#maybe I’ll write them later this week since I’ll do my papers next week

[crybaby-bkg]

I have done. the last three weeks of my homework in the past two days save for two papers. and I am so. tired. and so frustrated bc I am bursting at the seams with ideas but I just feel so drained that all I wanna do is just lay down!!!! also pmsing which doesn’t help with exhaustion levels ☹️☹️☹️☹️

[upsidedownwithsteve]

I need to know that she's going to art school in philly. A reunion, maybe Eddie helping her move. Her meeting Wayne pls. love your writing!!

The acceptance letter came and two weeks later, you were on a flight.

It had been easy to pack up another suitcase, clothes and belongings flung into the bag, shoes still stained with mud from camp, Eddie’s sweater folded on top, his mixtape in your walkman, never taken out. You packed Polaroids in the front covers of books, printed emails folded neatly between the pages, the letter from the university tucked beside it.

You’d told your parents, got yelled at and then watched them cry. It was simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing you’d ever done. You’d spent the rest of summer at home, thinking you’d craved the camp grounds, the noise, the forest. But each email that pinged into your inbox brought the same excitement and eventually, you realised that it was Eddie you missed the most.

You called him the day the letter arrived. Hands shaking on the plastic receiver, the paper clutched to your chest and you stuttered and stammered your way through an introduction when his uncle

Wayne picked up but god, the feeling that came over you when the man yelled for his nephew and said, ‘it’s your girl, son,’ was completely and utterly indescribable.

You bought your tickets the next day. You didn’t have an apartment lined up, not yet. But your parents took you to the airport and they both hugged you, told you to stay safe and call them when you landed, so things didn’t seem as scary as they once did.

Eddie told you he’d meet you in arrivals and you spent the flight wondering if he’d changed, I’d he’d looked different, if he’d feel different when you hugged him. ‘Cause it had been almost six weeks since you last saw him and almost every bit of communication you’d had with him since had been in black and white, words on a computer screen.

Philadelphia looked like the biggest city you’d ever seen from the sky, and god, maybe it’s cause it was. You’d barely strayed from Michigan before, a summer spent in a forest in Indiana the most adventurous it had gotten. The plane seemed to skim the tops of skyscrapers as it came into land, the sky blue and the ground grey concrete and littered with cars that looked like multi-colored ants.

Big bridges, long stretches of water, roads that criss-crossed over each other and somewhere, hopefully, amongst the brownstones and suburbs, would be your future apartment. You dreamt about paint colours, thrift store coffee tables, how you’d get a couch in the front door, a bed you didn’t have to make every morning.

You thought of Eddie in it, more often than not, maybe, eventually. Eddie in your kitchen, a tiny space, more than likely, Eddie at the stove, sleepy eyed and shirtless with messy hair and coffee for you and him. You thought about the boy in your bed, a proper bed that fit both of you, where you could do more than just kiss and let hands wander.

Your stomach flipped at that, heart cartwheeling in your chest. But maybe that’s just because the plane had hit the runway with a bump and a jerk and oh my god? You were in Philadelphia.

Home.

Eddie was waiting where he said he would, his last email tucked under your arm with the rest of your documents, your boarding pass, your paperwork for the rest of your luggage that wouldn’t be arriving for another few days.

‘I’ll get you in arrivals,’ he’d typed. ‘I’ll be beside the coffee shop there, there’s a huge ass plant, look for that.’

Your heart thumped to the same rhythm of the roll of your suitcase, the wheels clickclickclicking over the tiles and everyone was simultaneously moving to slow and too fast at the same time. You wondered if Eddie smelled the same, if he used the same cologne, if he’d still smell like summer and rain and smoke now that he wasn’t at camp.

Would he look at you the same way? Would he still like you? Would he still want you? Was this a mistake?

You paused, chest heaving and eyes blinking back tears that were brought on with from the familiar feeling of panic but then you looked across the lounge and saw a face in the crowd, right next to a huge fern, right where he said he’d be.

