help. He looked so good doing everything too, all you could think about was how you wanted to kiss him.

“You’re the best Minnie.” You cheered as he helped you get to bed. He insisted that you take his bed, refusing to hear you protest. You loved how he always acted like everything was such a bother and then went out of his way to do it.

“Shut it, I’m only letting you sleep on my bed because knowing your clumsy ass you’ll fall of the sofa and further injure yourself!” He grumbled as he tucked you in like you were a literal child.

“Aww you do care about me.” You couldn’t help but tease.

Seungmin only scoffed – “Don’t push it!”

“I love you too!”- You mused, he rolled hie eyes at that but you could have sworn the corner of his lips lifted up. He was about to leave but you reached in just in time to grab his hand. Seungmin looked taken aback for a second but quickly gathered himself. “Please stay?” You made sure to do your best puppy eyes and it worked! Seungmin immediately caved, but being a stubborn ass, he is he just plopped on you. Careful to not touch your leg but still with enough force to squish you.

Honestly, jokes on him because you only saw this as an opportunity to wrap your hands around him and tightly hug him. He “tried” to get free but you knew that this softie enjoyed the hug, the big ass smile on his face confirmed it. In mere sounds he stopped resisting and continued to just flop on you.

“What are you doing?” He huffed out while his face was adorned with the prettiest smile ever. God you couldn’t understand how could he say anything bad about his smile or even think of hiding it. It was always so innocent and pure. It never failed to put a smile on your face, to light up your whole world.

“Showing how thankful I am?!” – To further prove your point you leaned in and gave him the fastest smooch on his cheek. Seungmin made sure to grimace as dramatically as possible, but as always, his arms wrapping around your waist told whole another story about how he felt.

“Oh really? By kissing my cheek?” What a little shit. Now it was your time to roll your eyes. “Are you insinuating I should kiss you elsewhere?” You tried to not sound as hopeful as you actually felt.

Seungmin barked out a teasing laugh-“As if you could, you don’t have the guts for it!”

You quickly let go of him and crossed your arms to show your disdain, with equally matching scowl adorning your face. That didn’t stop him from hugging your frame, in fact he tightened his hold around your waist. “How dare you sir!”

Seungmin looked at you with challenging look, his eyes full of amusement. “What? Are you going to kiss me then?” His voice was teasing, you couldn’t tell if he was actually for real or not. You couldn’t’ tell if you should challenge him or not.

“I just might!” – You challenged, thinking that you just might as well go with it. You could always play as if you were joking. You hated hiding your true feelings but anything was better than possibly losing him as a friend.

“What are you waiting for then?”? You thought you knew him the best but you couldn’t really decipher what his face meant. Was he actually for real? Were you two about to cross the line that could possibly ruin your friendship either for the best or for the worst?

“Don’t you dare regret it!” You whispered against his lips. When did Seungmin’s face get so close? With every breath your lips slightly brushed against each other. You could smell the minty smell of his toothpaste. God you were really about to do it!

“Wouldn’t dream of it love.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. God, you couldn’t resist him anymore. Here went nothing. Bringing him closer with his face you finally connected your lips together.

His lips were a bit cold and chapped but nonetheless you loved how they felt against yours. Your whole heart was bursting with joy. Every drag of your lips against each other felt like heaven, you couldn’t help but lean in for more. Seungmin must have also felt that way because he also kissed you like a starved man, like you were oxygen he needed to breathe. His hands had shifted from around your waist, one hand held your hip tightly while the other migrated to your neck and softly rested there. You also couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, your one arm was wrapped around his shoulders as the other still held his cheek to have him as close as possible. His lips were almost addictive like a drug you didn’t know needed in your life you just couldn’t get enough.

Unfortunately for you, you had to lean back to get some air. You always thought that oxygen was overrated anyway but biology or whatever. Seungmin also seemed unimpressed to be away from your lips but that still didn’t stop him from covering your whole face and neck with sweet kisses.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be the one saying thanks?” You couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed the ticklish spot on your neck. Seungmin looked up to you for a second then quickly got up. Your heart clenched at the idea that you might’ve done something wrong but he immediately washed away those worries by walking around the bed and laying down on the bed next to you, under the same queen size cover.

You looked at him with wide eyes as he got more comfortable laying on his back and opened his arms for you almost like an invitation. “All done!”

“What are you doing Min?” A smile crept up your face as you examined his mischievous smile.

“I just got more comfortable, you can thank me as much as you want now.” Seungmin answered proudly with the prettiest smirk adorning his face.

 You couldn’t help but mirror the expression. “You’re such a brat sometimes. What should I do with you?”

As if seriously thinking things over Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows and to be extra dramatic crossed his arms. You loved how giddy he felt after your kiss. It felt nice knowing you weren’t the only one losing your shit on the inside.

Seungmin smiled, and you knew immediately he was about to smartass you. You tried to turn away from him to not give him the satisfaction but he was quicker. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer to his body, his forehead gently resting on yours. “You love me!” After rolling your eyes at his goofyness you sighed in defeat and relaxed into the hug.

“You know what? I do.” You leaned in and sealed your lips again to further confirm your feelings. You would have hurt your leg a long time ago if you knew it things would end up like this.

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^

Taglist (feel free to either comment or massage me if you want to be added to my taglist ❤️) : @velvetmoonlght

[moonkhao]

Saint. What? Thank you. We are friends. It’s not a big deal.

HIGH SCHOOL FRENEMY | EP3

[beloveds-embrace]

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

[graciehart]

Emily’s Follower Appreciation Event 🌷 ⤷ 💝 I GOT YOU: a f.r.i.e.n.d.s playlist

when colors turn to shades of grey with the weight of the world at the end of the day, oh, what would I do without you?

for @userlaylivia ♡ playlist / songs ↘

Friends is a show about friends who become your family, so this is a playlist of songs for those people; songs I hope would bring comfort, reassurance, and strength.

SATELLITE CALL by Sara Bareilles / "this is so you'll know the sound / of someone who loves you from the ground / tonight you're not alone at all / this is me sending out my satellite call." Starting this playlist with a reminder that no matter where you are, you're not alone—I'm reaching out with my heart, sending out a satellite call to you anywhere you are, reminding you I'm here.

PLEASE STAY by Lucy Dacus / One of my favorite parts of this song is when she sings "call me if you need a friend or never talk to me again, but please stay." It feels like such pure, unselfish love—if you need me I'm here, or if you choose to never talk to me again, that's okay as long as you stay.

CALL YOUR MOM by Noah Kahan & Lizzy McAlpine / "Don't let this darkness fool you / all lights turned off can be turned on / I'll drive, I'll drive all night / I'll call your mom." Whatever you need, I'll do it, as long as you get through this with me.

BE STILL by the Fray / This was sent to me by someone when I was having a really hard time, and I remember crying on my bed, listening to this song as though it could surround me in a hug. To me, it's a hug in song form.

SURROUND YOU by Echosmith / "Wherever you are / whenever you need me / just crawl in my arms / oh, and I'll hold you beside me / I want my love to surround you."

HAS ANYONE EVER WRITTEN ANYTHING FOR YOU by Stevie Nicks / This is another song that was sent to me by someone and I'm so glad; I probably never would've heard it otherwise. The lyrics are so beautiful. My favorites are: "so if not for me then do it for yourself / if not for me then do it for the world." Find a reason to keep going... no matter what it is, it's enough.

YOU MATTER TO ME by Jessie Mueller & Drew Gehling / Even though this song has some romantic undertones, it doesn't necessarily have to be romantic. And it's one of my favorites because the message is so simple and so profound: you matter to me. What you say matters, your very existence matters to me.

FOR GOOD by Idina Menzel & Kristin Chenoweth / Nothing I could say could ever do this song justice, and the lyrics really say it all.

WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU by Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors / The featured lyrics in this gifset are from this song, and it has such a beautifully simple message: what would I do without you?

LET YOUR HEART HOLD FAST by Fort Atlantic / "This too shall pass" in song form.

CALL ME ON YOUR WAY HOME by Emily James / There are so many was to say "I love you," including "text me when you wake up" and "call me on your way home."

SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME by Sara Bareilles / Some of the most beautiful lyrics I've ever heard and what I hope all of my friends feel with someone in their lives, whether it be me or someone else.

I GOT YOU by Leona Lewis / "For better, for worse / I got you."

FEELS LIKE by Gracie Abrams / One of my favorite songs to begin with and all the more so when I found out it was written about her best friend. I love the feeling of wonder it describes—"met you at the right time / this is what it feels like."

I'M ONLY ME WHEN I'M WITH YOU by Taylor Swift / Such a beautiful way of describing friendship and a beautiful type of friendship to experience, one I hope all my friends experience.

WITH YOU by Colorfire / This song always reminds me of friendship because when I graduated middle school, one of the friends in my friend group made a video of us to this song. I like how it says "keep turning, turning;" there's a feeling of time passing in the song, but that friendship and relationship stays constant.

SWEETER THAN FICTION by Taylor Swift / "I'll be one of the many saying look at you now, look at you now / I'll be one of the many saying you made us proud, you made us proud."

