#listen. I actually love cauliflower okay

[daisywords]

"low-fat" this, "low-cal" that, "oh use cauliflower rice instead," "zero carb zero fat zero meat zero dairy zero calories" how about stop taking the food out of my food. satiety is not that easy to achieve for some of us. blease I'm so hungry

[pbandjesse]

Great and excellent news!!! Crabcake is safe! He showed up this afternoon and I am just so happy that he is okay.

It really was the best end to a pretty bleh day. Me and James agreed that even when things were good it was always with the thought about Crabcake missing. It was a dark cloud. But he's back and he's safe and I'm very happy.

Today was kind of blah though. I slept really well and very deeply. And while I was tired when I woke up I felt a lot better.

I was sad that Crabcake hadn't shown up. But I tried to not feel sad. James made me a runny egg sandwich. Gave me a hug. And sent me to work.

It wasn't a bad drive. I am really enjoying listening to the Swindled podcast right now. And when I got to camp I continued to listen to it while I worked on setting up the printing table inside since it was going to be rainy today. It never rained hard but it drizzled throughout the day and was very grey and finally cool and everyone seemed so happy about that. I was feeling a lot better not being so hot.

The day would be pretty good. I wasn't as quick to get snippy. The kids were sweet. I wasn't worried about materials as much because it was the last day. And I was having fun talking to my coworkers and finishing the 5th ball of yarn for my blanket project. I was having a nice day.

I had a funny morning when a stockade boy walked passed and said "caliente...what does that mean?" And I said. Hot. And he goes "actually it means spicy" and I'm like. Okay same difference I guess. And he goes "actually a very different connotation" but caliente does mean hot! I double checked on Google! Why was this child gaslighting me?

And then not long after that Aaron just came up and said he was in my building last night and was like. "You gotta be careful there's a rat in your building." And I'm like. Why do you think that? And apparently the tarp in the corner was "rustling" and I'm like. Okay? Why do you think that it's a rat and not the mice or the snakes?? And he acted so shocked that there is a snake in my building and was like we should catch it for nature. And I'm like. No?? It controls the mouse population. Again why do you think it's a rat??? I was very confused at the jump.

But thankfully the girl groups were both lovely, though they struggled with listening when we were done and it was kind of frustrating to have someone blatantly do something and smile in your face when you tell them to stop. But then they left and it wasn't my problem anymore.

Lunch was fine. Chicken nuggets and pasta salad. There was cauliflower but I find that to sandy so I didn't get that. I would get frustrated by a conversation about which gas station has the best food and everyone was like Royal farm royal farms! And I'm like everything I've ever tried there has been horrible. And they are like well that's because your a vegetarian and can't get the chicken. And Im like. Okay? But everything else? Wawa is better. But I could feel myself getting to worked up and knew I had to go lay in the AC. I wasn't even hot but I wanted to be cooler.

I walked to our cabin and laid down for a half hour and it was perfect and I'm glad I have started doing this. I would have a snack and watch a video and lay my head down and felt much more human after.

My afternoon was good. All the kids were fun, and were really into the project and that felt good. I had some good conversations with the counselors and I was just really enjoying their company. Both the kids and the big kids (counselors).

Tipis would stay an extra half hour and they were very fun. We would make bead lizards and paint and they watched a video and were laughing and being good kids. Stockade would join us and it was just a good time. It really feels like the best of camp when tipis are there. They are always such a good crew. And I am glad they enjoy hanging out at arts and crafts.

I was happy to go home though. And after cleaning up and setting up for the next week (I covered the table is the cut out bears that gave me a crazy painful blister from cutting the fabric) (I joked to Noah "I bet you can't guess what we're making next week!!" And he made a whole like hemming and hawling but about not being sure of the mystery and we got all the kids in on it until one very literal child goes. "Bears!" And we go omg! He's right!! He solved it!! Just with so much real enthusiasm it was very funny.), and helping Kamal and Jeci find their tyedye shirts I would leave.

And it wasn't a bad drive. I would go to amazing glaze first. Got stuck in a little traffic. And went to get the pieces we made. I love my pond bowl and James turtle looked great. Our house numbers could be better but I am glad we did it. It was fun. Even if I had been having a very bad day at the time.

I drove home and would beat James by a couple minutes. No luck on Crabcake. But I held sweetp and was trying to be good.

James started the oven to cook a frozen pizza and I was going to go take a shower but I went over to Crabcake's tank and then!! He was there!! In his metal hide!! I was so happy to see him. I picked him up to touch our foreheads together. He has never escaped. He was buried deep deep under his water, if the tunnel is to be believed. How we did not find him digging in the box I do not know. I was right about him just sleeping his overheating emergency scare on Wednesday. But man was it scary and I am so so so relieved he's okay.

We got him food and I took a shower and washed hair. I do like my new shampoo but I for sure still need my hair products. Which was my mistake the other day. But we learn. And I feel very nice with my hair right now.

I would hang out on the couch with my husband and we had a nice night on the couch. James would leave me for a bit to replace all of our door knobs and they look so nice. Once the doors are painted properly I'll share. I'm very happy even if the lock mechanism doesn't work in our door. They still look great.

But now we are upstairs together. James made us fresh cookies (which came out huge and we had a very silly laugh about them.) and we shared those upstairs. But now I am very tired. It was a long day. And I am not feeling as burnt out but I am sleepy.

So it is time for bed. And tomorrow I will go to the market and then in the afternoon Jess is coming to get me to go to her coworkers party. I hope I feel good tomorrow. I hope you all feel good. I love you all. I hope you sleep great. Goodnight!!!

[gabianagrande]

7.5.24 - for a few weeks last year i carried around a tiny notebook to document my thoughts. here’s what i was thinking in may

SHOPPING LIST

- garlic powder and rosemary

- carton coffee

- meat of some sort (beef)

- smoked sausages

- cucumber

- grapes

- some berries

- rose water

- broccoli and cauliflower

- lettuce

-tomatoes

- plain tops

It’s 2:10 and im in uni parks. it’s a nice sunny day and ive been listening to Dua Lipa’s new album. It’s really good so far, im loving the disco renaissance. I had a chicken salad for lunch and i think I’ll have tomato and broccoli pasta for dinner. ive been thinking about the importance of health recently. Earring 3 square meals, drinking enough water, and getting enough sleep. Most often i see people talking about how being healthy will pay off in the distant future, how 70 year old me will be thankful for how 19 year old me treated my body but i prefer to think about how me tomorrow will be grateful. how i will wake up refreshed and happy. although, i think the weather is a better decider of how good my days are. the past few days ive been wilting in my bedroom, sleeping through the days and lying on my phone all night. i understand why some people think phones are demonic now. sometimes its like my face is being sucked into my phone screen and my soul or my will to live is following swiftly after it. but today i saw the sun shining, sliding into my room through a gap in the blinds and i shot out of bed then out of the house.

im thinking of turning off my phone location, its so invasive.

today in the park ive seen mothers playing with their children, a couple rolling around in the daisies, boys playing football (including reuben boo), cricket drills being run and friends walking together. for a second i felt sad being alone and watching but i actually feel quite happy. i see a boy alone meditating under a tree and another alone eating lunch. thoughts and music can be pretty good company. i wonder if any of these people know im watching or if any of them are watching me?

Its nice to imagine all of us alone coming together so sit and talk but i think its even nice that we can be alone besides each other on our separate journeys.

Why is one magpie for sorrow?

I hear some sort of loud airplane and i wonder if any of the passengers or the pilot are watching me? Hopefully not the pilot.

Okay i have to go now. I still have another lecture to watch and an essay to write boo.

[prcttylittlebirds]

openpassionates​:

VENUS WANTS TO be understanding as possible but discussing such a dark topic did feel a bit awkward for their date. all she can do is gently rub his face and occasionally give him feathery kisses. clearly, he’s been needing to talk to his brother about someone outside of a professional setting. “yeah, i love it but i’ve seen it so many times so i’m not missing out on anything by pausing the movie. we can still enjoy ourselves though. i don’t want you to be down in the dumps.” she smiles once rafael gives her a delicate kiss on the lips. she tries to maintain her happy demeanor but the calls are getting to her. clearly there was something wrong if someone was calling repetitively like that. “so what kind of pizza did you get me? did you answer that already? i’m a little out of it. but i guess we’re both a little distracted.” she hints towards him and how he’s trying to ignore the call. “i’m proud of you for opening up. i’m also proud of you for actually trying to watch the movie.” she teases toward the end, plastering another grin on her face before she gives him a quick kiss. 

“i’m okay, it was starting to get to me, but i’m okay. promise.” rafael assures her. the kisses that they shared always relaxes rafael. he’s been having such a good night so far, and he doesn’t want anything pulling his attention from her. he kisses her again. this time it’s not as gentle, and he lets it go on a little longer than the others. “don’t pause the movie, it’s getting good from what i saw.” he laughs, knowing he’s been half-watching the movie. still, he knows what’s going on, surprisingly. “i got you a veggie pizza, cauliflower crust. the cheese is daiya cheese i think, i know it’s vegan.” he knows that the more his phone buzzes, the more intrigued venus becomes. he’s almost tempted to tell her that his ex is calling, but that would open up the dreaded conversation that he needs to have. rafael knows avoiding the inevitable is stupid, but he doesn’t want venus to think the encounter with his ex was something he set out to do. “i’m gonna listen to the voicemail.” he pulls away from venus so that he can grab his phone. he listens to his ex tell him off, causing him to sigh. luckily, venus couldn’t hear what she was saying. the yelling was clear. he’s sure she heard that. “i’m in hell…” he mumbles. he knows venus will wonder what’s going on and he’ll have to tell her.

[olimpsia]

Guide Lysander episode 2

EDITED: I got the illustration. You need to answer all the right answers. (Lovometer 80. Also maybe the key are the neutral answers? Idk, I marked the ones I used that got me the illustration)

✅ = right answer

❌= bad answer

⚪️= neutral answer

Answers in blue are the one I choose

Dialogue 1:

Lysander:

I can give you a tour of the house after, if you want!

a. Actually, I already had a look around, yesterday, when I was looking for you. ✅ +5

b. Oh. No, you don’t have to. I already had a look around yesterday.

c. Of course, I’d like that! You’ll be able to show me all the places you got into trouble when you were little ⚪️

Dialogue 2:

Lysander:

I’ll admit, I miss it a bit. I don’t play anymore

A. I’ve never liked board games. They always end badly.

B. If you want, we can okay pop-up pirate tonight. I’ve never played. ✅ +5

C. If you have more natura game than pop/yo pirate, we can play…

Dialogue 3:

Lysander:

I’m not sure, there’s a moral to this story, bu I find it amusing.

A. I love listening to you tell your stories.✅ +5

B. I prefer the stories that take place around the table.

C. I think I preferred the kitchen stories. ❌

Dialogue 4

A. (I crouched down to place the piece of cauliflower on the ground)⚪️ (I choose this one when I gained the outdoors, picnic, illustration)

B. (I crouched down and held out the pice of cauliflower) ⚪️

C.(i trow the piece of cauliflower at him) ⚪️ (I choose this one when I gained the indoors illustration)

Dialogue 5.

Lysander:

I’ll fill the watering cans

A. (I took the piece of apple and walked towards the chickens) ⚪️

B. I’d prefer to stay with you. I don’t necessarily feel comfortable alone with the animals. ⚪️

C. (I took a piece of apple and walked towards the goat) ⚪️

Dialogue 6:

Lysander:

Generally for lunch, I just eat something quickly…

A. That’s okay. Well eat better tonight! (I think it’s ❌ -5)

B. No problem, this is great! I usually don’t eat much at lunch either. ⚪️

C. Are you kidding me? I’m going yo be able to taste your tapenade with bread, I’m thrilled! ✅ +5

Dialogue 7:

A. Do you think we still have a lot to do?

B. What do we have left to do this afternoon? ⚪️

C. We still have to feed the cows, right?⚪️

Dialogue 8

Lysander:

Well, there isn’t a particular technique. When you see an apple, you take it and put it in the bag.

A. I could be able to do that!⚪️

B. Would I pick them even if they are a bit bruised and have holes?⚪️

C. All of this? It’s going to take us days! ⚪️

——

After this, go away and come back, you will found Agatha next to a wheelbarrow full of apples.

——

Dialogue 9

Si, what do you think about life on the farm, after your first day?

A. I doubt that white nice. Exotic in any cases it’s Indy unpleasant. ⚪️

B. I really liked it! I feel… really good here✅ +5

C. I… let’s just say it’s not really my natural environment

Dialogue 10.

A. (I set my hand on the handle. He May have unlocked it since yesterday…)

B. (I’ll have to ask Lysander) ✅ +5

C. (Maybe the key is hidden somewhere… under the lamp, for example…?) ⚪️

Dialogue 11. HERE YOU CAN DECIDE WHICH ILLUSTRATION YOU WANT

Lysander:

Are you hungry? I’ll make us something to eat.

A. I’ll come with you, to help. (Lay down illustration)

B. No, i can wait… I want to hear more about what you write (indoors illustration)

Dialogue 12:

Lysander:

Obviously, I write a lot more that Castiel can sing, but at least those that correspond to him travel a little.

A. You don’t have to sing them, you can make a collection of poetry out of them ⚪️

B. Castiel didn’t offer you to continue with him? ⚪️ (but I liked this dialogue)

C. You don’t need anyone to sing the others, do you?⚪️

Dialogue 12.1 (they aren’t 100% right, I played this dialogue in the Spanish server)

Lysander:

Do you mind? Would you like me to buy some for you, tomorrow?

A. I think I’ll be able to last the week

B. No, don’t bother. I should consider it myself.

C. Yo be honest, I don’t eat it either. ⚪️

Dialogue 13:

Lysander: the last time we talked about it on the phone, you weren’t very sure…

A. I’m not even sure I’m going to keep going, if you have to be completely honest. ⚪️

B. ideally, if I want to do research, I’d have to go on to complete a doctorate.

C. I still don’t know. I like what I’m doing right now but…. ⚪️

Dialogue 14:

A. (I cuddle up against him to fall asleep in his arms.)✅ (I think this is +5, I now have 85)

B. Good night Lysander. Sweet dreams. ⚪️

C. (I don’t really feel like sleeping. I’m in the mood for something more… carnal) (I’m not sure, I didn’t checked the lov before replaying the episode, but candy gets frustrated because Lysander just wanted to sleep)

Okay I’m done, if someone knows if the other answers are neutral or negative, please tell me and I’ll edit it

[soursvgar]

Happy Birthday Solomon

Pairing: Solomon x gn! reader (+luke and simeon platonic appearances) word count: 1.4k genre: fluff (with slight angst)

"Sometimes we’re fractured by the choices we make; sometimes we’re shattered by things we would never have chosen. But our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing."

Definitely grey, leaning towards lilac, with a dark blue hue. And is that a spectacle of brown you discern?