RAINBOW by Kacey Musgraves / A final hope for this playlist: hope that you'll make your way to the other side, that you'll be able to see the rainbow that's been there, maybe hidden out of view. A promise that when you can't have hope, I'll have enough hope for the both of us until that hope—that rainbow—is once again visible.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Let Me Hear You Say

The three times that Minghao resists confessing, and the one time it accidentally slips.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption and being drunk.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

“I’m here!” You bust into Minghao’s studio, tossing bags, a coat, and half a dozen other things down in a chaotic mess. “Traffic was terrible,” you moan, collapsing onto the small couch in the corner. 

Minghao looks unimpressed with your dramatics as he peers over his canvas at you. “You sure do know how to make an entrance,” he muses. “What kind of trail of destruction did you leave on the way here?”

“Just a few things knocked over, I don’t think anything broke this time.” Some might think you’re joking, but Minghao knows you’re serious. You’re a bull in a china shop on a good day, and an F-5 tornado on a bad day. He secretly thinks of these comparisons affectionately. “What are you working on?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest. I had some colors in mind and I just went with it,” he mumbles, stepping back to see what he’s done. You join him glancing over the canvas. You give him a wide smile. 

“I like that shade of blue.” 

“So predictable,” he chuckles. “Make yourself useful and mix me some more of it then. And don’t waste paint.”

“No promises!” You exclaim, taking his palette from him and going to the work bench that holds all of his paint collection. When you hand the palette back to him a couple minutes later, he examines the color closely. It’s so, so close that it’s nearly imperceptible. Bull in a china shop that you are, combined with the skills in some arts that you lack, he’s kind of proud of you that you’re willing to stand still and focus long enough to get so close. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you. He never does when he can tell you’re really trying. 

But you’re pouting anyway, glancing between the palette and the canvas. “It needs more white.” He holds the palette above your head when you reach for it. 

“No, it’s fine. I told you not to waste paint. It’s so close I barely noticed.” 

You smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re just saying that. It’s obviously too dark. Give it here. I’ll add a little more white.” 

“No.” Minghao is already dipping the brush in the color you mixed. “I like this one better anyway. Don’t forget the ratio you used. I want you to write it down.” 

“Okay,” you sing, grabbing a pen and paper from his work bench. Once you’re done, it goes it the collection of Y/N’s Colors, a special little spot in the corner stacked high with little scraps of paper. He wonders if you notice how often those colors reappear in his works. Probably not, which is just as well.

Two

It’s Minghao’s day off and you drag him to the art gallery. You say there’s a new collection that you’re interested in seeing. It surprises him, because it’s usually him that’s dragging you to places like this. It’s usually too quiet and not exciting enough for you, and you bounce on your feet, trailing behind him until he’s ready to go. 

This time, you’re many paces ahead of him on the sidewalk, turning excitedly to get him to hurry up. “Since when do you rush for something like this?” Minghao asks, watching you bounce up the stairs to the entrance. 

“You’ll see.” Your eyes are a little wild. You grab his hand and start tugging him like he’s not moving fast enough. Usually you both would start at the beginning and slowly make your way through the room, but you’re tugging him somewhere in the middle. You come to an abrupt stop and he nearly bumps into you. “This is the one I wanted to show you.”

You point to a photograph. It’s black and white and a little out of focus, but that’s the entire point. He recognizes the style and doesn’t really need to look at the little placard underneath the photo. “You didn’t tell me you submitted something,” he admonished, admiring your work. 

You sort of squeal and shake his arm. “I didn’t think they’d accept it. I found out yesterday,” you talk fast. It’s only because he’s known you for a while that he can keep up with your motor mouth. “I guess someone had to pull out last minute and mine was a back up. It’s small, but isn’t it cool?”

“It is,” Minghao says genuinely. “This is great, Y/N. I’m proud of you.” He pushes you towards the photo. “Come on. Pose for a picture.” 

“Oh, no Minghao. You know I prefer to be behind the camera,” you whine, resisting his shove. 

“I won’t post it. It’s just for me,” he promises. You sigh, standing next to your piece. He snaps a quick photo before you decide to bolt. He lied a little. He didn’t post it on social media, not even his private accounts. But he did get it printed and framed for his studio. He hangs it up high so you won’t be able to reach it and get rid of it easily if you ever notice it. 

Three

Woozi whistles when he flips through the pages. Minghao spins in the chair, waiting for a response. It’s not too often that he presents lyrics for the group’s use. He’s better at other forms of media, primarily visual aspects. Still, sometimes he tries his hand at it and gives it to Woozi to do with it what he will. 

“I could use some of this,” Woozi finally says. “I’ll credit you if I do.”

“Don’t bother,” Minghao waves off. “You know that’s not what’s important to me.”

“I know,” Woozi chuckles. “You make it pretty obvious what’s important to you.”

Minghao raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, my focus is performance and choreography.”

“I know that,” Woozi rolls his eyes. “I meant, it’s obvious who all of these are about. You should really do something about that.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Minghao says shortly. “They’re just lyrics. They aren’t that serious.”

Woozi hums, though he looks a little bit entertained. “Denial is a really strong start, but not very convincing though. What’s so wrong with just telling her?”

“Tell her what? She’s just a friend.” 

Another eye roll, and Woozi goes back to his computer. “Fine, have it your way. You can deny that, I guess, but you can’t deny the writing credits you’ll get.”

Minghao leaves the studio before he can be roped back into that conversation. 

Four

Later that night, he agrees to go out with some of the members for drinks. He’s distracted and keeps taking whatever is handed to him, drinking faster than he normally would. He’s busy replaying the conversation with Woozi in his head. He’s never said it out loud, never admitted it, and no one has ever called it out so blatantly either. He’d always preferred it that way, maybe because then it doesn’t feel real and he can shove it to the back of his head to deal with later, or never. Something about Woozi’s direct comments make it hard to ignore, makes it feel real and it’s a little suffocating. 

He’s nearly asleep at the table when he loses the grip on his glass. His eyes snap open, scrambling for it, but it’s not that it’s slipped. Rather, a hand his tugging it away. He recognizes the hand because he’s watched it mix paint for him more than a few times. He releases the glass and puts his head in his hand, rubbing away the headache that’s formed somewhere between his eyebrows. 

You rub his back, voice teasing. “Having fun?” 

“Loads,” he mumbles. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”

“I did. I’m already off. Jun called and said you might need a ride home,” you say lightly. Minghao checks his watch and groans at the time. He’s lost hours dozing at the table, it seems. You laugh, patting his back. “Come on, you can crash at my place. It’s closer.”

He lets you throw his arm around your shoulder once he’s standing and he hopes it doesn’t look like you’re carrying him, though you kind of are. You help him into the car and even buckle his seat belt. If he were sober, he’d never let you do that, but he’s a little overwhelmed by how nice you smell when you lean in close. He must doze off during the drive, because he wakes up to the smell of your perfume again as you’re leaning over him to unbuckle him. 

Inside your apartment, you help him out of his shoes and help him lie down on the couch. “Feel like you’re going to be sick?” He shakes his head and prays it will stay that way. “Okay, be right back.” In what feels like both a spilt second and a hundred years, you reappear with a bottle of water and a few aspirin. “Take these, get a head start.” He does as you say and then curls up into the pillow. A fluffy blanket comes over him. 

“Thanks. Love you.”

You laugh and the sound makes the corner of his lips turn up. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that. Who knew you’d be such a sweet drunk?”

“Just to you,” Minghao mumbles. 

“Aww, am I special?” You chuckle, brushing back his hair. 

He hums in agreement. “Yep. Love you. In love with you.”

You guffaw, standing up. “Okay, honey. Get some rest.” He’s pretty sure he’s asleep before you even turn the lights off. 

He wakes up the next morning to the smell of coffee. It’s strong, mostly because when he opens his eyes you’re waving the mug under his nose. He rears back, groaning at the sudden movement because his head is pounding. You laugh, placing the mug in his hands. “Aspirin is on the table. Take some more. Breakfast is coming up.”

Later, in between bites, you ask, “So did you have fun last night?”

“I don’t know,” Minghao mumbles. “Don’t remember much to be honest. I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?”

“It depends,” you smile, taking another bite. “Does confessing your love for me count as stupid?”

Minghao chokes on his coffee, nearly spraying it across the table. “I did what?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “I don’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but you said ‘love you’ twice, and then ‘in love with you’ once. It was very sweet. You’re very sweet, even if you didn’t mean it.”

Minghao’s silent for a long time and you let him be, probably thinking he needs a minute to collect himself from the embarrassment. But you’ve got it all wrong. He kind of wishes he had the liquid courage he did last night. He can’t really look at you when he says, “I meant it.”

You stare at him for a few long seconds before finally smiling. “Good.” You’re up on your feet and he never knows how you have so much energy, but you’re bounding around the table and cupping his face, pressing the smallest peck to his lips. 

He’s momentarily stunned before he’s pushing you back. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“I have a brand new one under the sink. You better hurry.” He does, jumping up to run to the bathroom. He can hear your laugh echo down the hallway and thinks this will probably the first and last time he’ll ever be relieved to have gotten drunk the night before. 