You blink, trying to dissect Solomon's eye color while he's immersed in yet another advanced magic lesson. After a certain period of time spent in his proximity you conclude that more often than not, he didn't look that different from the demons around you. Are we sure he actually is a human, and didn't instead, cast some spell in order to bypass the RAD waiting list?

"Y/n, were you listening to me just now?" Solomon waves a hand in front of your face, your clueless facade not helping you unmask your case. "As I was saying... if you mix the red liquid with the transparent fluid over here, you will end with an unwanted chemical reaction. So make sure not to synthesize the two." He repeats his explanation, hoping this time you would catch it. "I can tell you're not on your best level of concentration today, y/n. Would you like to call it a day?"

Your apology is accompanied by a slight nod as you rush to head out. Truth is, you promised to hang out with Simeon and Luke and completely forgot about your mentoring appointment, that until Solomon ran into you on your way to town and reminded you of your educationary obligations.

"Sorry for my tardiness, I accidentally double booked. But I'm here now!" You announce, entering the spot you were scheduled to meet your celestial friends in. Both Luke and Simeon greet you with a warm smile, and a devilshake they had ordered in your name.

"You haven't missed a thing, we were waiting for you to discuss the plan for today." Simeon pulls out the chair for you to sit while Luke is taking several stationary items from his bag.

"What's today?" You respond with a puzzled look, mentally going over every seemingly important schedule you could remember. What could you have forgotten?

"Well, today is Solomon's birthday, we were mapping out the details for the celebratory dinner tonight."

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks. Today is Solomon's birthday, and you had just seen him and said nothing the entire time spent together, instead, you made a poor excuse so you can slip away because you failed to even recall your tutoring session. Your stomach turns with guilt, feeling genuinely awful.

"Oh, oh no..." You murmur, drawing a concern look from Simeon. "I completely forgot... I feel terrible. How can I make up for it? Do you guys have any idea what present will amend? I don't even know how many candles to get because he can't remember his own age!"

"Relax, y/n, it's okay! I'm sure he would love anything you will bring him. How about you make him a cake? Something from the human world, I assume he would really appreciate receiving human food made by an actual human." Simeon gently pats your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.

A homemade cake was not the worst idea, and while baking isn't exactly your forte, you are willing to walk the extra mile and at least try to create something edible. After all, it's the thought that counts, right?

Not too long after, you find yourself in the house of lamentation kitchen (after bribing a certain money grubbing demon to keep Beelzebub away, without, of course, filling him in on your actual pursuit.) with some recipes Luke generously donated for your cause. You casually flip through them while shuffling within your memories, working hard to recollect at least one thing that could help you surmise Solomon's possible cake preferences. The only idea you are able to come up with is that his favorite confectionery flavor would most likely turn out to be something bizarre like cauliflower- and, anchovy.

Eventually, you decide to take your chances with a strawberry shortcake that seems to turn out not entirely inadequate, you presume. Grabbing the piping bag, you carefully inscribe your message on top of the finished product to wrap it up.

"Well that certainly look delicious." The call from behind your back frightens you, causing you to completely blunder the last couple of letters. You turn around anxiously, already registering who the familiar voice belongs to.

"Solomon..." You gulp, admitting defeat as you step away from the counter, revealing the scene. You had a whole plan sorted out, starting from neatly tucking the cake into a decorative box and delivering it right before the celebratory dinner at purgatory hall, along with a heart warming birthday card. Solomon dropping by was not part of said plan, however.

"I was worried about you, y/n. You spaced out more than usual this morning, so I wanted to check everything is okay with you." He conveniently ignores the cake, the baking equipment and your guilt ridden stance, only smiling softly at you. "I'm sorry I made you smudge the name on the cake, who is this for? They sure are lucky."

"It-it's for you, Solomon. Isn't it your birthday today?" Perplexed, you inquire. As a matter of fact, if the man forgets how many years he had been existing on earth, it's not all that surprising for him to forget the date he started walking it as well.

"Ah..." he shoots you a look of astonishment, before he burst into a fit of laughter. "That's right, I guess it is my birthday. I've just realized that."

"Well, if I'm being sincere, I also had to be reminded. I'm sorry I haven't said anything earlier..." You nip down on your bottom lip, still full of remorse, despite the latter seeming exceptionally unaffected.

"Don't be." Solomon shakes his head at you in response, dismissing your blame. "Ah... how do I properly put that together in words?" Pausing in thought, he presses his index finger to his pair before he resumes. "I haven't been giving any special attention to my birthday, you see, as someone who existed through many decades, and have witnessed countless changes of the universe, I guess it slowly became a more and more insignificant cause of celebration. To be fair, spending my years among monsters, sorcerers, demons, angels, and other beings of some sorts- I've lost touch with my humanity for awhile now."

"Solomon..." Your face falls, starting to grasp the burden he must had been carrying for years.

"Don't make that face, y/n." His expression remains cheerful, contradicting his verbal speech. "What I was about to pick up on is that... today feels different from my other birthdays. For the past couple of centuries, I've been pacing aimlessly searching for knowledge. I figured that having a deep understanding of the world would grant me with a purpose of sort, or a legacy to leave behind, at least. However, things did not always occur the way I expected them to, or intended them to be. As time passed, I've gained a reputation, and not a good one, to say the least. Demons assumed I'm collecting them to gain power and control over them, witches didn't want me in their circles and regular humans simply were not sure how to decipher me." His gaze was now on you, making sure you follow as you quietly heed. "That is, until you came along, y/n."

"M-Me?" Your eyes widen, feeling the heat rising to color your cheeks with bright redness.

"Yes... you." He hesitates before proceeding as he catches a glimpse of your heated cheeks, causing his own to blemish with a rosy tint. "You only heard dubious rumors of me, I suppose. Yet, you decided to see for yourself and gave me a chance to debunk them. The more time spent in your company, I've started to once more feel it all- the blood pumping through my veins on its way to my face when your warm hand accidentally brush over mine, the comfort of a heart to heart revelation, and most importantly, the ability to be vulnerable without judgment, or fear of being taken advantage of. You've arisen all of those human emotions in me that I've considered forgotten, y/n."

Solomon paces towards you, placing a hand to your cheek, his digits softly caress over your skin as his eyes drown in your orbs. It really was a glint of brown you detected in them; you smile to yourself.

"And for that reason... as much as I appreciate the cake. The only thing I desire as a birthday gift, or wish, is to spend it with you." Craning his neck, he dips his head to your level and press his lips onto yours, using both hands to gently grasp your face between them as he deepens the kiss.

"Well, I've already made it, so... you can have both." You snicker, swiping the smeared part of what was supposed to be Solomon's name in frosting with your finger, then spread it over his mouth as you both laugh.

"Happy birthday, Solomon."

[abundanceofnots]

The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—

Well, whatever they are to each other.

Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.

“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tami smiles, undeterred.

“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.

“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”

Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”

His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.

“Yeah?”

“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”

Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.

There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.

His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.

“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.

“Why you’re scared.”

On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”

“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”

“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?

She responds with a sincere smile.

“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”

Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”

“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.

“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”

For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”

“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.

Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.

Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.

He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.

“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”

“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”

“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”

The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.

The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.

He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.

“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”

Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.

“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”

“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.

“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”

He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.

Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.

“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”

Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”

He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.

“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”

Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.

“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”

Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.

“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.

He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“

But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.

“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.

“Think I’m gonna puke.”

“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.

Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Well, at long last you get another chapter of Andy Barber and I’m just as impatient all y’all!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Masterlist

Andy's perfect suburban neighbourhood was enough to make you feel out of place. His house only added to that boiling insecurity as he pulled into the wide driveway. He kept his calm but taunting silence up as classic rock continued to blare from the radio, interrupted by jarring jingles and ridiculous radio jockey banter.

As he killed the engine, the sudden silence hit you like a wall. You opened the car door but found it hard to go much further. The door shut and you planted your hand against it. 

Andy startled you as he came up beside you, your suitcase rolling behind him as your large tote was slung over his shoulder. You made to grab the bag and he waved you away.

"Come on," He nodded to the house, "You said you were tired. I'll get you settled and you can rest."

You frowned but said nothing. You walked ahead of him around the front of his car and up the mosaic path that led to his front door. He fished around in his pocket and brushed against you as he reached to unlock the front door. He pushed it open and waited for you to enter.

The place looked straight out of a catalogue. White furniture!? Who in their right mind lived like this. It would be like living in a museum. You inched inside and stopped short in front of Andy as a photo of his wife and kid met you on the small side table just beside the couch. He barely kept from colliding with you.

He dropped your bag against the wall and let your suitcase go. He reached around you and took the picture. He cleared his throat and stepped away. You watched him through the wide archway that opened up on the other side of the staircase. You could barely see him as he went to the kitchen and shoved the frame in a drawer.

He returned, his eyes avoiding you and gathered up your bags. He edged past you, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to look back at you.

"Well, you coming?" He asked and started up the staircase.

You followed a few feet back as his footfalls echoed around you. He led you down the hallway and pulled closed a door as he passed. You glanced the posters on the wall and a seemingly interrupted scene still set up within. The snap of the clasp kept you going.

He turned back at the next doorway and sighed. He shrugged and nodded to it.

"I'm just across the hall," He said. "And you'll have... space."

His tone was sour and you didn't miss the tic in his jaw. He waited until you stepped ahead of him and opened the door yourself. He pushed your suitcase just inside and set your bag on the bed. A floral quilt was pulled across the top as similar flowers hung in oval frame along the wall.

"Never really had many guests," He said as he pushed back his jacket and gripped his hips. "Don't even know if anyone but me ever slept in here. You know, had a beer too many and... well, you take a nap and we'll talk when you get up."

"I can find somewhere else," You said.

"You won't," He insisted. "Not now. Talk later." He went to the door and grabbed the handle, pausing before he could pull it shut behind him. "I've got some work to finish up. I'll be in my office. Downstairs, just off the front room. Just by the Sox banner."

"Sure," You turned away in resignation. "I guess I'll find you."

A long exale came from him just before he slowly pulled the door closed. You listened for the click then hung your head. How did this man expect to start a new family when his old one still lived here? It didn't matter how many pictures he hid, he couldn't just push them out.

🌙

Once you laid down, it wasn't hard to fall asleep. The days had piled atop your eyelids and dragged you down into a heavy doze. You awoke on your side, your arm trapped beneath you and tingling. You groaned and sat up, your head ached with each move.

You yawned and looked out the window. It was dark. You rubbed your eyes and did your best to rouse yourself. The house was silent. You inched the door open and listened. You crept out and headed down the hall to the stairs. Again, you listened and heard nothing.

You descended and went to the kitchen. You found a tall glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. As you turned around, the rim just before your lips, you jumped at the shadow that appeared in the archway. 

Andy flicked the light on. He leaned on the wooden frame and crossed his arms. His button up was rolled up past his elbows and his hair was mussed as if he'd been running his fingers through it over and over. You choked on the water and steadied yourself.

"Hey," You coughed. "What's, uh, I was just... thirsty."

"It's fine. By all means," He uncrossed his arms and stood straight. 

He neared the end of the island that stood parallel to the sink. You set your glass down on it nervously. 

"I... just woke up. I thought maybe you were already... sleeping." You said. You were hoping, actually.

"No, not yet. You hungry?" He asked.

"Not really," You replied. "Thanks."

"You should eat. What did you have today?"

"I... um," You tried to think. You'd had half a club sandwich at the diner. "I had a sandwich and um, a cookie on the way home."

"That's hardly enough for two," He neared the corner of the island. "I'm not a bad cook. I could make you something. Or order something?"

"Really, it's fine--"

"It's not--" He raised his hand to calm himself. "It's not fine. You're carrying my child. You starve myself, you starve them. So... eat." He turned and opened the fridge. "I've got some hummus and veggies you can munch on and uh, thin crust pizza I can toss in."

He turned and set down a tupperware of celery, carrots, and cauliflower along with a container of hummus. He closed the fridge and opened the freezer with a puff of cool air. He took out a thin crust cheese and spinach pizza.

He went to the stove and held down the temperature button. He turned back and opened the box as he waited for the over to preheat. He took out the pizza and peeled away the plastic. He left it on the counter and came closer again. He pulled the lid off the tupperware and the smaller container.

"Eat," He said. "Is everything gonna be this difficult?"

You scowled and grabbed a carrot stick. You scooped up a glob of hummus and bit into with zeal, all the while staring him down. You smiled at him with mouth full and chewed.

"So, can we talk or are you going to continue to act like a child?" He asked.

"I don't know, are you going to keep acting like my dad," You huffed.

He blinked and shook his head.

"I'm open to compromise but if you're gonna be like this, I won't be so understanding," He hissed. "So sit," He pushed a tall stool towards you. "And eat."

"Yes, father," You climbed up on the stool and grabbed some celery.

"I always thought it was 'daddy'," He raised his brow. You scoffed at his bad joke.

The oven dinged and he shoved the pizza inside. He set the time and stood across the island from you. He put one hand on his hip as his other gripped the edge of the marble.

"Tomorrow, you make an appointment." He said.

"Sure," You picked out a piece of cauliflower. 

"And you can't keep working two jobs. You gotta drop one." He stated. "It's not good for you or the baby."

"You can't just make me give up my livelihood." You argued.

"Livelihood? How much do you think you make in a year? Probably no where close to twenty grand. I make at least five times. We can afford for you not to kill yourself--"

"'We'?!" You exclaimed. "Andy, there is no we."

He slapped the countertop suddenly and swore.

"Fuck's sake. You know for someone so damn helpless you sure do hate help!" He snarled. "It's like you want... you want this to go wrong. Everything has to go wrong so you can keep being the innocent little victim of your own life."

You recoiled and swallowed your mouthful. You threw the carrot stick in your hand at him. He batted it away easily.

"You don't fucking know me," You spat. "So don't you judge me."

"I know you fucked me in the toilet after about twenty minutes," He snickered.

You took the hummus and wipped it at him too. It splattered across his front and the container bounced across the counter.

"After three drinks, on top of several before," You snapped. "I don't have to explain myself to you." You got off the stool. "I don't want your fucking pity or whatever you're doing. I'm not going to be your little project."

You swept around the island but he caught your arm and pulled you back. The garlic from the hummus filled your nostrils and woke your hormonal hunger.

"Where are you going to go? You think I want you sleeping with my baby on the street?" He squeezed, hard. "And whatever you want to call it, my pity is better than the alternative."

"Let go," You wriggled in his grasp.

"You really wanna be a little bitch over a cafe gig?" He lowered his voice. "You walk out, I'll find you. I will not stop," He sneered. "You got it?"

"You're hurting me," You gritted through your teeth.

"Tomorrow you tender your resignation," He growled as his other hand came up to frame your chin. "Right?"

"Stop--"

"To-mor-row," He said decisively.

"Tomorrow," You uttered softly. "Okay?"

He smiled and nodded, slowly releasing you. He pulled loose his tie and slipped it over his head and unbuttoned his short. He slid it back down his shoulders and bared his chest. He approached the broad archway as he shed the shirt entirely. He stopped and turned to glance over his shoulder.