[strawberriesoup]

lollipop٠࣪⭑

── .✦ You make a deal with Jisung.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, skater!jisung x female reader, friends to lovers, neighbor au

warnings: cursing, reader is kind of a brat, kissing, borderline making out, much fluff

taglist: @jisunggy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Maybe this deal wasn’t such a good idea.

Your most recent obsession, Stardew Valley, had you begging Jisung to play just one game with you. planning to bug him into submission, you would bring up the game every chance you got. After about a week, he finally relented and agreed to play with you. On one condition. You had to let him teach you a trick on that goddamn skateboard of yours.

You from this morning had agreed. You from this morning was an idiot.

Now, you’re sweating your ass off on a dingy green park bench in the middle of July, chugging what little water you have left out of your regrettably small bottle. It had been what, three hours now? And you just couldn’t get the damned trick down. If you have to hear the words, “One more time! You were so close!” again, you might commit a war crime. The plastic of the bottle crinkles as you crush it and toss it towards the nearest trash can. You miss.

In an attempt to get Jisung’s attention, you sprawl your limbs obnoxiously over the length of the bench.

“You’re trying to kill me.” You groan, theatrically draping an arm over your face, “Your sick games won’t work forever.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whiner you would get the hang of it faster.” Jisung suggests helpfully as he successfully throws your bottle in the trash and takes a seat next to you, shoving your leg out of the way to make room. He’s sweaty as well, and proceeds to take over any space that is left on bench.

You are most definitely not thinking about how you would love to devour him whole right now. No, that would be silly.

Five years ago, Jisung moved into the neighborhood. Both of you being in freshman year of high school, it started with you two carpooling to school. Which turned into doing homework on the weekends. Which resulted in the two of you being permanently attached at the hip.

And the whole time, you’ve had the biggest, juiciest crush on him.

That little smirk when you’re teasing him? Smitten. When he raises his arms and you can see a sliver of that waist beneath the folds of his hoodie? Good lord. And don’t even get you started on his habit of running his hand through his hair.

But of course, you’re too much of a chicken to actually tell him about it. Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you like that, and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself to find out.

“Well excuse me for not particularly enjoying having heatstroke. I’m done.”

Arms crossed, you challenge him to say something. Unfortunately, he’s gotten pretty good at dealing with your shit over the years.

In favor of a response, a pointed look is sent by Jisung, one eyebrow raised along with a just barely suppressed smile coloring his features. A bead of sweat rolls down the left side of his flushed face, suggesting that he’s probably just as warm and uncomfortable as you and he’s not complaining. Whatever. You’re still going to bitch about it.

“But you were almost there, I swear! Just one more time, pleasee?” Jisung pleads, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. Not this tactic again. You hate it when he does that. He knows you can’t say no. It’s an unfair advantage.

Skateboarding with Jisung had been a nearly daily exhibition for around a year and a half now. Well, you say “skateboarding” but it really just consists of you riding to and from the convenience store at the end of the block every couple of days. Which you manage to do without falling over, thank you very much. Jisung was just a natural at it, always had been. You were, quite frankly, not.

You had never attempted a trick, content with simply watching Jisung in his element. There’s something theraputic about watching a master of their craft in action. Also you were scared of falling and breaking an arm again.

Fine. Fine. You’ll try one more time.

“Okay, one more time. But this is the last try, or I swear to God I’m going to feed your hamster to Bagel.”

Jisung grips the front of his shirt in mock offense at the threat, his gasps of, “You monster!” trailing you as you stomp off with your skateboard onto the open pavement.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Now remember, left foot on the back edge…”

A small breeze had started to pick up, alleviating some of your discomfort. The surrounding air was less stifling now, the wind bringing the scent of freshly cut grass to your senses.

What was this trick called again? A strawberry milkshake? It was one of the “easier” tricks, according to Jisung. If by “easy” he meant that it’s the mental equivalent to stepping on a lego, he was right on. This shit is hard.

The firm hold that Jisung’s hand currently has on your waist makes it even harder. He’s really not helping you focus on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, both in preparation for the trick and to quiet down the rushing of blood in your ears, you repeat the same motion you had been working on for the better portion of the afternoon.

Front foot off. Wrap around. Land.

By Jisung’s reaction, you would think you had won the lottery. He’s pumping both fists in the air and shouting, completely beside himself. You landed it! You really did!

You then proceed to wipe out on the pavement.

Yeah, that checks out.

As you’re brushing the fall from your pants, you are nearly bowled over by Jisung, who sweeps you up and spins you around in a tight hug. The rush of the breeze around you has you laughing breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life.

“Yes! Holy shit, see? I knew you could do it! That was awesome!” He sets you down, looking at you with beams of pride spilling from his crinkled eyes and heart-shaped smile.

“I did it! I finally did it!” You squeal, the adrenaline and genuine excitement of the moment taking control of your body as you bounce up and down, gripping his fingers as you do so.

The grin Jisung gives you is bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world, you’re sure of it. You want to keep him in your hands forever and never let go.

But, you do. After a minute of joint celebration, you inform him that you’re going to sit down for a minute to catch your breath.

Finding a nearby tree, you settle beneath its branches, eyes adjusting to the newfound shade. The grass is cool beneath your palms, calming your sun-kissed skin.

As you watch Jisung continue to skate you’re reminded of just how good at this he is. He navigates his skateboard like it’s as simple as walking, every one of his tricks are landed with precision and ease. His habit of biting his lower lip in concentration anytime he performs an air is doing nothing for your sanity though.

Your crippling sweet tooth prods at you, so you decide to reward yourself. Rustling through your bag, you pull out a lollipop, popping it into your mouth. Its tart sweetness bathes your tongue, and you cross your legs, humming contentedly as you resume your attention on Jisung.

After about ten more minutes, he’s jogging over to you with his skateboard in hand. Your heart noticeably picks up its pace. Stop that. Calm down.

Taking a seat next to you, Jisung runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair, one arm supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on his knee. He looks ethereal, skin glowing with the gentle brush of light falling from the tree above.

Then, without so much as a “hello”, the lollipop is yanked from your hand and held out of your grasp.

“Jisung, are you serious? Give it back!” You shout in exasperation at the loss of your sugar source. Is he seven years old? Who does that?

“Nuh-uh, what’s the magic word?” He stretches his arm away as you basically tackle him, reaching vainly for the candy.

“I’m not the one who should be saying please here!”

You have an idea. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you pull him towards you. This is definitely the dumbest thing you’ve done all week. But it’s too late now. You can see his eyes fly wide, trying to process the situation as you plant a kiss right on his lips. He’s soft. And warm.

When you pull away, you take the opportunity to snatch the candy back from Jisung’s now limp hand. Popping the sucker back into your mouth, you grin at him smugly. It worked.

Jisung sits there, unmoving. Lips slightly parted, he stares at you, his gaze shifting from your eyes, fluttering down to your lips, and back again. Shit, was that a bad idea? That was a bad idea. You probably should have asked first. What the fuck were you thinking?

Before you could blurt out any sort of apology, he’s grabbing your hand and the candy is pulled from your lips with a pop. It falls onto the cool grass below.

A shaking hand slots underneath your chin with barely suppressed eagerness and he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a proper kiss. The heat from his body and the sweep of his breath over you are all-consuming. blocking out the world, save for him.

This. Him. Everything about it just feels… easy. Natural. The way he cradles your jaw firmly, but with a careful gentleness that is entirely and solely Jisung. The way his free hand drapes down your side, coming to rest on top of your hip. The way his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

The tree’s rough bark presses against your back as he leads you backwards, the sweetness of the lollipop being traded between your mouths. A flame starts to burn in your chest, spreading like wildfire until your whole body is alight with the flicker of butterfly wings.

Drawing away to look at you, Jisung runs his tongue over his glistening lips.

He’s holding himself back. He wants nothing more than to consume you, your essence, everything. He wants to show you how much he cares. He also wants to suck every last drop of sweetness from your lips. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he knows you want it as much as he does. But, God, you drive him crazy. His eyebrows pinch and he shakes his head, trying to clear it.

You feel the loss of his ministrations on you like a load of bricks. Wrapping a hand around the back of his head, you pull him onto you once more, wanting -no- needing more of him. He needs more of you too, as is evident by the way his hands tighten and by his quiet gasp of breath when you oh-so gently nip his lower lip, teasing him.

This time, you’re the one to pull away, giggling awkwardly as he squeezes his eyes shut, clearly attempting to pull himself together.

Peeking at you, he finally makes eyes contact, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Wow…” Is all he manages out, and your giggles morph into full on laughter. You make a kissy face at him which earns you a shove to your shoulder, and Jisungs ears turning a bright red.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me!” he complains, bringing out that pout of his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder, “you’re just such a dork.”

With your side of the deal completed, it’s his turn to pay up. With the steadily setting sun lighting your way, Jisung accompanies you to your house after the silent agreement to play games now, sort out weird feelings later.

epilogue ─☆

As your game loads up, Jisung decides to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible, curling up and hunching over his respective screen. Occasionally, he glances up at you, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Okay. What is he hiding.