"I gotta clean myself up," He said. "I expect you to clean up the rest."

He left you and you squinted at the doorway. What an asshole. You took several deep breaths then took several sheets of papertowel from above the sink. You wiped the hummus from the counter and the floor and tossed the towel. You picked up the errant carrot stick as well and the oven beeped.

Everything about this kitchen was idyllic. It was the perfect suburban haven. The oven mitts, printed with an image of cheese and grapes, hung from the cupboard just beside the stacked ovens. You took them and pulled out the rack. You eased the pizza onto a plate and set it on the counter. You snapped the oven shut and turned it off after a brief struggle with the buttons.

Andy reappeared as you turned back, he wore a grey tee a some plaid pajama pants. Even in the bar, having done what you'd done, you'd never seen him without his suit. He was always the staunch lawyer man, even with a belly full of whiskey. Now he just looked like some guy.

"Two bulletpoints down," He said as he went to the drawer and searched for the pizza cutter. "I'd like to sort this out tonight. I have a long day tomorrow."

"Fine," You took the cutter from him and sliced the pizza into triangles. "What else can I do to appease you, your majesty?"

"For one, you will not be working beyond six months," He stated. "Can't risk it. Especially with those heavy trays."

"Six months? You know, they would accomodate me--"

"I'm a lawyer. You know how many workplaces are dragged into court for not accomodating employees?" He interjected.

"I'm a lawyer," You mimicked. "I get it. Six months."

"House rules," He raised his index, "Home before nine when you're not closing, but I'd prefer it if you stuck to day shifts," He instructed, "I'm pretty good about housework." He went tot he fridge and took down a notepad that had been pre-printed with a roster of chores. "We can switch off with dishes. I do laundry on Sundays but I take my dry-cleaning in on Friday. Sweeping and mopping, about once a week. I can take care of that if you can do a bit of dusting and tidying in the living room."

You stared at him. Was everything about his life so ordained? Well, surely not fucking a stranger ins a bar.

"I think I can clean up after myself," You sniffed. "Curfew, cleaning, good, got it."

"Right," He said gruffly, "And in regards to your care, you will inform me of all your appointments and medical concerns."

"Okay."

"And, I don't mind if you have friends over but let me know ahead of time," He continued. "No guys."

"What?" You chuckled dryly. "What are they gonna do? Knock me up again?"

"No guys," He snarled. "I mean it." You stared at him. You shook your head and he shoved the plate at you. "Eat."

You took a piece, the cheese stringy as it clung to the next. You bit into it and swallowed before you found your voice.

"Andy, this isn't-- we fucked in a bathroom," You muttered. "You can't think--"

"My house, my rules," He warned. "Now, you have your own room and freedom to anything inside this house. That's it. Fair trade. This isn't a negotiation."

"Fucking lawyer," You rolled your eyes. "You know, we get you in the diner all the time. You complain about the fucking food yet you're barely paying pocket change for a damn omelet then you don't even leave a tip. Write something on the receipt like 'resilience is more valuable than any bill'."

He laughed and ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Well, with an attitude like that, I can't imagine you ever getting stiffed..." He said. "...on a tip."

"Alright, I play by your stupid rules until this damn thing is out of me," You sneered. "That's it."

"Good girl," He smiled. "Now have a few more slices and you're free for the night."

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter two: i’m screwed

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 3.1K

A/N: you guys are? the? best? i’m so thrilled that you guys like the story and i hope you like this chapter, too.  i’d like to thank my emotional support llamas @ladyartemesia and @taetaewonderland for being the amazing people they are and beta reading for me, too. they really are the best.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

************************

“What’s with the muscle?”

Donghyuk looks over his menu, eyes narrowed on the man just behind you.  You sip your wine as you decide on how you want to answer that.

Jung Hoseok is seated at a table for one, barely three feet away.  If you thought spending the last four days with him under one roof had been the most awkward stretch of your entire life, then you were dead wrong.

Tonight is infinitely more awkward.  

“Personal security,” you say casually, picking up your menu to peruse the entrees for effect.

Donghyuk’s answering huff of agitation is loud -- probably loud enough for Hoseok to hear and your skin prickles with embarrassment.

“You need security to have dinner with me now?”

“Don’t be silly,” you say under your breath, hoping Donghyuk will take the hint and lower his voice.  “I’m getting some heat on the Kwon and Lim case, so it’s just a precaution. Nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” he deadpans, one skeptical eyebrow raised.  “I see you every day at work. How is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

“Must have slipped my mind,” you say with nonchalance, looking back to your menu.  

You should be deciding on something to eat but your mind is wandering.  You wonder if Hoseok has ever been to this restaurant before. You wonder if he purposely picked a table where he could see you but you couldn’t see him. You wonder what he plans to order.

You wonder --

“Well, you’re sending him home for the night, right?”

Your wine glass thumps against the linen tablecloth when you set it down with more force that you’d intended. A flush creeps up your neck.

How much of this conversation can Hoseok hear from his vantage point?  The thought makes the tips of your ears warm as you fix your dinner date and occasional hookup partner with a warning glare.   Smart as Donghyuk is -- with the law degree to prove it -- he can be downright thick sometimes.  

‘No,” you say quietly.

He narrows his eyes.

“No, you don’t want to? Or no, you can’t?”

You blow out one long, irritated breath.

“‘Hyuk, I’m about two seconds from walking out of here,” you hiss. “Can we just drop this?”

He stops just short of frowning, eyes sliding back over your shoulder to Hoseok.

“And for the love of God, quit staring at him.”

Donghyuk slams his menu shut.

**********************

Jung Hoseok is like a ghost in your home.

He moves with a practiced stealth that makes it hard for you to keep track of what room he’s in at any given time.  He’s awake when you wake and still awake when you head to your room at night.

You have no idea when the man sleeps or when he eats.

Conversations -- if you can call them that -- are stilted and awkward. Short discussions limited to working out the logistics of your day.  You tell him where you need to be and when and he makes it happen.  

Apart from that, there is silence -- thick and suffocating and constant.

In fact, Hoseok is so silent inside your home that when you’ve retreated to your opposite corners of the apartment you could almost pretend that things are normal.  You could almost pretend that you don’t have a complete stranger living in your home.

But then you catch a scent.

It’s the smell of coffee that greets you when you wake every morning to a freshly-brewed pot.

It’s the clean, masculine smell that wafts under his bedroom door, carried on humid air after he’s showered.

And sometimes it’s the scent of gun oil that creeps into your room at night when he’s cleaning his pistol, bringing back memories you’d thought were long lost.  Memories you’d hoped were long lost.

That’s the scent that always brings you back to your senses -- the one that reminds you that the man under your roof isn’t just any houseguest.  

He might not look like the battered thugs who worked for your father all those years, but underneath the designer suits and composed exterior is a man cut from the very same cloth.  

And you’d better not forget it.

***********************

The sunlight beating down on the window to your office this morning is deceptive.  

Behind the protection of the thick glass, it’s powerful enough to make you feel uncomfortably warm in your lightweight sweater -- but outside it’s bitter cold.

Hoseok is parked just across the street from your building, like he has been every day this week.  You can’t help but notice there isn’t any steam coming out of the exhaust of the sleek black sedan and you wonder if he’s warm enough in there.

“You busy?”

Hyejin interrupts your thoughts with a knock at your office door.  

“Not at all,” you sigh, turning to smile at her before taking a seat at your desk.  “I should be busy, I just seem to keep finding ways to put things off.”

“Tell me about it,” she laughs. “Listen, I was looking for the photos we got from the Daerim warehouse. I can’t find them in the file and thought maybe you pulled them for something.”

“No, I haven’t pulled them,” you say, lips pursing into a frown as your hands skate over the papers on your desk.  You flip the corners of the folders up, checking to see if the photos are hidden underneath.  “They’ve got to be here somewhere.  Maybe Hajoon took them?”

Hyejin nods. “Yeah, maybe.  I’ll check with him.  You alright this morning?”

Tense laughter bubbles up your chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just have a lot going on, is all. Let me know when you find those photos, okay?”

“Will do,” Hyejin promises before leaving you alone to your work and your thoughts.

Hyejin is probably the closest thing you have to a friend — but there’s no way you’d tell even her that your brother thinks someone is trying to kill you and you’re living with an armed guard.

That’s not a conversation you can have with anyone.

You grab a drink, straighten up your papers and get to work.

The raid at the Daerim warehouse turned up enough guns to arm the entire city.  Police spent hours unpacking weapons from giant crates, hidden inside huge sacks of coffee beans and offloaded from a ship that docked from Colombia.  The coffee was pretty decent, actually.

As for the guns -- you knew the Ssijog leadership was furious about the confiscation. In all, investigators estimated they took about 7 billion won worth of firearms out of that warehouse that day.  That’s the kind of financial hit that could level any criminal organization, including your brother’s.

What you can’t seem to understand is why the Ssijog seem more worried about the men taken away at that raid than the guns.

You take a close look at the side-by-side booking photos of Kwon Jiho and Lim Joowon.

These are the kind of men who look like the muscle your father kept around. Heavily-tattooed, thick-necked and ears cauliflowered from one too many fights.  Their criminal records read like street gangster templates, page after page of petty crimes starting in their youth graduating to more violent crimes in recent years.

Men like these are a dime a dozen in this line of work.  So what makes these two so special that the Ssijog are this desperate to get them back?

You pull a post-it note out of your drawer and grab a sharpie. In big block letters you write the question you have to answer before this situation really spirals out of control.

WHAT DO THEY KNOW?

****************************

Car rides are the only time you let yourself get a good look at Jung Hoseok.

When he’s driving, his eyes never leave the road, never stray in your direction -- and you refuse to make him feel like some kind of glorified chauffeur by riding in the backseat.  So you use the silent drives as an opportunity to steal glances at him from the passenger seat like a shy kid.

Hoseok has strangely elegant hands for a man with a career in crime, you think. Long fingers free of scratches and calluses; prominent veins that move when his hand works over the gear shift.  And then there is his face -- his chiseled jawline and sharp nose and bow-shaped mouth.

He’s handsome, of course, and you -- a woman with a pulse and perfectly-functioning eyesight -- would be lying if you tried to deny it.

Tonight you are so distracted with looking at Hoseok’s face that you miss the fact that he’s skipped the turn he normally takes to get back to your apartment.  It isn’t until you are well into the heart of downtown that you snap out of your stupor and take a look outside.

“Where are we going?”

“Your brother wants to see you.”

Your scowl is wasted on the man because he doesn’t bother to look your way.

“So is this how things work now? You and my brother decide where I go and when and I’m the last to know?”

Hoseok is unmoved by your obvious irritation.

“Just following orders,” he counters evenly. “You’ll need to take up any concerns you have about your schedule with Namjoon.”

“I’ll do that,” you murmur, turning to glare out the window.  

A short while later you’re walking into your brother’s office, Hoseok trailing closely behind.  Namjoon signals for him to leave the two of you alone to speak privately.  You round on him as soon as the door latches behind Hoseok.

“If you want me here,” you say tightly, “Then tell me. Directly. I don’t like finding out I have plans second-hand from my babysitter.”

The corners of Namjoon’s mouth lift into a wry smile.  “Good to see you too?”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile back. Your brother seems at ease tonight, lighter somehow.  It’s a good look on him.

“I want to know how things are going,” he says, leaning back into his chair. “How are you finding Jung Hoseok?”

Let’s see. Frigid? Intense? Unapproachable?

“He’s...quiet,” you say after a long moment.  “And maybe unnecessary at this point. I haven’t had any more trouble since that letter.”

“I assure you, he’s still very necessary,” Namjoon returns quickly.  “We’ve still got a lot to work out as far as this situation goes. My guys on the street say the Ssijog are in planning mode. I don’t want any of them catching us unaware with some kind of nasty surprise.”

You sigh.  “So no end in sight.”

“Not right now. Just bear with this a bit longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your buzzing phone.

Your mouth pulls into a tight line when you read the waiting message.

hyejin: can’t find the pictures. hajoon doesn’t have [ 6:15 PM ]

you: ? i have backup on my laptop [ 6:17 PM ]

hyejin: okay need to make sure we have those tonight? [ 6:18 PM ]

you: yeah, i’ll call you from my place when i get them [ 6:18 PM ]

“Everything alright?” Namjoon asks when you rub your fingers against your temples.

“Yeah, just work stuff,” you sigh, a low-level anxiety simmering in your stomach. “I actually have to go, unless there’s something else you needed?”

“No, just—“ your brother looks like there’s something he wants to say, but decides against it.  “— just be careful, okay?”

You nod and send him a small smile.

“I’ll try.”

You’re almost to the door when you hear him call out to you again.

“And Amsaja -- with Hoseok.  Try being nice.”

He nearly laughs at the disgusted look you shoot back.

*****************************

HOSEOK

Hoseok’s got a pretty good idea of what a prosecutor makes in this town, and it’s damned sure not enough to pay for your lifestyle.

Your spacious apartment in one of the best buildings in town, your expensive furnishings, your fancy car and your designer clothes.  Hoseok has done the math in his head and that shit does not add up.

You’re a hypocrite, he decides -- too good to associate yourself with the trash that brings money in for the Gajog, but apparently not too good to spend it.  Living comfortably on the backs of men you wouldn’t acknowledge in the streets.

Men like him.

Hoseok wishes that didn’t get under his skin the way it does.  

He wishes he didn’t feel resentment simmering under the surface every time he sees you, every time he even thinks of you.  You keep to yourself and you don’t make demands and you haven’t really given him a reason to dislike you, but he desperately wants to.  

He needs to.

He wishes he truly didn’t give a shit about the idiot you had dinner with the other day.  The one straight off the assembly line of some prep school in the Seocho District.  The one with the loud mouth and the loafers and the country-club grin.  He wonders what you see in that guy, when all he can see is how punchable his face looks.

That’s why Hoseok doesn’t give too much weight to the furtive looks he can see you stealing in his peripheral vision.  He doesn’t put too much stock in the way your cheeks color when he looks at you sometimes.  He has to remind himself that underneath the polite distance and pretty packaging, you’re just desperate to be done with this entire situation.  You’re desperate to distance yourself from him and people like him.  

When he finds himself staring at you when you’re not looking, Hoseok forces himself to remember that men like him don’t warm your bed, they pay your bills.

And he’d better not forget it.

**************************

Hoseok can read the agitation in your body language loud and clear the second you slide back into the car.

He can see the way you keep scrolling through your phone, firing off texts and emails from the passenger seat. Tonight, you stare out of the window instead of pretending not to stare at him and he wonders what happened behind closed doors with your brother.

He almost lets it go because it’s none of his business. But he’s curious.

“Are you...upset about something?”

You seem to startle when he asks the simple question.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of,” you admit quietly, eyes falling back to your phone. “Work stuff.  I have to find something when we get home.”

Hoseok nods, eyes glued to the road.  “We’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks,” you say, turning to look out the window again.