You (with grace) crawl across the couch to him, taking a page from his book and snatching the switch from his hands. He yells and kicks you in protest, but not before you had seen his screen.

J.one J.one’s Farm

Day 9 of Winter, Year 3 124,196g

Hours Spent: 106

One hundred and six hours. Jisung had told you that he’d never heard of the game before, let alone played it, and had very begrudgingly agreed to humor you. This whole time he’d been playing it? Why didn’t he- oh.

Jisung looks up at you with a sheepish grin, having been caught in his little scheme.

“I just wanted you to skate with me- ow!” he exclaims, bringing up his hands in defense as you bonk him with the switch.

“Next time maybe just ask?”

“How would I have gotten my kiss then?”

[fallbhind]

A smut with Victoria and the reader going shopping together for Victoria to buy a new, expensive power suit of hers and one thing leading to another which ends in the new suit being stained would cure me i fear

victoria being the great girlfriend she is and taking you expensive shopping. it all started when she had decided to buy a new suit, than leading the subtle 'fill-me-up' touches, her fingers trailing along your body, pressing gentle kisses whenever and wherever. which always earned a 'baby stop it' 'stop' and so forth. but she never listened to what she wanted you to do.

"you think this is nice?" she asked, pulling out a suit. a black suit in your opinion was great on victoria. ditto with any color, really. victoria didn't really need your opinion, she knew it was a nice suit, she just had to keep you busy so you wouldn't whine about doing something else.

you nodded, "mhm." she had pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, "go try it on—" you practically demanded of her, and per usual, she forced you in the dressing room. you weren't aloud to be in public without her, it was just, unsafe. in her opinion. and she was just really horny, so what's better than a lil' bit of touchy touchy action in a dressing room.

you stepped in the dressing room, following suit victoria. she'd locked the door, to make sure no one else could come in. victoria was peeling of her clothes as you sat on the bench, watching her do so. fuck, she was just so— perfect. and not to mention the effect she had on you. she put on the suit, turning to you.

practicallly begging for victoria to help you release how you felt, she walked over to you. "need some help?" she teased under her breath, kneeling to your eye level. she pressed down on your pussy through your pants. before you knew it, she was using her thumb to push of your pants, following suit was your underwear. "you should start wearing dresses. they'd fit you." she said, slowly moving her finger against your clit. one hand was working at your clit while the other was forcing your legs apart. slowly.

you nodded. she smiled, "i'll start wearing dresses." you said in a whimpery tone, feeling her hand work at your clit, purely overstimulating you for her own pleasure, pushing past your tight hole. she was pumping her two fingers in and out of you. as you should already know, she wasn't about to stop even after she helped you. it was for her pleasure when pleasing anything, not to be selfish. but it was true.

she felt your puffy clit as she moved in and out your tight hole, you held your hand over your mouth as you let out soft noises. "fuck, your s'tight, my have to fuck you with strap on tonight." she said softly, and victoria hardly ever put on the strap. that's how you know you were screwed. you squeezed around her fingers, feeling her slow down.

after a few more pumps of her finger, you released graciously on her and the pretty new black suit. you cried out, your hand falling from your mouth as your chest heaved. the suit wasn't much of victoria's concern, it was going to be hers soon anyways. she just had to make sure you wouldn't look like a complete mess walking out.

[thatonebirdwrites]

Spookycorp

"Oró mo leanbh beag Fan na luí ag mo thaobh Ná scar uaim

(Oh, my little baby Always stay by my side Do not part from me),"

Lena wakes to pain. She shudders and opens her eyes, only to wince at the glare of green light.

When she'd gone to bed that night, she'd curled under her covers in her bed, in her penthouse, where no green light existed. She'd been crying herself to sleep, broken and alone, knowing that no one was coming to save her. Not after what she did to Kara. Not after Non Nocere. Not after Hope-Eve was arrested in her place.

Her fingers sink into loam, the texture fluffy and gritty. Not her bed.

Her head aches, and she pushes herself to her knees.

Opening her eyes cautiously, she realizes she's in a forest. Or what might be a forest. Bright orange tree bark melds into the red and yellow leaves, each fluorescent and glowing. The green light seems to come through the rays of sunlight that curls around the branches like a sensuous light snake.

What the hell?

She's pretty certain she did not take any drugs last night. Nor did she drink much more than two glasses of scotch. That's not enough to cause hallucinations. Surely not? Unless someone poisoned her? She wouldn't put it past Alex, if she felt the need to eliminate Lena due to what she'd done.

She'd deserve it. Guilt merges with her fear and confusion.

The crack of a twig catches her attention. She turns her head to see several mice crawl out from under a bush. They line up in a row and stand on their hind legs to sniff the air.

"A human." They say in what sounds like a foreign language but the words translate in Lena's mind. Which is preposterous, and yet here they are talking.

Their words bounce between each of them. "What's a human doing here?" says one. Another interrupts, "A human! Humans are a myth." A third cuts in, "no, look, it's looking at us. It's real." A fourth adds, "A human here? How strange!"

Lena blinks and wonders if she's lost her mind. "Talking mice?" she says out loud. Considering all that has happened, maybe she has lost her mind. Seems the Luthor way.

The mice hop backward at her words. "It speaks!" One squeaks. Another, who wears pants on its lower half and a vest on is top half like some sort of Disney character, chatters, "Is it intelligent?"

"Yes," Lena says, irritated. "Where am I?" She really is mad for talking to mice, but she needs to figure this place out so she can return home.

"She doesn't know?" Says the smallest one. "How does she not know?" the clothed one replies. A third one, the roundest of the quartet, says "They must not be intelligent." The fourth one interrupts, "Oh, but they are here. We must answer."

The way they talk over one another annoys Lena further. She grips the bark of the nearest tree to leverage herself to her feet. Dizziness assaults her, and she has to briefly close her eyes until the world steadies. When she opens them, nothing has changed. The mice still argue, the colors are all wrong, and the sun beams seem almost alive.

"You seek answers. Seek the Mad Hatter," the clothed mice says. "Yes, yes!" chatter the others, "The mad hatter knows all!"

What the fuck? "That's a children's story. Alice in Wonderland." This must be a tripped out dream. There's no way she was in wonderland.

The mice hop back and forth in excitement, chanting, "the human knows after all! Smart human. Good human. See the mad hatter!" They dart back into the bush.

Lena's left wondering how in hell she'll find this mad hatter, and why would she want to talk to someone mad. That sounds like an opportunity for disaster.

But considering she has no idea where she is, she dusts off her pajamas -- the Supergirl ones she'd bought years ago as a guilty pleasure, ironic that she'd worn it last night. Even after everything, she can't let go of Kara. She starts down the narrow trail through the psychedelic forest.

Whispers and crinkles of creatures in the forest herald her progress. One sounds suspiciously like a lullaby she hasn't heard in years.

"Oró mo stóirín Thug tú dochas mo stóirín Go mbeidh mé slán

(Oh my darling You give me hope, my darling May I be safe)"

The sun beams continue to snake and seethe with an alarming energy. Several times, one of the beams slithers over her shoulder, and it burns. She jerks away, her clothes smoking and a charred mark on her garment.

The path curls around massively colorful trees, their roots seeming to appear out of nowhere as if to purposely trip Lena. Branches catch locks of her hair, and she has to untangle herself in a fit of fury. She starts to duck each time a branch moves even a quarter of an inch.

The path stops abruptly at a massive stone wall. The stones are layered like an old medieval fence, and it looms at least ten feet if not taller. Trees crowd her right and left, and Lena can't see any other way forward.

Unless she climbs.

Her feet ache in time with her head, as she's barefoot and the ground a litany of bruises and cuts with each step. Sure, why not add climbing to her soreness?

She grips a stone above her head, and nestles her foot on a lower one close to the ground. Slowly, she maneuvers up the stone wall. As she progresses she feels the middle of the wall expand outward then retract, almost like it breathes.

The fuck?

"Oh," a deep voice echoes around her. "Oh... feels good." The words are said slowly as if the creature chews on each.

Lena freezes, clinging to the wall. "Who are you?" She scans the area, but she can't see anything beyond the wall and the trees, who crowd the wall as if the path she'd taken never existed.

"Oh... you climb me...." the wall expands and retracts as each word takes almost a minute to complete.

"You got to be shitting me," Lena mutters. "A talking wall. Talking mice. Light snakes. What's next?"

"Haaaaats," the wall replies. "Preeetty haaats. Climb human. Seeeeee for yourself."

Lena frowns and resumes her climb. Better to get the fuck off this creature before it decides to eat her or something. She scrambles up the last few feet and pulls herself atop it. Her breath catches in her throat.

Bright blue grass flows outward from the wall and coats rolling hills. In the distance she can see clusters of buildings around a stream that glows green, and beyond that, farther away, a massive red and white tower looms like a threatening sentinel. Dark clouds with lightning hover above the castle, but the sky above the rolling hills is cloudless and bright. The sun above a green hue with the faint imprint of what looks almost like a face.