Minutes later, you’re both walking into the apartment.  Hoseok turns to secure the deadbolt lock and when he turns back, you’re gone.  He hears the room to your bedroom click closed.  

He briefly entertains the idea of asking you if you need help, but resists.

Instead he sweeps the open rooms of the apartment like he does every night before heading into his room and closing the door.

************************

The knock that comes almost two hours later is just short of aggressive.  Hoseok jumps up off the bed, ready in the case of trouble.

He does not miss the way your eyes go a bit wide when he opens the door, dressed in a thin tank and sweatpants.

“You need something?” he asks when you don’t say anything right away.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” you say with a shake of your head. “I’ve just never seen you in anything but a suit.  For a second I wasn’t sure you were the same man.”

“You think I sleep in a suit?”

“Well I wouldn’t put it past you,” you say hotly.  “But that’s not the point. I need you to take me to the office. Please.”

Hoseok glances at his watch.

“Now?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “I know it’s late and I’m sorry. This is super important.”

“Alright, hang on,” Hoseok says, turning to grab his holster from the dresser.  He slips into it and notices your gaze lingering on the pistol he fits onto his side.  You clear your throat and look down at the floor while he slips a sweatshirt overhead.

“It’s just a precaution, okay?”

Hoseok doesn’t know why he’s bothering to reassure you.  You know that he’s armed all the time, you grew up in this life.  None of this should surprise you.

You say nothing.

It takes only ten minutes to get across town to your office, in the dead of night and in the absence of traffic.  You look almost as irritated as you are surprised when Hoseok climbs out of the car to escort you inside.

“You’re coming in?”

“Yes,” Hoseok fires back, keeping pace just behind you.  “It’s well after hours. No one will see us together, since that’s what you’re so worried about.”

You stop for a moment, turning to face him and mouth opening like you want to deny it.  But you don’t.  

“Fine,” you say under your breath. “Please avoid looking at the cameras.”

“I know how to do my job,” Hoseok manages between gritted teeth.  

“I never said you didn’t,” you hiss back.

The two of you stand just outside the entrance to the building, trading glares.  

The tension feels like a step backward somehow.

One strained elevator ride later, Hoseok trails you into your office.  You flip the lights and immediately get to work going through file cabinets.  Hoseok takes a look around.

It’s not a huge space, but the large windows looking out onto the street make it look a little bigger.  Piles of file folders and papers are sorted into neat columns on your desk.  A desk, Hoseok notes -- completely devoid of personal effects.  No pictures, no mementos.  He doesn’t know why that bothers him so much.

“Shit.”

It’s the first word either one of you has spoken in five minutes.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Hoseok turns to find you on your knees at the base of a filing cabinet, a pile of flash drives scattered across the floor.

“What is it?” he asks, crouching down beside you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, covering your face with your hands.  

Hoseok picks up a flash drive, turns it to the side to read the small label.  It’s dated three years back, with the name “Cheon” written on the side.

“All of my digital evidence is gone. All of it,” you whisper, voice wobbling with emotion.  “I was searching the cloud at home and thought there was some kind of mistake. There’s no way this is a mistake. There’s no way my cloud and flash backups disappeared by chance.”

You’re right, of course, but Hoseok doesn’t voice that out loud.  You look stricken already without him pouring salt in that wound.

“What about these?” he asks, handing you the flash drive.  

“Old cases,” you say, shoving a hand through your hair.  “They didn’t bother to pull my old cases. Whoever took them knew exactly what they were looking for.”

Hoseok almost forgets himself for a moment.  

He nearly forgets who you are and who he is and what this is. He stops himself just short of reaching out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder.  

You turn tired eyes up to meet his.

“I’m screwed.”

**************************

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan​ @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy

[ladyblogger-margie]

Boys BBQ

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x M!Reader

Summary: Will takes you to a BBQ to introduce you to his friends. 

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: 18+ Only (anal sex, handjobs, unprotected sex)

a/n: I saw someone observe that there aren't many M!Reader stories, so I thought I’d do my best to contribute to the void! It’s my first time writing M!Reader, so, I just tried my best. Everyone deserves to be taken care of by our beloved Mr Miller. Plus all my comfort characters are bisexual. 

You hovered over Will as he pumped your hard, well lubed cock in his hand a couple times before lining you up at his entrance. 

“You ready for me, baby?” you asked him as he looked up at you, his pupils blown wide. 

“Hell yes, I want you to fuck me,” he ordered you. 

You pushed inside him slowly. You’d already worked him over well with your fingers, but you wanted to be gentle with him. Will had suffered so much for so long, you never wanted him to suffer with you. 

He on the other hand, didn’t seem as concerned. He wrapped his legs around you tightly and gripped your bicep, urging you on. You pumped into him, your hands firm on the bed framing his face between your arms. He turned his head and kissed the tender flesh of your inner forearm. You slammed into him hard and he squeezed his eyes closed, relishing the impact. His tender kiss turned into a bite and it sent a shiver through your body. 

You brought one hand to his cock and stroked it in time with your thrusts. Both of you were breathing hard and you were starting to lose control of your pace as you climbed closer and closer to your release, your movements were erratic as he propped himself up to his forearms to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you,” he said, and the shock of it had you coming hot and thick inside him. Your grip on his long, thick shaft grew tighter as you shuddered through your release. He had never said that to you before, and you hadn’t said it either.

You were silent, catching your breath as you pulled him off until he came hot and sticky across his own stomach and chest. You pulled out of him gently, slowly and leaned over his perfect, but scarred, body and licked his cum clean off his defined abs. Your legs were shaky as you helped him clean up, still not saying anything. 

When he was taken care of and cleaned up, you flopped over on the bed next to him. He said he loved you when you were balls deep inside of him, he probably didn’t mean it, right?

“I know what you’re doing,” Will said from beside you. He too was on his back staring straight up at the ceiling of your bedroom. 

“Oh, do you?” you quipped sarcastically. 

“Yes, I do. You’re overthinking this. You think I didn’t mean it when I said I loved you,” Will said, rolling over to look at you with his head propped up on his palm. 

“Maybe,” was all you admitted despite the thoughts racing around your head. You furrowed your brow, he was really good at reading you and had demonstrated that fact since you started dating almost 3 months ago. But there was still so much about him and his life you didn’t know, and while you thought you loved him back, could you ever really love someone you didn’t really know?

“You don’t have to say it back,” Will said, “But I just wanted you to know where I stand.”

Then he pulled you into his side with your head on his chest. You curled into him, unable to resist the comfort of his embrace. You ran your fingers gently over the exposed skin of his body, mindlessly running over the scars on his body, especially the particularly gruesome one on the left side of his abdomen. He said he got it last year, but would never elaborate when you asked. 

“I can’t sleep with you thinking that loud,” Will said with his eyes still closed. 

“I’m just thinking about how I don’t actually know you that well,” you explained. 

“I think you know me pretty well,” Will shrugged. 

“I’ve never met your friends even though you’ve met mine, and I don’t even know if they know I exist,” you blurted out. 

Will tilted your head up and kept a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him, “You know me better than most, but you’re right, I think it’s time you meet my friends.”

The next Saturday you sat shotgun in Will’s truck on the way to his friend Frankie’s house for a barbeque. You were excited to meet his friends until a terrifying thought flashed in your mind. 

“They know I’m a man, right?” you asked. 

Will smiled that endearing half smile that had your knees weak when he answered, “Yes, they know you’re a man.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, but your relief didn’t last when you had a brand new horrifying thought, “They know we’re dating, right?”

Will squeezed your knee, “Yes, I came out to them years ago, they know I’m bisexual and currently dating a man.”

You sighed deep, “Oh thank god, I wasn’t prepared for some big ordeal.”

He chuckled, “Oh it’s going to be an ordeal alright, I haven’t introduced them to anyone since my fiance, so they are going to be insufferable.”

“No pressure,” you tried to look calm but he saw through you completely. 

“I’m teasing. They’re my family, they just want to make sure I’m okay,” he explained, “But I promise they’re good people.”

You tapped your foot rapidly, an unconscious nervous tick, as you nodded, “Like I said, no pressure.”

Will took his hand from your knee and grabbed your hand instead. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.

“They’ll love you,” he promised as he parked in front of a simple house with a well-loved garden out front. 

You weren’t sure if you should hold his hand or not in front of his friends so you elected to carry the case of beer between you two, removing the possibility from the equation, all the while knowing you were overthinking everything as usual. 

Will knocked on the door and a beautiful woman with a toddler in her arms opened the door.

“Will! It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long,” she said, kissing his cheek before she turned to you.

“You must be the one Will’s been spending all his time with,” she said, stretching her hand out to you, “I’m Frankie’s wife, Anna.”

You shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you said, “We brought beer, is there somewhere you’d like me to put it?”

“Will knows where the beer fridge is, give it to him and I’ll bring you out back to meet the others,” she turned on her heel and something about her had you Will following her exact instructions without question. 

Will gave you a scratchy kiss in the cheek and a squeeze on the arm before he took the beer from your hand. You darted off behind Anna, barely keeping up as she balanced the toddler and a tray of vegetables through the house.

“Can I take the tray?” you offered and she thrust it into your hand.

“Thanks, honey,” she said, pulling open the door to the backyard and leading you through to where you could hear music playing and smell the barbecue cooking. 

The man behind the barbecue stepped away to meet you at the back door, “Frankie,” he said as he shook your hand and you introduced yourself. 

Frankie pulled you in the backyard and directed you to an open lawn chair, taking the tray from your hands. Sitting around an unlit fire pit were two very attractive men who you assumed must be Pope and Will’s brother Benny. 

Frankie introduced you to them and they both nodded as you took a seat. 

“It’s good to meet you, man,” Benny said and he passed you a beer from the cooler beside him.

“You too, Will talks about you a lot, but you’re not how I pictured you,” you said. 

“Better looking in person, huh?” Benny asked, confident. 

“Well Will’s told me how many fights you’ve lost recently, I thought you’d be uglier for sure, and definitely sporting some fucked up cauliflower ears,” you explained.

Pope and Frankie laughed and Benny let it roll off of him, “Didn't you hear him,” he said,” He says I’m hotter than he expected.”

That only made Pope and Frankie laugh harder and roll their eyes. 

Just then Will came out to the backyard and pulled up a chair next to you.

“I hope Benny isn’t giving you a hard time,” Will said.

“Actually, he’s putting Benny in his place,” Pope explained and winked at you.

You liked Will’s family very much. It wasn’t long until Frankie was laying out a huge stack of burgers on the table and you all dove in. Though of course you waited for Frankie to get his daughter Carmen sorted out first. But once she was settled out of harm's way, all bets were off at the buffet.

You spent most of the evening just listening to them all share stories and crack jokes. You poked fun at Will by telling them that he loves the live-action Beauty and the Beast movie, but you held back the part of how you saw him shed a tear near the end. That part was just for you. 

Frankie and Anna built a fire in the pit and as he set it alight, Frankie stepped back and said, “No cold-camping tonight, boys,” though he looked like he regretted his words. 

An icy chill fell over the group despite the heat from the new fire. You watched as the firelight danced across Will’s sad face. You reached out slowly and clasped Will’s hand in your own. 

Pope smiled when he saw you hold Will’s hand, and his smile set a chain reaction through the other guys who followed suit. Will turned to you when he smiled, his sad eyes full of love and gratitude. 

Benny was the only one who didn’t smile. Instead he rocked back in his chair, his arms tight across his chest. 

“You good, Benny?” Will asked, his voice soft but steady. 

Benny cleared his throat, “I’m going to refill the cooler.”

Benny stood and carried the cooler with him back into the house. 

Luckily Carmen breaks the silence by showing a picture she had been colouring to Pope. 

“Look!” she showed off her hard work by shoving it into Pope’s lap. 

Pope picked it up with a smile, “It’s beautiful!” he turned it around to show everyone else, “Isn’t this great?”

You and the others all clapped and Carmen beamed. When Pope tried to tuck the picture away in his coat, Carmen pulled it back with a, “Hey! You can’t keep that, I was just showing you!”

Everyone laughed and Benny returned and passed out the next round to everyone. 

You watched Will watch Benny and knew there was something going on you didn’t understand, and weren’t sure if you were supposed to say anything or not. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked Maria and she gave you simple instructions so you excused yourself inside to collect your thoughts and empty your bladder. 

When you exited the bathroom, Will was leaning against the wall waiting for you. He pulled you into his embrace, one hand on your face, the other sneaking around to palm your ass. 

“I know you must have questions,” Will said. 

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” you said, “Today was about meeting your friends, and I gotta say, I really like them.”

You kissed Will quickly, but before you could pull away he deepened the kiss, pulling you close to him softly but purposefully. 

You heard the laughter from outside and broke the kiss with a sigh. 

“We should go back, I don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence,” you said, holding Will’s hand. 

“They already told me they like you,” Will said with his classic half smile. 

“Well good, because I -” you paused and took Will’s face in your hands, “I love you.”

Will smiled large, the lines around his eyes crinkled, “I love you too.”

Then you kissed him, softly at first, but building as he splayed his palm flat on your back and you pushed his back up against the wall, your hands on his waist. You felt his cock grow hard against your leg and you knew he could feel yours too. 

You jumped back when you heard the backdoor open, your face warm. Will kissed you soft on the cheek, his beard scratching against your own stubble, before he led you to the sound where you found Benny carrying Carmen by the ankles upside down. 

“This munchkin wants s’mores, so we’re on a supply run,” Benny explained as Carmen giggled hysterically. 

“You handle her, we’ll grab supplies,” you offered as you and Will followed Benny and the still laughing Carmen into the kitchen. 

As you gathered supplies Benny looked over to you, “I’ve got a fight next weekend out of town, you’re coming, right?”

Will stepped in before you could answer, “I hadn’t asked him yet.”

“Well I was inviting him, I like him better than you,” Benny said to Will. 

“I’ll be there!” you said, unable to contain your smile. 

Benny nodded and swung Carmen around as he made his way back outside. 

You turned to Will, “I guess that means I’m in?”

“For as long as you want to be here, want me, you’re welcome,” Will said sincerely. 

“Good, I love you, and I love your friends. I think I’ll stay,” you said, and you and Will carried the s'mores supplies outside and your heart felt more full tonight than it had ever felt before. 

[elvis-facts-daily]

Okay, you all asked for it. As an Elvis fan, here's my top ten tips for enjoying elvis

1. When listening to Elvis, turn the volume up. HIS VOICE WAS LOUD IN REAL LIFE.

2. Recording companies repeatedly tried to pair him with female singers. These were rarely successful and are not considered real Elvis recordings. When listening to these tracks, chant "Elvis-only" repeatedly in your head.

3. Children cannot hear Elvis' name or they'll get cauliflower ear.

4. If you're in a music store and you find an album called "Elvis Sings For Children," do not be fooled. Despite the title, this is not a collection of songs for children. This album actually contains subliminal messages designed to turn the listener into a slave for The Man. The first track is nearly impossible to understand, but is actually an appeal to join some kind of cult. Once you hear it, The Man will never let you leave. Call 1-800-555-ELVIS to report a sighting of this album.

5. Elvis had a twin brother who died at birth. His name was Garon (pronounced "Gah-run"). To honor him, say "Garon" after every sentence when talking about Elvis. Ex.: "Elvis ate too much fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Garon."

6. Don't discuss or ask about the "cursed" or "mysterious" deaths that surround him. You will look foolish because there was nothing mysterious about them and they aren't even that many. He outlived every one of his peers. Get over it.

7. Don't let anyone talk you out of your adoration for the "King", no matter what. To quote Zappa's commentary to his song "I love Elvis": "Regarded by these cynical so-called music experts as an example of the recording industry's ability to brainwash the American youth, Presley appeals to the hopeless and wretched denizens of misery... The worst thing that can happen if you're a devoted Elvis fan is that you might wind up working in a gas station, living alone and dying forgotten in a trailer house. That's it! Merely the worst thing that CAN happen!"

8. When you argue that Elvis is the greatest popular music artist of the twentieth century, your comments will usually produce one of three equally absurd counterclaims: (a) The Beatles; (b) Jay-Z; or (c) Johnny Cash

To respond to (a), swear and make a dismissive gesture because The Beatles had weak singing and played instruments horribly. To respond to (b), snort indignantly because, while Mr. Carter can jump around a lot and has lots of fun, he's not the King of Rock and Roll and obviously didn't even try to carry a tune. To respond to (c), make fun of anyone who tries to insinuate that performing for convicts means more than entertaining real, live enthusiastic crowds of music fans.

8. Look up The Simpsons Funniest Clips on youtube.com

9. In general, foaming at the mouth is a positive thing. Frothing at the mouth and being able to gently blow bubbles is very good. Being able to gently blow bubbles through a straw is sublime.

10. Pray to God that you don't end up like him.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Four

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. 

(Fluffy part....and I will give a bit of a trigger warning here, y/n mentions abuse from an ex. This is sort of a short part, I part five is long and I promise it delivers on the smut. )

Part One Part Two Part Three

You left work a little early Wednesday. You had been marinating your cauliflower since the morning. But you wanted to make everything perfect for Harry. You put a table cloth over your small table, and added a single candle. You plated up your buffalo cauliflower. You spooned some blue cheese into a small bowl. You knew he wouldn’t eat it, but you needed it for yourself. You also put out some celery and carrots. You put a bottle of voka and some tonic out. Drinking on a work night wasn’t something you did often, but you knew vodka wouldn’t leave you with a hangover. He texts you letting you know he’s downstairs. You buzz him in and open your door.

“Love?” You hear him say.

“In the kitchen!” You yelp. He walks in. He’s wearing those black ripped jeans again. You can slightly see his thigh tattoo. The black t-shirt he’s wearing is slightly tattered too. You notice he took his boots off at the door.

He comes right up to you, and takes you in for a hug, he simply hold you for a few moments, and sighs happily.

“Y’alright?”

“Yeah, just a long day. Sorry for my appearance, I didn’t want to be late, and stupid me forgot to pack extra clothes.”

“You look fine. Sit, dinner’s ready.” You smile. He sits down at the table, and you hand him a serving utensil so he can take as much as he wants.

“This smells great, (y/n).”

“Thanks, it’s my own sauce recipe. It’s vegan, but the blue cheese isn’t.” You laugh.

“No worries, I don’t need it anyways.” He pops a smaller piece of cauliflower into his mouth, and nearly chokes. “Holy shit, this is spicy. Well done.” He takes a sip of the glass of water you left for him. You both decide you don’t need the alcohol tonight. You’re secretly thankful.

“I had some extra strawberries, no chocolate though.” You say after finishing dinner, bringing a bowl of strawberries to the table.

“Oh, thanks. Another thing I forgot about, bringing dessert.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” You look over at your couch. “Come on, let’s go sit down and get comfy, and you can tell me about your day.”

He grabs the bowl of strawberries and places it on your coffee table. Before you sit he grabs your wrist.

“Would it be alright if we, like, cuddled?” He looks at you with tired eyes.

“Of course.” Your heart flutters.

He lays on the couch, resting up against the pillow on the end near the armrest. You place your body on his, and he runs his hand across your back. He lets out another happy sigh.

“So how was your day?”

“Stressful.”

“I gathered. What happened?”

“Just these people I was working with, they didn’t understand my vision, and we kept fighting. It took nearly three hours to get two decent shots. Finally, they understood where I was going with it and let me do my thing. It was exhausting.”

“I’m sorry.” You nuzzled into his chest. You felt like you could fall asleep. Before you knew it, you heard light snores. You looked up and saw Harry’s eyes closed, and lips parted. You smiled at the beautiful site. You soon drifted off as well.

“Oh shit.” You awake to him rustling underneath you.

“Mm, what time is it?” You press into his chest.

“Only around eight-thirty. We slept for like two hours.”

“Must’ve needed it.”

“Love, I hate to move you, but I desperately need a wee.”

“Oh!” You immediately get off him. He goes down the hall to the half bath. You go use your bathroom as well.

He gets back to the couch first. Confused that you’re not there, but realized you probably needed a wee as well. He smiles at you as you come sauntering back in. You sit down next to him, and you both put your feet on the coffee table, his hanging over the other side. He really is tall. You grab the remote and turn the TV on. He puts an arm around you, and snuggle into him.

“Right, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Chopped?”

“Love it.” You smile, beaming up at him. You stretched your neck out and winced. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just think there’s a little kink in my neck from how we fell asleep is all.”

“Damn, that’s my fault. Want me t’rub it?”

“That would be great.”

You two adjust yourselves so he has his back against the arm rest, and you sitting between his long legs. His soft touch feels amazing on your neck and shoulders. You lean back further into him, and let out a small moan as he massages out a particular knot in the back of neck.

“Ugh, that feels so good Harry.” He adjusts himself a little, and continue to rubs your neck. His legs tighten around yours a little. You realize now what you’re doing to him, and you feel bad, honestly. You think of what you and Niall talked about the other night, but you still feel like you’re not ready. Harry lightly taps your shoulders and presses a kiss to the back of your head.

You move your arm to hook around him so you can give his hair a gentle squeeze. He presses his hips to your back side and feel him twitch against you. His hands slide down your arms and wrap around your waist. He kisses you on the cheek, down your jaw, and then down to your neck. He doesn’t waste any time to get your skin between his teeth. You lean back as far as you can into him. His hands move up your stomach a little, and stop just below your breasts. You want to give him the go ahead to touch you, but you don’t speak up.

You’re too busy practically panting from the way he’s sinking into your skin. He’s trying to show what he can do with his mouth, he has to be. You find yourself suddenly on your feet.

“Sorry, did I…did I do something wrong?” He puts his hands up. “Did I leave too big of a mark last time?”

“No, no. It’s not you, Harry. I just think, you know, it’s a work night, and I have to be up early. So I think we should stop that for tonight.”

“I barely even got to kiss you.” He says looking at you with big eyes, and his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest pout you’ve ever seen. It breaks your heart. “Can I see ya Friday night?” You sigh in relief that he’s not mad.

“Yes, of course.” He stands up and takes you in his arms. You look up at him and kiss him. He kisses you back, but only for a minute. He presses his forehead to yours.

“I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but you’re doing something to me. I can’t quite explain it, but I like the way I feel when I’m with you.” You could keel over. A man had never been so honest with you.

“I like the way I feel when I’m with you too, Harry.”

With that he gives you one more squeeze and he’s out the door. You groan to yourself. You know you’re doing what’s best, but you just want to let him ravage you.

Harry speeds quickly to Niall’s, and lets himself in. Niall is sat on his couch in his boxers with a pint of ice cream.

“Uh, hey man?”

“Sorry for just barging in so late.”

“Did you see (y/n)?”

“Yeah.” He paces across the room and runs his hands through his hair. “We had a really nice and relaxing night, and then I did what I always do, I took it too far. But I couldn’t help it!”

“What happened?”

“I was giving her a neck rub, and it was strictly to help her out, nothing sexual. Then she moaned out ‘oh Harry that feels so good’, and I, well you know how it is when a girl says something like that.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, she let me kiss on her, and I thought she was into it, and then all of a sudden she was telling me it was getting late. I feel terrible. I wish she felt like she could talk me through whatever happened to make her feel so uncomfortable.”

“Harry,” Niall starts, putting his ice cream down. “Listen, I can’t tell ya everything, but she has a valid reason for wanting to take it slow. If it makes you feel better, she’s really battlin’ with herself over it. She wants to give you more, but she’s scared.”

“Of me?”

“No, she’s actually amazed by you. She said it was refreshing that you’re being so cool about everything.”

“Then what is she scared of?”

“Giving it to another guy who will just leave her the next day.”

“Is that what happened with her ex?”

“Sort of, there’s a lot more to it. But that’s a story she should really tell you, not me.”

“Alright. I’m seeing her Friday, maybe she’ll feel comfortable opening up to me then. This’ll be our third week seeing each other. She makes me feel so happy, I can’t explain it.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Tonight actually.”

“Good, she’s definitely someone that needs that reassurance.”

“Good to know.”

“No offense, but did you go over there lookin’ like that?”

“It was either this or be late.” Harry raises his middle finger to his friend.

The next day you wake up like you have a hangover. You can barely get yourself out of bed. You were up all night thinking about Harry, and not in a fun way. You felt like you were lying to him or something. Today all you can put together for an outfit are some black dress pants, black flats, a white shirt, and a blush pink blazer. Today was Niall’s day to bring coffee, thank god. By the time you left the house you surely would’ve been late if you had to stop. Your coffee was waiting for you on your desk when you got there. You took it and walked down to his office. You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Hey.” You say.

“Mornin’, come in.” He waves you in with a smile. You close his door most of the way. “Oh boy. What’s wrong?”

“Do you think I should tell him what happened? I feel like I keep sending mixed signals. I mean, when I think about it, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“(y/n), it was a big deal. You almost wasted away to nothing, and you had to see a therapist.”

“Okay, okay, so how do I explain that to him?”

“Just be honest, he’s a really understanding guy. I’m sure some clarity on his end would be good.”

“Has he mentioned anything to you?” You ask, looking down at your shoes. “Sorry, I don’t want you to be in the middle of this.”

“A little…he just wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“He does everything right. But I thought my ex was too, and I know he’s not him, it’s just hard.”

“Maybe you should go in for a session.” You roll your eyes with disgust. “Just an idea.”

“I know you’re right, and I shouldn’t treat you like my therapist.”

“That’s not what I was sayin’. I’m just sayin’ that clearly this is still something that bothers ya.”

“I think it’ll get better once I talk to Harry. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Here, got this flash drive for ya, and a memo saying how they want these clips edited together. Work ya magic.” You take the flash drive from him and smile.

You head back down the hall to your office, and you stop short when you see someone standing in your office. He turns around, it’s Harry. He smiles warmly at you, and you smile back, a little confused.

“Mornin’.” He says to you.

“Morning.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. You put the flash drive on your desk. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the area, and I just wanted to check in and see how you were. I was worried about you last night.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. I’m fine. I was actually wondering if we could meet after work tonight. There’s something I want to tell you, and I don’t want it to ruin our date tomorrow.”

“Sure, but dontcha usually go to the gym after work?”

“I’m too tired for that today. I barely slept last night.” His face falls at your admission.

“Wanna meet at the coffee shop down the street from here?”

“That would be perfect.”

You get your work done, somehow. You tell Harry to just meet you by your car in the parking lot. Your knuckles are white while gripping the steering wheel. He gets in a few minutes later.

“Hi, sorry, I just wanted to talk more privately.” You say looking for at him.

“Of course, love.” You take a deep breath.

“Okay, and it may be way too soon to be talking about this since we’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I feel like you need some explanation for my behavior.” He just looks at you and gives you an encouraging smile. “So, over a year ago, I started seeing someone. We had gone on about four dates, I think. I really liked him, and I thought he liked me. I brought him back to my place on our fourth date. My hope was just to maybe make out.” You swallow. “Maybe a little more, but not go all the way.” Harry nods, his eyebrows furrowed, all his concentration on you. “But he had���other plans.” You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you swallow it back. “It started off fine, and it was like all of a sudden I was naked, and so was he. Everything happened so fast, he took out the condom faster than I could say anything. He was rough with me, and in the moment I didn’t feel safe enough to speak up to tell him to stop.” You take another deep breath. “After it was over, he kissed me goodbye and told me he’d call the next day. He didn’t call for like three days, and he broke every date we had planned.” You look away from Harry. “I basically shut down. I had never felt so used in my life. I missed a week of work. I told them I had the flu. I didn’t eat or bathe. I basically stayed in bed for an entire week. I had never felt that low in my life. It wasn’t until Niall basically broke into my apartment that I got my act together. I didn’t feel great, but I went back to work. I eventually went to therapy, it helped a lot. I learned to stop blaming myself for what happened. That guy was an asshole, and doesn’t deserve to ruin my life. But I guess ever since him I’ve been so guarded about having sex so quickly with someone, I guess out of fear of like just being used and hurt. I know there are people out there that have had worse than me, but for whatever reason this really affected me.”

You look over at Harry, and he is full on sobbing, tears staining his cheeks. He wipes his eyes with his shirt. You wipe your eyes as well. You hadn’t realized you had even started crying. He takes your hand in his, and kisses it.

“I am so sorry that happened to you. You’re so brave. And don’t compare yourself to others, what happened sounds horrible. I don’t understand how people can do things like that. I don’t understand how men can get pleasure by forcing themselves onto someone. I’m sorry if I pushed you into telling me.”

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t push me. I wanted to tell you. I feel much better now that it’s out in the open. You’ve made me feel so comfortable every time we’re together. I didn’t want you to feel like I was rejecting you.”

“I didn’t, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong.”

“I appreciate that, so much.” You smile at him. He puts a hand on your cheek, and you lean into it. “Thank you for listening.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.” Harry’s phone starts to ring, but he ignores it.

“You can get that, Harry.” He reaches into his pocket.

“Shit, it’s work, one sec.” He answers it. “Yeah? Oi, I left it on my desk for ya. Ya I did. Didja check again? Okay, go inta my office, yup, it’s on the left hand side. Got it? Okay good. See ya tomorrow.” He hangs up. You can’t help but notice how thick his accent got on the phone. “Sorry bout that. I swear I work with some real wankahs.” You giggle at the word. “What?”

“Nothing, I just thought that was a word only used in movies.”

“Nope, we really say it. We also say bullocks in case you were wonderin’.”

“I’ll remember that.” You laugh.

“Well, I’m sure you���re drained. You should get home and relax. What would you like to do tomorrow?”

“I’d love to come to your place again. I really liked it there.”

“Alright, whatdya say I pick ya up, and we get some food, and then go to my place.”

“I’d like that.”

“Do me a favor, let me know what you get home.”

“Alright.” You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. You linger for a moment, and then he exits out of the car.