Lena looks away before the sun can burn her eyesight. She turns and looks behind her, only to see the canopy of the psychedelic forest stretch for miles until they reach what looks like massive mountain peaks, or more like rocky spires.

She doesn't see any hats though. She wonders if she misheard the wall. It did speak far too slow.

Right. She's pondering what a speaking wall said. Great. Definitely losing her mind.

The wind whistles around her, and for a moment, that song returns.

"Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…

(Sleep peacefully, sleep peacefully Sleep peacefully, my sweet child…)"

Hadn't her birth mother sang that to her when she was alive?

Unnerved, she hurries down the pasture-side of the wall. Because she's in a rush, she misses one of her footrests and slips. She tumbles and lands on her side. Pain blossoms in her arm.

"What a fall!" an unfamiliar voice says. "Beautiful fall. But not graceful fall. Eight out of ten. Yes, yes, eight out of ten."

She pushes herself upright and comes face to face with a massive rabbit, who wears a bright red top hat and a scarlet vest with blue pants. Stunned, she stares at rabbit, speechless.

"Aw, what do you see?" The rabbit hops around her. "What captures your eye, fall-er? Do you wish to fall again? Improve your score? What a game! Let us fall, tumble, prance, dive." The rabbit leaps upward, bounces off the wall, and crashes to the ground next to her in a badly done roll.

"Who the hell are you?" Lena dusts dirt off her pants and tries to adjust her clothes to look at least somewhat dignified, and not at all like she stood in pajamas in a tripped-up world.

"Ah, she asks questions! Questions require answers. Oh, how shall we answer?" The rabbit hops up to her, and beady black eyes survey Lena. "Mad. We are mad. You are mad. We are all mad. Come. You require tea. Everyone requires tea. Tea requires tea."

The rabbit pulls a golden watch out of their vest and looks at it. "Oh dear, oh dear indeed! We will be late. We cannot be late. Come, come, we must be tea. Tea must be us. We will drink tea. Tea requires us." It hops up a hill and pauses to look back at Lena.

What the hell, she has no idea what else to do. "Fine, I'm coming." She stomps up the hill, angry and irritated. The pain in her arm throbs in tune with her feet and head.

The rabbit moves far faster than Lena. She struggles to keep pace and resorts to a jog. The rabbit -- Mad Hatter maybe? -- keeps up a strange commentary that dances between topics faster than Lena's grumbling protests.

"-- look at the sky. Clouds hide from the sun. Did you know the sun is a sun? What is a sun? The sun is the sun. What a strange word, sun. Three letters, like the three of the sun."

What the hell does that even mean? "Slow down," Lena grumbles under her breath.

The rabbit ignores her. "Humans. What is a human? You are a human. Humans are human. No a sun. Not me. I am not human. Or am I human? Tea is tea, and humans like tea. I like tea. Is that enough to be human? What suffices?"

"Humans are more than tea-drinkers," Lena retorts, somewhat offended.

The rabbit finally slows as it approaches a clearing with wooden walls and vines hanging along the walls. Once they're within three feet, the walls open and the rabbit darts through. Lena stumbles through, only to stop in surprise.

A table and chairs are set up atop checkered tiles. Tea pots litter the table, and tea cups sit in front of each place setting. A few other animals sit at some of the chairs -- mice, a giraffe (she's baffled as to how the giraffe fits on that tiny chair), an elephant (half of it doesn't seem to exist in this world as it keeps fading in and out), a dog, a cat, and a tall, golden-haired person with her back to Lena.

The person hovers over a stove and hums a tune that sounds strangely like the song Kara used to sing all the time during her pop-techno phase. This one hits her hard as Kara sang it each time they'd cooked together.

"Tell me, how do you fight a machine? You follow the sound of your heart in the dream Áddjá I've got change in my eyes But I'm singing for you Mun jearán áddjás."

The golden hair sweeps down the person's back in tight ringlets. Voluminous pants swish as the person moves back and forth as if dancing to the tune. The shirt has ruffles around the neck and large, balloon like sleeves. The colors are blue and red, and the person feels familiar.

Yet, it can't be. Lena stares, stunned, motionless.

The rabbit tugs on her arm. "Aha, tea party! It is nearly time. Time, time, time, we can't be late now." The Mad Hatter taps its pocket watch. "Come, we mustn't be late. Late is poor etiquette, bad. Not good. We cannot allow not good. We must be good. Wonderful. Happy. Come!"

She lets the rabbit pull her across the short distance to the table.

When she reaches an empty chair, that's when the person turns with a ridiculously ornate pot of tea in their hands -- a pot that looks oddly like a tea with a bulb-like base. Sapphire eyes meet Lena's, and a smile curves the rosy-pink lips. Her tanned skin glows almost in the green-tinted light.

She looks like Kara Danvers, but that can't be.

She stares, frozen to the ground, unable to move.

The last time she saw Kara had been at that icy fortress. She'd unleashed her anger and pain, but even as she had told Kara the truth, poured out what she'd done, what Kara had done to hurt her, she'd desperately wanted Kara to fix it.

Or was that just a dream? She struggles to remember, but the memory feels hazy. Indistinct.

Maybe the last time was when she pressed the signal watch to trick Kara into coming to her so Andrea could infiltrate the DEO.

Or did that happen? Is it another dream? Her memory feels patchy, unreal, and the world around her seeps through her with a chill that leaves her trembling with fear.

Is this really Kara? The one she loves? The one she hates? The one she can't escape?

"Kara?" she breathes out. She trembles and looks around for a way out, but the wooden trellis that circles them has no doorway. Only wood and vines.

The person tilts her head. "Kara?" she repeats. "Odd." She pours tea into one of the animals' cups. She realizes that the animals all wear hats of different colors and styles, and their vests are glittering. "You are a funny human," the Kara-like person says in Kara's voice.

"If -- if you're not Kara, then who are you?" Lena feels unmoored.

"Who am I indeed?" Kara-like person grins. "Come, join us. It's tea time. We mustn't be late."

Fear drips down Lena's spine. She sits down gingerly. Something is majorly wrong here, but she can't figure out what to do. How to break whatever spell has her trapped in this hell place.

"Ah, tea!" cries the rabbit. It raises its cup, this one decorated with flowers that writhe across the porcelain. "Tea invigorates. Rejuvenates. Tea is tea. Tea becomes us. We become tea. Drink, friends. Drink to the One Who Sees All!"

The chorus of animals cheer and raise their own intricately decorated cups. The Kara-like person approaches Lena and pours her tea. It's an amber-liquid, and her sapphire eyes bore into Lena. "Drink, Lena," she says. "Drink and be one with the tea. Becomes the tea, the tea becomes you. The One Who Sees All delights in your presence."

Lena pushes away from the table. "No." The world around her flickers as if an unsteady television show. All the animals turn and stare at her.

One in particular-- the violet-hued cat, grows in size, and its grin expands dramatically. "Ah, the humans fears us. How delightful. Come, come, drink, human. Drink and be tea." Its body starts to slowly vanish until only its grin and blood-red eyes glare into Lena's soul. "Wash away your troubles. No more pain. No more suffering."

Lena backs away until her back hits the vine-crusted trellises. "No. No, that's not right."

The cat blinks out of existence. The giraffe turns to her next, its body rippling like water. "You call to us. The drink calls you. The One Who Sees All appreciates your work." The giraffe laughs, until its body fades into a silhouette of its outline, but then that too fades.

She has to get out of here. "Kara, please," she turns to the only other human. "You said my name. We need to get out of here."

The Kara-look-alike tilts her head, only to tilt it more and more until it's almost at a ninety-degree angle with her body. "Kara, Kara, you say Kara, but is it Kara you desire? Or Kara you wish to dominate you? Kara you wish to destroy? Kara you seek, you reject, you hurt, you save."

Terror grips her, and she tries to climb the trellis, but the vines whip around her wrists. Tugs her firm against the wood, and she's trapped. Tied up and unable to pull free. It holds her fast.

The Kara-like person jerks back into a more human form and then briefly vanishes, only to reappear closer. A teacup is in her hands. The liquid isn't amber-hued anymore. It's blood-red.

Lena clamps her mouth shut and turns her face away.

"Drink. Drink. No more pain. No more suffering. No more life. All is one. We see all. We are the One." Kara's voice sounds sweet, gentle almost, but her words carry a horror that twists Lena's stomach. "The One Who Sees All gives us life. Is that not what you desire?"

She's only a foot away, and she raises the cup of blood-like liquid. "If not tea, perhaps wine? You love wine. Wine loves you. We all are wine too." She grins, her teeth sparkling white, and her eyes crescents almost in her face.

The feel of this fake-Kara's hands on her face gives her a strength she didn't know she had. She screams and tears one leg free. She kicks the interloper and rips free an arm. She punches that perfect face.

"No. You aren't Kara!" She tears free of the vines and bats away the cup. Blood splashes across the blue grass and it wilts into brown.

The Fake-Kara stumbles backward. All the animals vanish, except for the rabbit, who jumps on the table and cackles.

"You fight! Human fights! Fighting human. Can you free yourself? Stop the madness? Go, go, and fight the One Who Sees All. Then and only then truth will appear."