[wearebraveyourhighness]

Get to know me Q's: Since you're making me do the evens, you can do the odds.

Fair enough :P

get to know me, pick some numbers.

1. selfie

Nope...... :P

3. do you miss anyone?

Yes, my dad. He passed away from cancer a year ago in June.

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

My daughter, Violet.

7. what was your life like last year?

Well.....I started the new year (2020, I think your asking anyway) in (January) about a month pregnant. Ended in the hospital at the end of January because the doctors thought I had an ectopic pregnancy later found out I just had an enlarged cyst and also had serve hyperemesis gradvidarum. Which, I had throughout my pregnancy mind you, so much fun, not! Found out my dads cancer resurfaced in February and spread. Found out I was having a girl in May. My dads passing away in June. Then, had my daughter in late September. That's pretty much how my last year went. Sadness and joy all wrapped up into one. Hence, why I haven't been on here very much but am slowly getting back into the groove of things.

9. who did you last see in person?

If you count this morning it would be my husband.

11. are you listening to music right now?

I'm actually watching/listening to a Prime show called Atlantic: A Year in the Wild.

13. how do you feel right now?

I am tired but that's normal for being a new mom. Anxious because I start my new job ordination tomorrow.

15. personality description

Oh lordy, ummm..... I'm shy and bubbly at times. I'm not really good at describing myself.

17. opinion on insecurities.

We all have them and its okay.

19. have you ever been to New York?

Nope

21. age and birthday?

I'm 29 and my bday is January 12

23. fear(s)

Death, losing everything, not making enough money, etc....

25. role model

Does a fictional character count? If so it'd be Padme' Amidala because she stood up for what she believed in and helped those who needed her most.

27. things i hate

I don't like broccoli, cauliflower, horror/gore movies, heavy metal (its the noise output), busy highways, change, and cleaning (sometimes depends on my mood).

29. favorite film(s)

Star Wars, Paris I Love You, nature/ancient history documentaries, Secondhand Lions, etc...

31. 3 random facts

I am learning to speak German (slowly it seems), I'm afraid of heights but not if I'm in a tree which is weird, and I'm a jewelry designer.

33. something you want to learn

I want to learn how to draw better and speak various lanaguages.

35. favorite subject

History, Creative Writing, English

37. favourite actor/actress

Natalie Portman

39. favourite sport(s)

Soccer

41. relationship status

Married, 1 yr will be 2yr in October

43. favorite song ever

I have way to many favorite songs. But, Across the Stars is my favorite.

45. how you found out about your idol

Watching Star Wars that's mostly it.

47. turn ons

Nice, loving, creative, someone who can make me smile, funny, etc...

49. where i want to be right now

On vacation but I think everybody does.

51. starsign

Capricorn

53. 5 things that make me happy

My daughter, family, writing, reading, and going for walks.

55. tumblr friends

Well there's Tabitha, Loren, Breanna, Greg, Sean, and Sandy.

57. favourite animal(s)

white wolves, kolas, and sheep.

59. why i joined tumblr

I joined Tumblr to improve on my writing abilities and meet new peoples. :)

[nikanndros]

Hey. I wanted to say Thank You and that I’m glad you back to writing again. I really do adore your stories and appreciate all your work, love the little added bits of humour, love etc you put into fics. I was extremely excited about seeing a new lamen fic up on the archive from you. I devoured it then reread it to pick up all the bits I missed the first read through. Enjoy on a pedestal to even tho aug/nik aren’t normally my thing. Hope this means your back for a bit and I’ll get to read more ❤️

Thank you! I hope I’m back too. Here’s some Lamen from the assassin au as thanks. 

-

“We know who you are, Damianos,” says the voice on the phone.

“Is that so?” Damen responds. Sure, the opening line is a little unnerving, but Damen’s got bigger concerns. Like whether the cauliflower at this store is organic, and GMO-free (whatever that means, Alyssa at the vegan health store has assured him it’s important).

“We know what you were hired for. And for a little--”

“What’s with the ‘we’ thing?” Damen interrupts. “I mean, you’re clearly just one person talking. Do you speak for an organisation or is it like, a royal We kind of thing?”

There’s a pause. “Our company was hired by a Mr Marley. We know that you’ve been employed to carry out a hit on him, and we are here to motivate you to act otherwise.”

“Huh,” Damen says. He puts the cauliflower in the trolley and moves down the aisle to the tomatoes. “Honestly, that’s a relief to hear. If you were royalty, it’d get awkward, because my partner and I tried this roleplay thing the other week, and--”

“We have your husband!” The man on the phone shouts suddenly, and with a tinge of desperation.

Damen frowns. “Sorry, was I oversharing? My husband says I need to be more open about our sex life, but maybe that was too much.” And probably also a plot on Laurent’s behalf to traumatise Auguste.

“We have your husband,” the man repeats sternly. “You are to reject the hit and send us information on who hired you, or we will kill him.”

Damen picks up a sweet potato, and regards it. “Okay.”

“Okay,” the man says. “We have a deal?”

“I meant more that I understood what you were saying than that I agreed to your terms.” Damen looks down at his trolley. “Actually, could you put him on the phone real quick?”

He can hear the man saying in the background that Damen is requesting proof of life. Then Laurent’s voice drifts over the phone.

“Sweetheart,” Laurent drawls. He sounds bored.

“I’m at the store,” Damen says. He can hear his own voice echoing back a little, so he must be on speakerphone. “Curry for dinner. Did you want me to pick you up some chicken or something to have on the side?”

Damen is a vegetarian, but he respects Laurent’s choice not to be. Also, Laurent is kind of tetchy when he’s low on iron. 

“That’s okay,” Laurent says, “My brother wants to take me to that steakhouse on Thursday, remember?”

“Of course,” Damen replies. 

There’s a noise of someone fumbling with a phone and then the man’s voice is back. “That’s enough,” he says. “You agree to our terms. You will meet us tonight at--”

“Actually,” Damen says. “I’ve really got to get dinner started, but I’m sure my beloved can handle things from here.” Laurent hadn’t said any of their ‘help me please’ codewords, so he’s definitely just playing around with whoever these guys are.

“What?” the man says.

“Listen, I’ve got to go now; I hate people talking on phones at the checkout, but,” Damen smiles, “Good luck.” They’ll need it.

[spadebrigade]

eyes on you - sfw version

author’s note: hello! this is “eyes on you”, a version of my fic on ao3 that has the smut cut out. click here for the original, which also has the tags + summary

author’s note (continued): please note that this is a sequel to my longer work, a fortune i couldn’t foresee. but you don’t need to read it in order to understand this one shot! 

we begin with this song. now onto the fic: 

This was his moment. Kuroo closed his eyes, took a deep breath. It only took one phrase to spark a revolution, one song to set a nation’s heart on fire. And he was just the person to take on this challenge, delighting in the water droplets as they cascaded over his bare body. Taking in one more deep breath, he belted out:

“I love you, baaaaaby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baaaaaby, to warm the lonely niiiiight~”

For the world to hear. Well--for Kenma to hear his terrible singing through the noises of the shower running in their shared apartment. He was just getting into the nonexistent music, singing excruciatingly slowly while he lathered his hair into a mohawk, before he stopped. 

Why hadn’t Kenma banged on the door for him to shut the fuck up yet? Between the awful singing and the cheesy lyrics, he’d expected his boyfriend to have a complaint by now. 

Rinsing off the remaining suds, Kuroo hummed the rest of the song to himself. He still couldn’t believe that he and Kenma were dating. All those years he’d been in love with his best friend, and it turns out it’d been mutual the whole time? He shook his head, muttering “what the fuck” to himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to be too mad about it, because they were together now. And as was his right as both boyfriend and best friend, he was going to annoy the fuck out of Kenma.

He slung a towel over his waist, not even bothering to dry off the drops of water that ran down his chest. He had far more important things to worry about, like bursting into Kenma’s room without knocking.

“What are you up to?”

Kenma sat in his desk chair with his back turned to the door. Kuroo didn’t need to admire him in secret anymore, but it was habit. Some part of his chest fluttered at the sight of his boyfriend so focused on his computer screen, ears covered by headphones and hair piled into a neat bun.

“I’m streaming,” Kenma said, occupied by some fantasy world on his monitor.

“What are you playing?” Kuroo stepped into his personal space, leaning forward and dripping water onto the keyboard.

“Oh my god.”

It was the utter disbelief in his voice that made Kuroo look up, to see wide honey-brown eyes. “What?”

“You’re half-naked and my camera is on.” He gestured to the stream of comments running across the screen. Kuroo caught a “WHO IS THAT” and plenty of tongue and water emojis.

“Oh.” He’d already forgotten he was in a towel. “Well--” He hadn’t signed up to perform for such a wide audience today, but he was going to deliver. “I gotta give the people what they want...Check out these guns.” He posed, flexing his biceps and making kissy faces at the camera.

“Get out,” Kenma pushed him out of the camera’s range. “You’re going to get me banned for pornography.”

He threw his head back into a hyena laugh, making his way towards the door. He was giddy, having achieved his goal of annoying Kenma for the day.

On his way out, he heard his boyfriend speaking into the mic: “The chat is being too much today. That’s just my roommate.”

Kuroo clicked the door closed. Right. Just his roommate.

When he sat at his desk later, trying to study, he knew that Kenma hadn’t meant it that way. They were boyfriends, and they were out as a couple to practically everyone they knew (Bokuto and Hinata had been particularly happy to find out, insisting on double dates that Kuroo agreed to and Kenma was horrified by). But Kenma was a Youtuber and hadn’t yet told his audience, for a number of reasons.

One was for their privacy. As Kenma had explained, “If my fanbase finds out I’m dating someone, they’ll have a lot of opinions about it. And that’s not something I want to deal with until I have to.”

And Kuroo understood that. But there was one reason that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with.

“Plus,” Kenma had said on that cold night when they were both sitting on their hard lump of a couch, “Yuuji and I have this whole thing going on right now. He’s been desperately single for a while and the fact that it looks like we might be dating is helping his views, and mine.”

Now, Kuroo chewed the end of his pen. He and Kenma hadn’t even been together that long, but he felt like he was already putting on a suit for the funeral of their honeymoon phase. When they had finally gotten together, the world didn’t stop for them--Kuroo had to pay attention to his exams, and Kenma had to pay attention to his Youtube career. 

So much attention to his Youtube career. If he wasn’t recording a video, then he was editing another video, or streaming. At least Kuroo got to tag along when Kenma vlogged something, though he’d only be there to help with the camera. 

But there was one thing he felt good about: they were going to have a Movie Night, a semiregular tradition that neither of them ever skipped. They’d take turns picking bad movies and Kenma would order some food, and Kuroo would cook something healthy in an attempt to balance it out. Last time, Kenma had chosen a film about a murderous car tire and this week, Kuroo planned to outdo him with a 2002 3D animated Christmas movie that was sure to be a heap of hilarious garbage. 

Once he’d finally finished balancing the last of the chemical equations, Kuroo found himself in the kitchen, preparing cauliflower. It was a methodical process; washing, chopping, baking (even though their oven kind of sucked and raised the temperature of the entire apartment). He was in the middle of it when Kenma shuffled out of his room.

“Are you cooking?” He tilted his head, sniffing the air.

“Yeah, I found this dope recipe. It’s gonna be so awesome, you’re gonna have to like vegetables.”

“Right,” Kenma snorted. “Listen, I have to skip the movie tonight. I’m gonna hop on Yuuji’s stream and it’s gonna take a while.”

“Oh,” Kuroo said in a voice that he hoped covered the sound of his heart dropping to the bottom of his chest. “Okay.”

“Don’t you have homework to finish anyway?” 

“Yeah.” He watched Kenma pluck an apple off the counter and disappear into his room.

Kuroo was left alone with the cauliflower. He lifted the bowl towards his face, staring at the zombie broccoli. “You still like me, right?”

It didn’t answer. He would have been worried if it did.

He continued cooking in silence. One missed movie night wasn’t a big deal, right? They could watch movies any time.

Or that’s what he told himself as laughter echoed from Kenma’s room. 

                                                               ≡

Kuroo thought that he could shake off these negative feelings, but they stuck to him like a wet paper towel. 

He’d never been the jealous type in relationships. When his middle school girlfriend confessed that she liked another boy, he let her go with no hard feelings. With all his one night stands, he’d never felt possessive. If anything, he preferred to leave before he or his partner could marinate too much in their shame. But then again, when he’d been with all of those people, his heart had stayed behind in Kenma’s hands.

The word “jealous” left a rotten flavor in his mouth, but he couldn’t deny that was how he felt. When he went back into his room, pulling his laptop towards his face way too close like a preteen looking up boobs, he started researching this Yuuji that Kenma was spending so much time with. The Wikipedia page popped up on Google:

Full name: Yuuji Terushima

Occupation: Youtuber

Alias: PartyHair

Sliding in earbuds, Kuroo clicked around his channel. Immediately, his latest video began to autoplay.

“Welcome back, everyone! It’s your boy Yuuji…”

Kuroo frowned. This guy was fucking smokin’. A chiseled face, perfectly styled bleached hair, and was that a fucking tongue piercing?

He groaned. It was a secret wish of his to get blown by a guy with a tongue piercing. What if it was Kenma’s too?

A voice in his head told him he was being a total dumbass right now. And obviously, he didn’t think that Kenma would ever cheat on him--or actually leave him--based on who around him happened to be hot and have piercings. But Kuroo was still fucking mad about it.

After watching over an hour’s worth of PartyHair’s videos, Kuroo had brewed himself a fat pot of Old Man Grumpiness, complete with a dash of edge and a sprinkle of angst. One that he was still letting simmer when Kenma peeked into his room later.

“Good night.”

“Night,” Kuroo borderline growled, curling up under his blanket.

Kenma quirked an eyebrow in response. “I think you need to sleep.” 

Sending incoherent mutters in response, he heard Kenma quietly click the door closed.

Kuroo would be damned if he waited his whole life to get this boy’s attention, only to lose it in a matter of weeks.

But he was still being a little bitch the next day, as Bokuto noted when they got lunch together.

“I’m not being a little bitch,” Kuroo crossed his arms, watching with annoyance as Bokuto scarfed down a burrito. “I’m just--I’m just pissed that he’s spending so much time with some other dude, y’know? We’ve only been dating a few weeks. Shouldn’t our hands always be in each other’s pants?”

Bokuto nearly choked, letting out a boisterous laugh. “Why the fuck would you assume that?”

“I don’t know!”

He shook his head. “Dude, if it really bothers you that much, why don’t you just talk to Kenma about it?”

“Because I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of possessive creep.” He leaned his cheek on his hand dejectedly.

“But you are some kind of pos-”

“Thanks, Bo, I get it.” He stared down at his untouched food.

“Look,” Bokuto gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “relationships are about communication, right? I always tell Akaashi what’s on my mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kuroo had heard plenty of times, from Akaashi himself, how it could be a little overwhelming to hear every passing thought about is it possible for two people on opposite ends of the universe to experience sunrise and sunset at the same time? And sometimes it was things like what do you think dirt actually tastes like? 

“Me and Kenma don’t really work that way.”

Bokuto grinned knowingly. “Kuroo, which of us has been in a successful long-term relationship?”

He groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “You.”

“And which of us was miserable until he listened to my genius advice to confess to Kenma?”

“Me…”

“Exactly,” Bokuto shot off some finger guns, before stealing some food off of his plate. “So maybe listen to the love expert this time around.”

He hated the fact that Bokuto was right, that he actually knew more about these things than Kuroo. But he didn’t need the reminder to know that Bo was an expert in loving people, was just natural at being adored and loved by everyone in the room. Kuroo, on the other hand, was not that kind of person. He was a little shit--and glad to be. But he didn’t want to only be a little shit to Kenma. He wanted to be a very nice shit, that smelled like roses. That you might want to cuddle with during a cold night. Okay, he was bad at metaphors.

                                                              ♠

Kenma slid a hand over his face. “There’s more?”

He’d found himself having a peculiar problem ever since Kuroo had wandered into his room with a towel on. The entire internet was thirsting over his boyfriend.

The chat was spammed with comments, and within a few minutes, his Twitter was flooded with screenshots of Kuroo’s abs.

ana_the_beara: who the f**k is this hottie?! @ kodzuken

kr1kit: @ kodzuken says that’s just his roommate…

chanchan28: oh my god they were roommates

Kuroo had wandered into his room for all of one minute and now he had to deal with hundreds of thirst tweets, questions about his dating life, and speculations about Mr. Wet Abs’ identity. It was all a bit much for him to handle. (Though he did have to give credit to the people who made memes and edits during the stream, seemingly seconds after the whole thing even happened.)

He had a ton of damage control to do, especially considering how he and Yuuji were supposed to be dropping hints that they were together. He hoped that the other Youtuber wouldn’t be mad about it.

“That’s actually so funny,” Yuuji laughed on their phone call, scrolling through the memes. “But it could be a big help! It’ll, like, make more noise, y’know? Get people talking, which will get us more views.”

So that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. But this whole “possibly-dating-other-online-people” business was starting to feel like more trouble than it was worth, as much as he liked hanging out with Yuuji. 

How long did this have to go on for anyway? He’d much rather spend time with Kuroo. Speaking of Kuroo…

Maybe he could go for a movie tonight. So what if his homework was a day late?

                                                              ♠

Kuroo was on the couch with his laptop, in the middle of solving equations that he should have done earlier, when Kenma walked into the living room.

“Hey, I have some free time. Want to watch a movie?” He settled in beside Kuroo, criss-crossing his legs.

He glanced at Kenma, before returning his gaze to his laptop. “I have work to do.” Shit, that’d sounded too sharp. Now Kenma was looking at him with furrowed brows. “It’s...homework.” He added awkwardly, as though that explained his terrible mood.

“Are you okay?” Came the inevitable question, gentle as it always was, laced with concern.

‘I’m fine,’ was what he’d wanted to say. That was not what came out.

“Oh so you want to hang out with me just because your schedule cleared up?”

He got a look of bewilderment in return, and looked away, his skin heating with embarrassment and anger.

A hand reached over and Kenma slowly closed his laptop, looking at him directly. He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet that catlike gaze.

“Are you saying that I don’t make time for you?”

There was the question. The confrontation.

“Well, you don’t.” As he said it, he felt like a petulant child, throwing a fit over nothing. But he couldn’t stop himself.

“Kuro, we’re both in a busy time right now. You know that.” His voice was measured despite the irritation that colored it.

He turned now, arms crossed and eyes glaring. “Why don’t you go hang out with Yuuji?” He spat the name.

Kenma blinked. Processed. “...You’re not seriously jealous of Yuuji?” Halfway between a question and a statement.

His shoulders scrunched as he sunk into the couch, silent.

                                                              ♠

“Oh my god. Is that why you've been acting so weird lately?” He took Kuroo’s silence as an invitation to invade his space, gently pushing away the laptop and scooting even closer.

“You’ve been spending so much time with him! And half your followers think you’re fucking.”

“What does it matter if they think that when I’m fucking you?”

Kuroo huffed, turning his head away again.

“Kuroo, what does it matter when you’re the only person I masturbate to?”

He whipped his head back immediately, overcome by a blush that had already infected not only his cheeks, but also Kenma’s.

“I’m the only person you masturbate to?”

Now it was Kenma’s turn to look away. “I--I’ve been into you since forever. You already know that.”

He grinned. “But this is another level, kitty cat.”

Kenma groaned in frustration, his tied-back hair unable to cover the embarrassment on his face. “I’m out of here.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo said, in both shock and amusement at his boyfriend’s reaction. He didn’t have time to say anything else before Kenma was off the couch, out the room--

“Hey!” He scrambled to his feet, following after him. Kenma was fast, but not fast enough. Kuroo caught his hand in the hallway. He was anticipating a struggle, but didn’t receive one--Kenma’s face was turned away, but their hands were nonetheless linked together.

He led his embarrassed boyfriend into the room where this whole mess started, walking past the gaming setup and settling on Kenma’s bed. He sat among the pillows, but the bed’s owner settled in the farthest corner towards the wall, pressing his hands to his cheeks as though to absorb the redness.

“I masturbate to you, too.”

The confession relaxed Kenma’s shoulders, but his voice still came out quietly, “I always wondered--” He interrupted himself, shook his head. “Sometimes, I...I heard you doing it.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. “Me masturbating?” The answer to his question came in the form of sheepish nods. “...Did you like what you heard?”

“I--yeah, idiot!” 

                                                             ♠

A pillow landed on Kuroo’s face, earning his laughter. A devilish smile grew on his face. “Well, if you liked that song, I can give you a concert.” He was already shrugging out of his shirt. “You’ve got the best seat in the house.” 

Maybe Terushima had a sexy piercing and some of Kenma’s time, but only Kuroo had the honor of gracing his boyfriend’s fantasies. And he was going to prove just how grateful he was.

“Did you see the news articles about your little display in my room?”

Kuroo snorted as he settled back, getting comfortable. “Did I make you jealous?”

“No,” he answered too quickly, crossing his arms. “Idiot.”

He let out his dorky hyena laugh, which, to Kenma, somehow sounded sexy. Before he could say anything else, Kuroo put on an enticing, yet filthy show for him to watch, which he may have participated in. Which may have involved a fantasy of a steamy shower in a lake house that they’d visited as kids.

When the show was over, they both settled back against the pillows breathlessly.

“Kuroo,” He began with a quirked brow, “if you were thinking of shower sex, then why set it in the cabin?”

He felt Kuroo’s chest shake as he laughed. “You’re finding plot holes in my masturbation fantasies?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s because...it’s scenic.”

Kenma scoffed at the obvious lie. “Come on, you’re clearly in a sharing mood today.”

“All right,” Kuroo sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s because that summer...when we first visited that cabin...it’s when I first realized I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat. “It was?” Suddenly he racked his brain, trying to remember anything special that happened, any sign that Kuroo’s feelings towards him had changed. But there was nothing. They’d acted like dumb kids during that week away, just like they had every week before that.

“Yeah.” Kuroo smiled. Not that devilish grin of his, but one that was more honest, that spread over his face easily. “It was actually because of your mom.”

“What? Stop joking--”

“It’s not a joke!” He laughed, meeting Kenma’s eyes. “It really was because of her. I wanted to go to the deeper part of the lake without any adult supervision, and she wasn’t having it. It went something like…”

“I want to go in the lake.” Insisted young Kuroo, pointing to the opposite shore. “Me and Kenma wanna see the fish.”

“No, Tetsurou.” Mrs. Kozume tutted. “What if something happens while you’re over there and we can’t help you?”

“But I can swim! I won’t drown.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What if Kenma drowns? Will you be happy if I die from a heart attack?”

“But I didn’t even hear what she was saying,” he chuckled. “Me drowning was one thing, but putting you in danger...that was something I could never risk.”

Kenma had no idea how Kuroo could do it--could make him fall in love more and more.

“I thought about it a lot. But I decided that if someone else drowned--this is gonna sound horrible,” He shook his head, smiling. “If someone else drowned, I wouldn’t be nearly as upset. Except maybe my dad, but. The point is, I cared about you more than anyone else. Your mom must have been happy because I dropped the idea of going that deep into the lake.”

“Can we stop talking about my mom?”

Kuroo broke into another laugh. “Fine, fine. There were a few times at the lake that I thought about kissing you, but I chickened out each time...I really wish you’d been my first kiss.”

Kenma felt his chest expand. He knew how much Kuroo regretted fooling around with other people before they’d started dating. “...You don’t remember, do you?”

He received a curious head tilt in response. “Remember what?”

                                                             ♠

“My eleventh birthday.”

“Wha--” Kuroo broke off his own question in confusion. “I remember your eleventh birthday. It was a few months after we visited the lake. Didn’t we have a sleepover?”

Kenma nodded. “We did. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Enlighten me.”

“All right. But give me the blanket first. I’m cold.”

“Even while resting in my loving arms?” Kuroo sighed dramatically, before pulling the blanket up over them. “There. Now tell me.”

“Okay,” Kenma tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, looking at a spot on the wall. “My mom bought me that cake. Do you remember? The one with the hedgehog on it.”

“Right. Because you liked Sonic, but you wanted him to look like a real hedgehog.”

“Yeah,” He nodded. “And she only told us to eat one piece so we wouldn’t get hyper. But then she went to sleep and we ate mochi instead?”

“Because it’d take longer for her to notice it was gone.” Kuroo grinned.

“You got this bit of chocolate on your nose. And you were laughing about something--I don’t know what it was, but it felt like a light inside of me switched on.”

“Your gay awakening?”

He snorted. “Basically. But that wasn’t what I wanted to tell you.”

“What, Kenma?” Kuroo whined. “You’re leaving me in suspense here.”

Kenma ignored him. “Do you also remember how you said you wanted to stay up all night long? And then you fell asleep at 11:30.”

“Well we were playing volleyball all day!”

He chuckled. “Well...before you fell asleep, we were talking. You asked me if there were any girls I liked.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows rose upwards. “And what did you say?”

“Anyway, Kuroo...have you ever kissed anyone?” Newly-eleven-year-old Kenma asked as Kuroo yawned.

“Me? No.” He shook his head sleepily. 

Kenma turned over to his side, looking at Kuroo intently. Kuroo, with his messy hair covering half his face and his arms tucked behind his head, stared comfortably at the ceiling. 

“Is there anyone you want to kiss?” Kenma asked, his heart beating faster.

“Mm, I dunno.” Kuroo turned over to face him. “I’d need practice.”

“We could practice.” He said before he could think better of the words, his pulse in his ears. He started to think of something to say, to cover it up--

“Mhm.”

Kenma’s breath stopped in his lungs. He scrunched up his face, gathered up the courage, and planted a peck right on Kuroo’s mouth. The world tilted, forever changed.

“...Kuroo?”

The only reply he got was a loud snore.

“No way.” Kuroo burst into laughter, much to Kenma’s annoyance. “I was asleep?!”

“You were, you ass.” Kenma rolled his eyes. “It was so embarrassing.”

“I guess that’s why you never mentioned it, huh.” Kuroo said, pulling Kenma’s hair free from its ponytail to run his fingers through it. He supposed that he was forgiven for the actions of his twelve-year-old self when Kenma hummed contentedly and leaned into his touch. “Actually,” he said with a small smile, “I’m kinda happy that happened. Because it means we were each other’s first kiss.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And you’re gonna be my last kiss, too.”

“...Kuroo?” Kenma gave him that cute, furrowed-brow look.

“When we’re all old and wrinkly, you’ll still be the only person I wanna kiss.”

Kenma scoffed, turning over. “What a dork.” But there was no hiding the pink that had bloomed on his cheeks.

                                                             ≡

“So,” Kenma said to his camera, leaning back in his gaming chair. “Next question: what is Kodzuken’s sexuality? Ah, I might need some help with this one.” He picked up his phone, dialing a number before putting it to his ear. “Can you come in here? I need you for a minute.”

A moment later, his door opened. “You called, kitty cat?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Kenma scoffed. “Anyway, come here. I need to tell my viewers what my sexuality is.” He gestured to the camera.

Kuroo squatted beside his chair, rubbing his chin in thought. “Ah, Kodzuken’s sexuality...well, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because he's mine.”

He suppressed a chuckle, but a smile still leaked from his lips. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“No problem.” He stood, pressing a kiss to Kenma’s cheek. “Don’t be too long, okay? I’m making dinner.”

“Okay.”

Upon hearing the door click closed, he turned back to the camera. “Well, this answers the next question: who is Mr. Wet Abs?” Kenma waved his hands, knowing he’d later edit in pictures of them together. “He’s not just my roommate. He’s my boyfriend.”

And whatever he’d have to deal with--however many questions, comments, or gaudy headlines--it was worth it.

Ending notes: a million thanks to both my good friend ana and the lovely lauren for beta-ing this fic for me <3 and thank YOU for reading! please feel free to let me know what you think :D

my ao3

my instagram: @ spade.yy

[artxyra]

MLxDCs Titans | Part 1

*I’m pretty sure this is going to be my biggest regret or my greatest pride. Whelp lets see after I go hide in the closet. Enjoy. 

“If I’m Robin, then who are you?” Jason asks pointing to himself.

Dick takes a second and allowed the question to affect him. He lets out a quick chuckle, “That’s a good question.” The former Robin then exit the training room.

The system alerts that someone is at the main entrance. Dick pulls up the feed to show a young woman wearing a pale pink jacket and dark pants. The figure appears to be irritated at the system denying her access to the building.

“Shit,” Dick mutters quickly and rushes to the main entrance.

The newly built Titans look at each in wonder. Who could this person be?

“Mari!” Dick greets opening the door to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“So, you changed the codes,” Marinette states walking through the threshold, her hand gripping her purse. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but you know…” She trails, off avoiding eye contact with the older.

“Where have you been?” Dick questions rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Marinette tease setting her purse down at the counter, blankly ignoring the teens in the area watching with curiosity.

“Actually, yes, Mari, I would like to know.”

Marinette sighs and turns her full attention to the so-called leader—well he’s more of a mentor now.

“I’ve been everywhere, Dick. These past few months have been hectic.” The twenty-four-year-old tries to avoid. “However, I do have to thank you.”

Dick looks around lost at the woman that is his adopted little sister. “Thank me for what?”

“My apartment. I moved back in three months ago and imagined my surprised when the landlady told me that I’m now the owner of a condo rather than an apartment.” Marinette smiles.

It was only, after she left Dick in a confused then, that she turns to the breakfast eating teens.  

“Hi, I’m Marinette.” She greets them.

Jason stares mildly in a daze, wondering how this dark-haired, small woman could render the first Robin speechless. Gar gave the face of a lost puppy that just found his long-lost toy, while Rachel—well Rachal didn’t know what she was feeling. This woman’s brightness clouded her ever-growing darkness and that made her wary.