It won't shut up. Lena throws a fist of soil at it, but the rabbits dodges. "The truth tea, the Tea of truth. The tea to end all teas. Ha, the human is foolish. Foolish and late. Late, late, late." The rabbit bounds up and over the vine-encrusted walls.

She's suddenly alone.

Her breathes come fast and ragged. Soil dribbles from her fingers. The table is empty except for cups and wine bottles, the tea pots gone. Red liquid spills across the table and stains the wood.

Lena's angry. Furious. How dare this place mimic Kara. How dare it! Kara of all people doesn't deserve this vile imitation.

"One Who Sees All!" Lena shouts. "Show your measly face! And leave Kara alone!"

The sky clouds over, and lightning flashes. Thunder roars and rain erupts. It floods the ground, washes away the vine-trellises, and the table floats away like a boat. The water tugs and pulls at her legs, threatening to toss her asunder.

The wind howls its song. "Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…"

Distracted by the song, she loses sight of the table. Something slimy grabs her legs and tugs her under. Water gushes into her mouth, and horror pierces her chest.

NO! She thrashes against the cold hand on her leg, and slams her foot into something soft.

Abruptly, she's released. She breaks the surface with a gasp.

Desperately, Lena struggles to stay afloat, but then the table floats just close enough for her to snag it. The wood splinters pierce her skin. Blood dribbles as she hauls herself atop it. She shivers and stares at what almost became her grave.

The waters raise higher. Her raft floats and spins as the waters continue to rise. Bits and pieces of debris litter the waves, and the lightning cavorts as if laughing above her, forming eerie grins.

She clings to her make-shift raft with all her strength. Hands pierce the water's surface, and she's drenched by another wave that forms into hands that tug and pull at her clothes and hair. She kicks the watery arms away.

The massive red and white tower looms before her, still a few miles away, but as the lightning grins once more, she sees a figure atop the tower. One with black hair pulled into a ponytail, and a large white cloak across their shoulders. The face is clouded in shadow, and the vision splinters at the next crack of thunder.

Lena's head splinters with pain. She grabs the table, and holds on for dear life as it spins and splashes. Water soaking her to the bone.

Time ceases to hold meaning. She knows not how long the table spins out of control on the raging waters, but it eventually comes to a stop against a massive boulder. She shivers and looks up to see black rock, shiny like obsidian almost. The table is lodged between two boulders. The waters have receded, and a path forms between the massive rocks.

Lena tries to wring out her pajamas to no avail. Giving up, she slides off the table and hits the mud. It squelches under her feet.

There's no where else she can go but forward. She clenches her fists and stalks up the winding path.

Exhaustion weighs on her. Her feet crunch against the gravel, and the creepy silence wraps tight around her. She feels blocked in, trapped, as the black rocks loom over her. Only a small sliver of sky peers into the gorge, the sunbeam twisting and turning but not quite reaching her.

She walks in gloom. It saturates her with a growing despair.

That's when the whispers start.

"Don't you dare, Alex!" Kara's voice echoes softly, despite her tone sounding like she shouts, and yet it's so faint, Lena almost misses it. "We haven't exhausted our options! I won't let you do this."

Another voice whispers. "We don't have time to deal with this. She chose this. Let her face the consequences." Cold, calculated Alex.

"Lena, Lena, what's wrong?" Kara again.

"Goddammit Lena, answer your damn phone! Don't make me come out there. You don't get to ghost your own goddaughter." This time it's Sam.

"Why won't she reply, Mom? Something's wrong, isn't it?" Ruby whispers.

"I'm sorry," Lena chokes out the words and tears sting her eyes. She'd avoided answering Sam's calls, and well, everyone's calls. She'd focused only on Non Nocere, her single-minded focus turning her into a spear of revenge and anger.

"What do you think is happening?" It's a voice she doesn't quite recognize. "I liked our project. This isn't solar energy. You don't think she's losing her mind like her brother?"

Workers. Her workers at L-Corp.

"This doesn't make sense. What could this part be for?"

"I won't do it. I'm quitting. She's just like her brother. Just hid it longer."

She shivers and puts her hands over her ears but it doesn't keep the whispers out. If anything they grow louder with each step she takes.

And weirder. As if now they shift from past to potential futures.

"I feel strange, Mom," Ruby says. "Like I can't think."

"I know, hun. It's..." Sam's voice sounds confused. "We are safe. Everything is okay. We are free now." Her voice changes to a dull tone, one that echoes eerily with some of the animals at that tea-wine party.

"Mom! Mom, what's wrong with you? What's wrong with everyone?" Ruby cries.

"Hush, we are all fine. We are all fine." Sam's tone is calm, unrelenting.

"Stop it!" Lena shouts. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want Sam and Ruby hurt. "Leave them alone!"

More whispers trickles through the black walls that enclose her in darkness. She stumbles over rocks she can't see, forced to feel her way forward.

"Alex? Alex, what's wrong with you?" Kara frantically says.

"Nothing is wrong, Kara. I feel wonderful." Alex's voice intones in that same dull tone Sam had. "I feel free. Unburdened. Don't you?"

"No, no." Horror sour Lena's stomach, and she stifles a sob. She has to get out of here. She begins to run, but she trips over an unseen boulder. "This isn't real!" She screams at the invisible voices, the black walls, the darkness that throttles her with despair. "Stop being a coward! Face me!"

Her words echo through the dark tunnel, and for a moment, the whispers stop.

Instead, the sound of something large being dragged starts up behind her. She turns and squints. A faint light pulses behind her, and with each pulse, she briefly sees the obsidian path light up. The road lifts up and rolls like paper.

She turns and runs away from the rolling ground. It squelches closer. She keeps tripping, the darkness pitch-black and makes her eyes ache.

"Kara, please," Lena whispers. She pushes off the ground after another fall. Her knees and hands are bloody, and her head throbs with pain. "Please, I'm sorry. I never wanted this..."

But did she? She made Non Nocere. She'd forced Eve to become her AI's body. She'd done horrors that rival Lex's.

Or was that all a dream too? Lena's not sure anymore. Her memories feel destabilized, like she's dropping backward in time, losing bits of herself the longer she's trapped in this nightmare.

This is all her fault, isn't it?

Everyone she loves is in danger, aren't they? Darkness smothers her, and steals the breath from her lungs. She chokes on her hubris, her foolishness, her horror.

Despair brings her to her knees, and she sways, ready for the horror behind her to pierce her chest. To end this torment finally.

"Lena..." a soft voice murmurs her name with a tenderness that Lena rarely heard. "Lena, luv, keep fighting. Keep moving. This is not your end."

That Irish accent -- it sounds almost like her birth mother. Or what Lena had imagined was her mother's voice. "Mom?" she gasps out. Pain sears through her wounds, and she struggles to her feet.

A wind brushes against her cheek from further up the path. A soft melody ripples along its currents.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you.)"

A glow of yellow appears up ahead. A woman who looks eerily like herself, but with softer cheekbones and jaw. She smiles, and it's a tender one. "Follow, luv. Don't look back. Come." As she moves, she sings the same song the wind whispers.

Lena stumbles to her feet. Behind her, the grinding of collapsing roads and boulders echo with a growing cacophony, but she doesn't look back. She pushes toward the glowing figure, who turns to walk steadily up the steepening road.

Up and up she climbs. The ground shakes under her feet. She falls against the obsidian wall, it's stone freezing cold. She jerks away and keeps moving.

A soft Irish lullaby serenades her ears from the figure ahead. The Irish Lena can't remember how to speak, but it soothes her despair, gives her courage to keep moving, to keep trying.

"Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…"

She tumbles out of the obsidian paths and onto a tundra studded with flowers. The sudden sunlight nearly blinds her, and she shields her eyes at first. As her eyes adjust, she lowers her hand.

"Mammy?" the Irish slang for mother falls from her lips, and she feels small and scared.

Her mother stands a few feet away and smiles at her. "You are okay, luv. You don't face this alone."

"Mammy," Lena stumbles toward her, the ground uneven. "Why am I here? I just want to go home."

"Luv, I wish I could take this pain from you, but I cannot." Her mother's smile turns sad, and her green eyes pierce through to Lena's soul. "To return home, you must defeat the darkness within. Let light fill you, luv. Don't look back. Do not give in to the temptations."

"Mammy...." Lena reaches for her, but her hand passes through her mother's arm. Tears cloud her vision. "Mammy, please..."

"I'm always with you, luv. Just close your eyes and listen to the wind sing." Her mother's ghostly hand tenderly touches her cheek. It's warm, far warmer than she expected. "Now go, luv. Save your the ones you love."

Lena closes her eyes and feels the warmth of her mother's hand, and that's when she hears it -- the wind sings the Irish Lullaby as it sweeps across the mossy rocks and flowers.

Oró mo leanbh beag Glac mo chomhairle cinnte Mo grá go sámh

(Oh my little babe Take my sure advice My peaceful love)."

Determination cements within, and Lena opens her eyes with a smile. Her mother has faded, but the gold of her form swirls along the wind and flows across the tundra toward the red-white tower.

The tower raises high above the mountainscape, and its windows glare with a darkness that oozes and crawls down its walls like streaks of mold.

Lena takes a deep breath and walks toward it. Behind her, she hears the crunch of boots. The swish of something slicing the air, and its screeching howls chills her bones.

She refuses to look back. Her pace quickens into a jog, but the one pursuing her persists.

"At least I won't die a fool," Lex's voice taunts her from behind. "You can't even see what's in front of you!"

"No." Lena starts to run. She's so close to the tower now. "I see clearly for once!"

"Fool. You think you act of your own volition? I seeded your project, planted and nurtured it, and it blooms. Oh, how it blooms. You are my final weapon, Lena."

Lena grits her teeth with a growl. "Not anymore, Lex!" She skids around a boulder. A whistling sound hurls toward her, and she ducks instinctively. A spear embeds itself in the stones ahead of her. She starts to dodge back and forth, to keep herself as harder target.

More spears whistle and shatter against boulders.

One nicks her shoulder when she fails to dodge in time. Pain blooms, and blood trickles from the wound. Still she refuses to look behind her.

Stay focused. Keep moving. Don't look behind her. That's what her mother told her.

So she keeps pushing forward. The tower leers down at her, and that silhouetted figure atop it stands at its turrets, their hands on the stone, and their body leaning outward to watch her. Black hair billows in the wind, but the face stays shrouded in shadow.

Distracted, a spear slices along her side, and she gasps with a stumble. Her hand presses against the cut, blood staining her pajamas.

She hears the whistling of a throw, and lurches to the left.

Another spear slices through the air just where her head had been. Laughter surges behind her as her assailant closes the distance between them.

She scrambles to her feet and rushes forward.

Ahead the doorway to the tower glows a blood-red, its doorknob white-hot. Steam rises from it.

Another spear slices through the fabric of her pajamas, barely missing her skin. Shit. She dodges to the left, then right.

"You can't escape destiny, Lena." Her brother cackles behind her, his voice loud. "We are Luthors. We destroy. We conquer. We are Power, and we will rule. Give in. Become us. Become our weapon."

"Never!" Lena throws herself at the door. It burns her hand, but she twists the knob and shoves her shoulder against the wood. "I'm not a full Luthor, Lex. I'm part Irish, and I won't forget my roots."

The door creaks and a gap appears. She ducks at another whistling sound, and a spear embeds in the wood above her head. Another crash of her shoulder against the door, and the gap widens just enough. She slithers through, and quickly slams it shut behind her.

Darkness greets her along with an all-encompassing silence.

No, not fully dark. She sees a sapphire and emerald lights at what appears to be the start of a spiral staircase. The light casts long shadows, and she sees bodies.

So many bodies, many of them distorted and twisted in on themselves. Like someone had turned them into living knots. They moan and groan in pain.

"Save us," they whisper.

She shivers.

These aren't all humans. Some are aliens.

Aliens that Lex tortured in Kasnia. Others who'd been trapped in the power plant, and still others who died by Medusa or Lex's Red Sun attack.

"I'm sorry," Lena whispers. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to touch one of them. Warm skin under her hand.

The alien looks at her with wide brown eyes. Their body untwists at her touch, and they breath in relief. The warmth drains into a deathly cold. "Thank you..." Their body stiffens in death.

Tears scalds her, but she walks the length of the room and touches each victim. Each one whispers a thank you and fades into death. She can't save them.

She was too late to save them.

The stairs loom, and when she looks up, she sees the coils of darkness that swirl just out of reach of the burning torches. The blue one burns brighter than the green.

That's the one Lena grabs. As her fingers curl around its metal base, she feels a surge of warmth and the soft, brief whisper of the Irish lullaby.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you)."

As she climbs, her torch spills blue light over her body and in a circle that is at least a foot in radii.

Beyond the light, the shadows seethe and howl like banshees. Faces loom in the walls, and as her torch light plays over their sunken features, she realizes they are yet more dead, more innocents tortured by Lex.

One she recognizes as the man who died during her Harun-el trials, the one who'd eagerly joined the trial in hopes of walking again.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, in pain. She hadn't meant for him to die. She'd been so sure it was safe enough for human trials. And yet, his face glares back at her. Judging her.

She looks away and climbs higher.

Whispers tug at her eardrums, but they make no sense, most gibberish, but others sound almost like past conversations she's had.

She hears her own voice speaking to Andrea, how she'd used Andrea to hurt Kara. Another memory surges of her speaking to Kara and Kara's mother, where she'd handed over the Harun-el and its recipe.

"Stop it!" she shouts. But the voices continue.

"Leave me! Save the chemicals!" she hears herself shout.

"No, never! Climb Lena, Climb!" Supergirl -- no Kara -- shouted back.

Tears dampen her cheeks. How many times had Kara saved her? How many times had she saved Kara?

Each step weighs her down, and she struggles to lift her feet for the next step. The torch sputters in her hand.

Each segment of memory haunts her, each shared moment a reminder of the bonds she has with Kara, Sam, Ruby, and Kara's friends.

She can't escape them.

She doesn't want to escape them.

She wants to go home.

"Home," her own voice growls. "There is no such thing. We can trust no one."

"No," Lena says, weakly. She's so, so tired. More and more steps await her, and the top of the spire looks impossibly far. More and more faces are etched in the walls, some trapped in a screaming pose.

"Yes, all we trust betrays. They will all pay."

"No." Lena says more firmly. "No, I will not fall for this." Her mother told her to keep going. To defeat the darkness within, and she refuses to let her mother down. She'll finish this even if it takes all of her strength and willpower.

She clenches her jaw and looks ahead at the gloom. Shadows dance at the edges of her light. Squelches and screams echo around her, and behind her, she hears the clomp of another set of feet.

Don't look back. She picks up her pace and raises her torch higher.

"Turn around. Around you turn. See the truth." The faint Irish accent sounds like her birth mother, but there's an odd echoing quality.

"No. I won't." Lena resists the urge to check.

The voice changes to Kara's sweet tones. "Lena, I'm here, just look back. I can help."

"Nice try, nope." Up another set of stairs, higher she holds the torch. Each step shakier, her legs trembling from the strain. Cold bites into her, and she shivers violently.

"Oh come on, Luthor, you can't do this alone. Let us help." It sounds like Alex and yet not.

"Hun, we're here. Just look back." This time it's Kelly.

Something stalks her, and hurls the voices of those she cares about like spears.

Lena resists and scrambles up a set of steps that are strewn with bones. Most don't look human, but instead are too long or too thick or too bird-like. Alien bones.

Cold air brushes across her skin, and laughter cackles around her. The footsteps grow closer.

Sweat dampens her roots, and she almost trips at the next step. Her torch flickers dangerously as it tumbles out of her hand, rolling to the edge of the step.

For a brief moment, darkness descends. Slimy tentacles curl over her body, around her throat and arms.

"Get away!" She leaps forward and snags the torch before it falls. The blue light flickers but steadies, and she desperately waves it back and forth.

The shadows hiss and dissipate into a sour smoke.

She shudders.

The footsteps behind her clomp just below her, and she hears the sound of creaking. She staggers to her feet and leaps up the steps. The thud of metal on stone echoes behind her.

Shit. She looks over the walls, but there's no other weapon. Only faces twisted in agony, the blue light of her flickering torch, and endless stairs.

"Fuck." She scrambles upward, frantically. The footsteps continue, each thrust of its weapon clanging against stone, her dodges barely in time.

That's when the whispers start up again. "Save us, please." The faces plead from their stone coffins. "Release us. Save us. Please"

"I'm trying." Lena scrambles up another set of stairs. Her muscles ache, and her head throbs. She's too slow in her dodge, and metal cuts along her leg.

She gasps at the burning pain.

No, she can't stop. She pushes forward.

"Avenge us. Release us." The chorus of dead surge in volume. She is deafened. She can no longer hear the sound of movement behind her, but still she races upward, dodging right and left to keep herself from being an easy target.

Pain seethes through her, and the shadows whip at the edges of her light.

A landing up ahead. Lena takes the steps two at a time and reaches it just as a spear embeds in the wall to her left. The face pierced screams.

She runs along the landing, toward a door ahead. Shadows screech around her. Tendrils dance into her light to pull at her hair and clothes. The blue light sears them, and with a scream, they retreat.

The metallic stomps sound like armor, and her pursuer persists.

Don't look back. She chants it to herself, but the urge to check grows with each dash forward. There's no places to hide here, and her light's circle has shrunk. More tendrils rip at her clothes and hair.

A monstrous body slithers into her light, no arms or eyes. Its legs propel it forward. Lena leaps away from it, but it squelches behind her to circle around and reappear on her left. She waves her torch at it, and embers fly off.

The creature screeches when the embers touch it. It slithers away.

Lena's feet hits against scattered stone. She nabs one, and when it slithers back, she hurls the rock at is faceless face. The rock sends it skidding into the wall. Lena snatches another and hurls two more for good measure. The creature lays motionless.

Breathing heavily, Lena picks up another rock and holds it like a knife. The door glows in front of her. With a running start, she slams herself against the door, and it swings open at her momentum.