“Don’t pay her any attention, she’s just about to leave.” Dick irrupts pulling on Marinette’s right forearm to which the latter breaks free from his grasp.

“Don’t listen to him,” She counters sending them a smirk before whispering, “He has no power over me.”

It is then that Jason breaks free from his daze to laugh out the suffering of his predecessor. “Oh… this is gold, I never thought I would see the day Dick Grayson is afraid of a woman.” He laughs out clinging onto his sweatshirt.

“Hi, your beautiful--I mean, I’m Gar.” Gar tries to greet the pastel-dark clothed woman. Marinette lets out a giggle shakes he’s hand.

“And what about you two?” She wonders balancing her focus between Jason and Rachel.

“Um…I’m Rachel, and he’s Jason.” Something in Marinette told her to comfort the mysterious teen as she pulls Rachel in for a hug.

“Hey, is everything okay? And don’t just tell me you’re fine, I know fine when I see it.” Rachel avoids her worried graze. “We can talk about later in private if you want.” Marinette then offers a soft smile to the thirteen-year-old.

“I would like that.” Rachel murmurs before continuing to eat her breakfast.

“I’m Todd, Jason Todd.” Jason greets introduces himself.

“Let me guess, you’re the new Robin,” Marinette smirks biting the inside of her cheek.

Jason’s confident stance fails to remain as he tries to hide his slightly red cheeks.

“Do you plan on staying?” Dick finally interrupts the introductions.

“I don’t know.” Marinette pats Jason on his shoulder before walking over to the original Robin. “That is if you meant here at the tower, or in San Francisco in general.”

“You know what I mean.” He states folding his arm.

The three teens’ ears perk up wanting to hear the woman’s answers.

“You know I can’t answer that, Dick.” Marinette folders her arms and look off to the side. How dare he ask her questions like that. 

Dick sighs and pulls Marinette in for a hug. He places his chin on top of her head knowing that moments like these were what he was missing. The two adults stay like that for a few minutes before the timer for the stove goes off. Dick immediately breaks the hold and tend to the food.

“So, who are you to Dick? His lover—” Jason began to question but is immediately cut off by what he would call a burst of angelic laughter.

“No, no, I’m practically his sister.” Marinette laughs cutting down that assumption just as quick. “Besides Dick isn’t my type.”

Jason knew that this woman needs to protect and that he would do anything to ensure it. Keeping up his bad-boy exterior, he excuses himself back to the training room. If you ask Jason what he was doing in there, he would deny any reason related to screaming his anger out about Dick.

“Well, he seems…nice.” Marinette acknowledges cutting herself a piece of the breakfast casserole that Dick recently took out of the oven. She grimaces at the taste of the food but quickly hides it with a face of astonished.

“You still can’t cook.” Marinette huffs as she now finished half of her casserole piece.

“What do you mean by that?” Dick asks offended.

Marinette gestures to the food in front of her. “This may be editable, but it tastes like crap, Dick. I would offer to cook something, but I think I’m going to wait for dinner as breakfast seems to be over.” The female heroine states gesturing to the lack of food on the table and children in the vicinity.

Dick sighs and takes a seat next to the designer. “What have you been up to?” To others, it may have seemed like a flat question, but Marinette knew him enough to know that he legitimately cares.

“Didn’t I told you that I’ll be the one to make dinner.” A small furious dark-haired Frenchwoman screech out the moment she enters the kitchen.

Marinette hasn’t been at the tower for more than several hours and Dick is already making bad decisions regarding the teams’ health.

“It’s healthy, I promise.” Dick counters handing her a slice. Marinette takes a bit and immediately gags. She swallows of course but it was rough. How dare her palette be altered like that.

“Dick, cauliflower for a crust is one thing and I can make it better.” Marinette scolds tossing the remaining of her slice and turning to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, Mari. Gar loved it.”

“I’m pretty sure Gar is a vegetarian, Dick.”

Marinette soon took over the kitchen only for a bright light flashing across the window stops her. She motions for Dick to look with her.

“TV?” Marinette asks.

“TV.” With that, the two adults rush over to the television. They immediately call out to the other and sat down.

The news on a live car chase said it all.

“…We’re live on a downtown car chase with a stolen vehicle. The police seem to have the suspect cornered…” The male news anchor spoke.

Marinette folds her arm watching the fight between a young teen and a group of trained policemen. She barely acknowledges Rachel’s question and Jason’s answer. The girl's moves to were familiar to the woman and she knew by looking at Dick from her peripheral that he knows it too.

It after the footage shows the patched-eyed girl jumping across a building and crashing into a window that Marinette saw a change in her brother.

“Dick, don’t do it.” She murmurs hoping the other didn’t catch her words.

That didn’t stop Dick from stating, “I’ll be back.” And walking out of the room.

Marinette could only huff her brother’s hero’s complex and turn her attention to the team. “I guess that is enough TV for tonight.” She says shutting off the news. “Anyone still hungry, I can make a mean organic pizza if you want?” She gestures towards the kitchen.

Rachel nods feeling her stomach growl in hunger.

“Hold up, you’re not the one in charge here, I am.” Jason complains, but one look from Marinette’s “try me if you dare” expression told him to back down.

“I’m not saying that I’m in charge.” Marinette argues, “I’m asking if you want something other than the crap that Dick prepared earlier.”

“I’m full, but do you mind if I watch?” Gar warily asks only to receive a heartwarming smile and a nod from the person of interest. “Yes!” He gloats running into the kitchen.

While heading to the kitchen, Marinette couldn’t help but stop to look at the door wondering where Dick could have gone at this time of night or better yet who would he bring home.

When Dick returned with the unconscious body of the teen that was in the car chase, Marinette could only sigh and restrain herself from hitting the twenty-eight-year-old in the head.

“You are crazy to bring her here. What will the other say?” Marinette rubs the bridge of her nose.

“Just let me put her in a room.” Dick evades maneuvering to an empty room.

Marinette could only let out a slight growl before returning to her latest design. When Dick came back into the room, he sighs and tapes against the table. Marinette looks up, closing her sketchbook and stands up. Dick motions for her to follow him.

Together they enter the control room. Dick immediately place a camera on the mysterious teen’s room.

“What are you planning?” Marinette murmurs leaning against the desk.

“To be honest, I have no idea.” He answers watching the monitor.

Marinette yawns, but she steadies herself finely, “You can’t save them all, Dick. They’re going to want answers.”

“What do you think of her?” He asks.

Marinette chuckles lightly. Maybe it was a lack of caffeine that is making her like this or she wad genuine got the wrong idea when Dick leaned into the desk. “She has to be meta. I’m placing that on the table now. No one can make a crash like that and live. She has the skills, but do wonder,” Marinette pauses. “How did she get the eye patch?”

Dick could agree, he too wonders about the eye patch.

“We’ll find out when she wakes up.” He leans back into the main chair.

Marinette yawns again. Looking around, she finds a comfortable spot on the floor. This isn’t the best place, but she can at least rest her eyes.

“When the last time you had caffeine?” Dick asks out of the blue only to have his question answered by a small red kwami. “Hello Tikki, I’m surprised you decided to make an appearance.”

The kwami of creation scoffs at the former Robin and settles down on the desk. “She’s right, you haven’t changed at all, Richard.”

Dick sighs, “I thought we were over that, Tikki.”

Tikki hums looking over to her chosen. “We were but then you decided to do something completely left-field leaving Marinette broken. You weren’t the one to put her back to together, Richard. I was.”

Dick rubs his hand against his face, “Whatever.” He murmurs turning his attention to the screen rather than the kwami glowering at him.

At least an hour past before his phone rings, Marinette upon hearing the added noise, shifts in her sleep. Her eyes flutter open as sits herself up.

“Hank?” He answers accepting the call.

“We got trouble. Dawn and I just got a visit from Dr. Light.” Hank states over the phone.

Dick shifts in his chair. Marinette’s fully awake now to listen in on the conversation.

“You okay?” Dick asks.

“We are but the kid we were helping… wasn’t so lucky.” 

“Sure, that it was Dr. Light?” Dick turns to Marinette catching her concern look.

“We just saw a kid burn up from the inside out. Pretty sure it was him.”

Marinette gasps hearing the news, tears water in her eyes. She knows that it wasn’t their fault, but someone just lost their lives because of an old foe of theirs.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Dick gets up from the chair. “I thought that he was still in prison.”

Marinette wants to hug the man in front of her, but she knows how angsty Dick gets when news like this breaks out.

“I guess he paroled himself.”

Dick looks around, his mind going several miles per second. “This is bad.”

“No shit.”

Making a firm decision Dick offers them a suggestion. “You guys should come here. We should get together to figure this out.”

There was a long pause on the other side of the phone.

“Okay. We’re on our way.” Once Hank said that Dick hangs up the phone. His mind now focuses on a singular person that just so happened to wake up.

“Go. I’ll meet you down there.” Marinette says wiping the remaining sleep out of her eyes.  

Letting out a last yawn, she turns towards Tikki who gave her a warm smile.

“He’s going to need you, you know.” Tikki hints before disappearing back to her hiding spot on Marinette’s person. Marinette turns to the monitors to see the family surrounding the poor teen in the kitchen. She sighs, this will continue to be a long night.

Making her way down to the living room, she couldn’t help but smirk at the mini-feud between the girl and Dick.

“You can’t keep me here against my will. It’s kidnapping.” Their mystery guest remarks pacing in front of Dick.

“Call it a precautionary.” He answers keeping his cool.

Marinette rolls her eyes and decided to make herself known. “She’s right you know. It is kidnapping.”

The designer takes a seat next to her brother-figure and examines the girl. Near white hair, every Asian feature much like herself. It looks like she’s been on the run for quite some time.

“That doesn’t matter,” Dick said to Marinette before turning his attention back to the girl. “I saw what you can do out on the streets. Look like you might need some help.”

“You’re not making things better.” Marinette murmurs under her breath, pursing her lips deciding on whether to say and be a mediator or leave and come back later. She knows that the girl wanted to leave, this wasn’t her kind of scenery and being with the newly proclaimed Titans just makes her a bigger target.

“No.” Marinette’s thoughtful daze crash down into nothingness when she saw Dick up from his seat. She looks between the two, wondering who would make the first move.

“If you’re going to battle, take it to the training room.” The designer begs, however, the two ignores her and goes into a calmly made argument about privacy. Marinette only groans but she watches diligently.

“Okay. Let’s start with who you are.” Dick gets up and enters a mild glaring back with the long-haired teen. “You have a name?”

Great, just great, she was being ignored again. Marinette sighs and gets up also. Can she possibly make it to the front door and leave before this gets any worse? Probably not.

“I’m going to go check on the others,” Marinette speaks up before darting down the hall and heading towards the training room. She did not want to stay in the room any longer than it needed to be.

“You should have stayed, Marinette,” Tikki speaks up from her hiding spot.

“I know, Tikki, but the tension was rising too quickly for more liking.” Marinette protested founding herself at the training room entrance. “You should hide.”

Tikki ducks her head back into her hiding spot and continues to be silent. Marinette doesn’t go in, but she does linger to listen in on the younger’s intention.

“You think she’s metahuman?” Marinette heard Rachel asks one of the boys. It was probably best for her to intercept the conversation.

“She can quite possibly be a metahuman, Rachel. But we won’t know for sure until something happens, or we get a DNA sample.”

“Mari!” The group calls out not expecting to see the newest—or would be the oldest edition to the Titans. Marinette smiles and walks to the center as Jason tries to show off some moves. She’s not impressed but she does humor the newest Robin with a smile.

“Yeah or an alien…like Kory.” Gar adds on to his statement.

“I doubt she’s an alien, Gar.” Marinette states and folds her arm.

“If she was like Kory, those cops wouldn’t be alive right now.” Rachal counters dismantling the Kory theory.

“Who’s Kory?” Marinette pipes up.

Rachal jumps a little seeing as Marinette is exactly beside her wearing a confused facial expression. Gar and Rachel eye each other.

“She’s an alien that likes Dick.” Jason chimed in moving the sword swiftly.

Marinette chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Of course,” she mumbled hoping the teens wouldn’t catch her drift behind that. “What do you think of the girl, Jason? You’ve been quiet.”

“Well she can fight; I’ll give her that.” Jason swings the sword down adding in his two cents into the conversation once more. “Whoever she is she had training.”

“Yes, and from what I’d gather she’s running from someone. No one likes that survives that long without proper training.” Marinette informed the group, but she was unsure how much she should give to the teens. If they were smart enough, they would have hacked into the mainframe to look at her information rather than sit around discussing theories. Not that she would give them that idea. Maybe they will figure it out for themselves.

“Did you guys see her eye when Dick was changing the bandage?” Gar warily asks as he was avoiding eye contact with Marinette. This prompted a gasp out of the adult.

“When did he do that?” Unfortunately, her question is ignored.

“What about it?” Rachel asks.

Marinette decided it was best to tune out the teens as they talk amongst themselves. Tikki nudges Marinette from her hiding stop causing the miraculous user to excuse herself out of the room.

“What was that about, Tikki?” Marinette asks the kwami of creation.

“They were on to something, Marinette.” Tikki urges.

“I know, but sometimes it better for them to talk it amongst themselves before dealing with head-on,” Marinette utters looking back into the training room.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Marinette hums, “No, but I will keep my ears opens. They’re smarter than what Dick gives them credit for.” The designers fold her arms and lean against the wall. Her shoulders became more relax as she sighs.

The door slides open showing Rachel leaving the room and heading in the direction of the control room. Marinette checks her phone, it was late.

“We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, Tikki. Maybe we should get some sleep.” Tikki only coughs at her chosen knowing full-well that sleep isn’t something on Marinette’s to-do list.

Making sure that Dick would be alright, she walks to the control room. As she moves closer, she could tell that Dick was in the middle of the phone call. She smiles and opts to go to her guest room.

Sighing, Marinette pulls out her sketchbook and begins drawing what looks to be an outline of a suit.

“Marinette…” Tikki trails off hovering over her chosen. However, a phone call breaks the concentration.

Marinette accepts the call and holds it with her shoulder blades to her ear. “Marinette speaking.”

“Hey Nette, how’s San Francisco?” It’s Kagami.

“Three months here and I’m indecisive,” Marinette admits, shading her design.

“It can’t be that bad. How’s Dick?”

“He’s just like he was five years ago.” Marinette pauses. “To be honest, Gami, I don’t know if this was a good idea. Too many loose ends and I fear it’s only going to get worse”

A single tear falls onto the sketch.

“You’re strong, Marinette, don’t ever forget that.”

“Thank you,” Marinette whispers being choosing to end the call with a promise of calling the woman again in the morning.

The next morning, Marinette was nowhere to be seen in the Tower. Not even for breakfast, however, she did leave a note saying that she’ll be back.

Gar and Jason took it upon themselves to look up their mysterious guest, only to find out that she’s the daughter of the one and only Deathstroke. 

Tag List:  @mystery-5-5 | @constancetruggle