She stumbles out of the stairwell and into a large room full of bookcases, red carpet, a piano, but dust coats it all. A sheet covers the piano and the sofa. The books smell of mildrew, many ruined, but a few glow softly.

Confused, she walks up to one and studies is spine. She can't make out any words. She reaches up to touch it, but a chill emits from the tome, it frosts her hand, burning with cold. She snatches her hand away.

The books and her torch are the only lights.

"Come now, Lena, don't slouch. Shoulders back, chin up." Lillian's voice emits from a different book.

"Honestly, you are hopeless. Did you think you'd ever amount to your brother's greatness?" The hiss of anger sears through her. She recoils from the bookcases.

But Lillian's voice stalks her. "You took my family from me. I never wanted you, but here we are. All that's left." Hatred mixed with love coats Lillian's words.

Lena freezes in the center of the room. Beyond the piano, she sees another door, this one metal and ornately carved with Luthor symbols.

"You're a Luthor, Lena. Act like one. It's time you take up the mantle. Become us."

"No..." Lena shakes her head.

A creaking of a rusted joint catches her attention. She looks to her right, and barely dodges the punch of a Lexosuit.

It twists and dives at her. She throws herself forward just in time. It crashes into another bookcase.

Green energy lights up its right arm, and the headless suit turns to point its cannon at her. She throws her rock, but it only harmlessly dents its side.

Lena dives behind the piano. The blast incinerates part of the bookcase. Her torch sputters. Dammit, low on fuel.

Clomps as the suit rounds the piano to face her again. She looks down the barrel of the cannon.

"Not this time," she growls. She shoves the torch into the cannon and sprints for the door. An explosion rocks the room, and she stumbles. Shards of metal cascade around her, several slicing into her arms and legs. One cuts her cheek.

She reaches the door and tugs it open with all her might.

Green-yellow light floods the room, and she steps onto the wide balcony at the top of the tower.

The figure with black hair stands with her back to her, her hands clasped at her back. "So you've made it," she says in Lena's voice.

Wind whips her hair around her face in a veil of black. It howls a despairing lullaby, one that sounds like her mother's but distorted by pain.

She's coated in bruises and cuts. She has no weapons, no torch, and the wind tugs at her ripped pajamas.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Lena lifts her chin and speaks with a confidence she doesn't feel.

"Don't you know?" The figure turns.

Lena takes a step backward in horror.

It's her face. The Other-Lena smiles, but it's a twisted grin, one born of malice.

"Ah, so you do recognize me. You are not as stupid as I assumed." The Other-Lena stalks toward her. Her clothes are hidden by the sheets of armor, pieces of a lexosuit forged into a more lithe and compact suit. Except for her right forearm, where a cannon sits attached, it's green pulsing along its wires.

"You're my darkness," Lena says.

"I am more than you could ever be," Other-Lena snarls. "I will finish what we started. No more pain. No more suffering. All will be at peace."

Lena shakes her head. "That's not possible. I see that now. Suffering can't be erased. But we can do better. We can make people's lives better without stealing their free will."

Other-Lena laughs. "Fool. You have nothing with which to defeat me." She stops a foot away and raises her right arm.

Exhaustion and pain coats Lena's body. She needs to dodge, to find a place to hide, to figure out how to fight back, but she's so tired.

The wind curls around her, and with it comes her mother's lullaby.

Codladh sámh, codladh sámh Codladh sámh a páiste mo chroí…

(Sleep peacefully, sleep peacefully Sleep peacefully, my sweet child…)

Warmth and love saturates her from the sweet melody. Her mother's love gives her strength, and she holds up her arm.

The green erupts from the cannon, but a yellow shield appears on Lena's arm and the blast sweeps around her, leaving her unharmed.

Other-Lena snarls and rushes her.

Lena holds her ground, her shield arm still upraised. A verse from the lullaby ripples again along the wind.

"Oró mo leanbh beag Glac mo chomhairle cinnte Mo grá go sámh.

(Oh my little babe Take my sure advice My peaceful love)."

Her Mammy's advice: Don't look back. Keep fighting. Lena raises her other hand, and a spear of light forms in her hand.

Other-Lena slices down with a sword pulled from her back. Lena blocks and pirouettes to the side for a lunge.

Other-Lena blocks with her arm and slices faster than Lena can dodge. The blade cuts into her skin, but she tears herself away. Blood drips down her shield arm.

Her vision splinters, and for a moment, there's two Other-Lena's. Both rush her in a flunge.

Lena brings up her shield. The crash pushes her backward, and she stumbles, pain along her arm. The shield flickers, a crack along its horizontal axis.

Again and again, Other-Lena beats her back with fencing moves so swift, that Lena can barely block in time. Her energy flags, and blood and sweat coats her pajamas and her hair.

She can't lose, but she's so tired.

Again the wind swirls around them, and the song starts up once more.

Oró mo leanbh beag Agus paidir ó mo chroí Tá do tsaol romhat

(Oh my little babe And a prayer from my heart For the life in front of you)."

Love pours from the lyrics and revitalizes Lena. This time, when Other-Lena attacks, Lena drops in a Passata Sotto, where she evades under the blade, one hand briefly on the ground, while she straightens her sword and plunges it forward.

It cuts deep into Other-Lena's side. Her adversary hisses and staggers backward.

Lena straightens and shifts her stance. The buzz of her mother's love tingles through her still. She's not alone in this.

She lunges, and her slice cuts into Other-Lena's shoulder. Her opponent growls and rips free. She stumbles backward, raises her sword, and dives into a remise.

Lena parries each attack, but the force of them forces her backward. She has no armor, and her wounds slow her far too much. She searches for an opening, but Other-Lena's suit seems to rejuvenate her.

She needs to destroy it's power source, but where is it? She parries yet again, but this time performs a second intention, where she first feints and provokes an attack. She glides through another parry and strikes at the opening on the left. Her sword slices between armor pieces, and this time blood flows from the wound.

Other-Lena jerks away and scrambles backward. "Foolish." She lifts her cannon. "You can't win this." The colors on the cannon had been faint, but it pulses brighter again.

It'd been recharging this entire time. Shit.

The blast slams into Lena and throws her hard against stone. She slides to the ground, dazed. Laughter assaults her eardrums, and her vision splinters again.

She needs to get up. She can't lose.

She can't lose.

But the pain throbs through her, and she struggles against the crushing fatigue. It'd be so easy to let go.

Other-Lena laughs again and stalks closer, her emerald eyes burning with a fury, her sword upraised, and her cannon slowly recharging.

The wind buffets them, whips their hair to the left.

Another voice swirls along the wind, but this time it's Kara's voice singing. This time one of Kara's favorites.

"I will take the fight, I will stay up all night I'm not running away Mun jearán áddjás Chain me to the wall They cannot break us all I'm not running away."

That's right. Lena pushes off the wall with a surge of Adrenalin. She's not running away. Not anymore. They can't break her or those she loves. No matter how many times they try to chain her down, to use her, she fights back.

She'll always fight back, but this time, she does so with love burning in her heart.

"No more will you haunt me," Lena says. "You cannot break me!" She charges with a shout.

The cannon glows again, but Lena sees the bulge along the belt. The battery pack, and the wires flow up along Other-Lena's side and into the arm cannon. She aims, and in a swift feint, she catches Other-Lena off guard.

Long enough to slice through the wires.

The cannon spins down.

Other-Lena howls as if in pain. Lena pushes forward and her sword cuts deep into Other-Lena's side.

She drops with a gasp. Darkness wafts off her form. Glassy emerald eyes regard Lena. "Kill me then," she taunts, her voice hoarse.

She thinks of her mother's words. She hadn't said "kill" but "defeat." And isn't darkness apart of everyone? Even Kara harbors it, she's seen that darkness.

But that doesn't mean she needs to let it rule her.

She drops to her knees in front of her dark self and brushes her hand against her cheek. "I don't need you anymore. It's over. I choose love."

Yellow light pierces through the clouds, and the storm breaks apart. It floods the top of the spire, and light shears through her dark self. Other-Lena shouts and evaporates into dark dust that swirls on the wind above Lena's head.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the dim figure of a man, standing atop the wall of the tower. He winks at her and vanishes in a puff of blue smoke.

She frowns, but she can't stand. The pain and exhaustion swamps all of Lena's senses. She falls forward and tumbles through the stone.

Down, down, down, until she hits a soft surface.

Her fingers curl into the fibers of a carpet. She struggles to push herself upright, but she's too weak. There's a door, a familiar door in front of her.

It's Kara's apartment door.

She grunts and pulls herself forward. Blood blinds her in one eye, and her head burns with pain. She raises her fist and knocks.

The door swings open.

At first silence greets her, but then she hears a gasp. "Lena! Oh no, Lena..." Kara's arms circle around her, pulls her against her chest. "Oh gosh, okay, gonna get you to Alex. Please, stay with me." Her voice shakes with a tender emotion, one that pulls at Lena's heart.

Her eyelids flutter, and she raises her hand to touch Kara's cheek. Blood cakes her hand still. "I chose love, Kara," Lena whispers, her voice hoarse. "It's going to be okay now."