Eddie looked the same, black jeans ripped at the knees, a T-shirt with a band logo on the front that you’d never heard of, faded and sun bleached. He looked a little tan still, like he’d spent just as much time outside in the city that summer as he had at camp. His hair was the same, except he’d cut his bangs, a tiny bit squint, just like he’d told you in an email. You knew there was a new tattoo on his right forearm, a line of trees in black ink, the keast metal thing on his body, he’d said. But it reminded him of camp and summer and a second home.

You couldn’t wait to see it, you’d told him.

You were walking over before you realised, your feet carrying you across the large room with less panic than you previously had. ‘Cause looking at Eddie was like waking up on a summer morning, hazy blue skies outside your bedroom window, cotton sheets, bed warm skin, the smell of sunscreen, rainstorms from the night before, coffee through pine tree forests.

It was familiar, comforting, like home.

He saw you then, grinned like you remembered, wide and all consuming, a bright stretch of a smile across his face, dimples deepening at the sight of you. You picked up your pace when he stepped forward, feet almost tripping over themselves and you flung yourself at him, suitcase rolling away abandoned.

Eddie caught you, groaning into your neck as his arms wound themselves around your waist and he sounded relieved. He smelled the same. Like smoke and rain and summer and Eddie and you clung to him, arms a vice around his neck, squealing when he lifted you from the floor.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your skin, nose pressed to your pulse point. His voice was a rough rasp, thick with emotion. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

You nodded, agreeing, pulling back to press your nose against his, pressing a your lips to his in what was more a shared smile than a kiss - but it felt just as good, just as nice.

[jennamacaroni]

Deborah is always giving things to people, and people think because she is very rich and very capable, she doesn't need anyone to give things to her. But Ava gives her something. [you take over from here]

its been two and half years that i've been ruminating on this prompt and never have been able to figure out what this gift could be. this morning i finally found my answer. thank you for sending this prompt which i'm sure at this point you've long forgotten about <3 love u

The package arrives by courier the same evening that Deborah learns ‘My Bad’ is going to network television.  After an obscene bidding war, the purchase price from NBC Universal’s deal will be more revenue for Deborah than all 2,500 Palmetto residency shows combined.  It also happens that NBC has the Super Bowl next February, and network executives pitched the big game to Deborah’s team as the perfect lead-in to maximize viewership.

That’s how big Deborah Vance is in popular culture these days.  Big enough to follow up the most-watched television program of the year.

It’s kind of stunning, Deborah thinks, as Marcus offers her the iPad with the contract pulled up, ready for her signature.  Maybe in her wildest dreams she imagined this level of fame and brand recognition, but it was never all that realistic.  Especially not at her age.  It was impressive enough to sustain her Vegas residency as long as she did in a culture where even the most prolific actors are put out to pasture after age forty.  But here she is, about to sign the biggest deal of her career, north of seventy years old.

Josefina interrupts them before she has the chance to sign, knocking softly on the doorframe to Deborah’s office, holding a small package wrapped in a recycled paper grocery bag.  “Sorry to interrupt, Deborah, but this was just delivered.”

Deborah waves her off.  “Leave it in the kitchen, I’ll get to it later.”

Josefina turns to follow Deborah’s instructions, but something changes her mind.  She hovers instead in the entry to the office, a strange look on her face.

“What is it?” Deborah asks, studying Josefina’s frown, mind going back to Ava hovering in a similar doorway holding the envelope from Kathy back after Frank died.  She shakes the memory away and stands, holding out her hand and beckoning Josefina forward and to get on with it.  She thought this was finally over, that after nearly hitting her with the Rolls Kathy would have gotten the goddamn message.

Josefina enters but stops short of handing it over.  She looks Deborah clear in the eye and says, “It’s from Ava.”

Ah.

Deborah isn’t sure if anyone on her staff is still in contact with her ex-writing partner, but it’s been six months since Deborah fired her on that Hollywood rooftop.

First came the denial:  Ava teary eyed on a night that she should have been celebrating, not believing Deborah’s words.  I can do three months severance and extend your health insurance for six.  Then came the anger, weeks of indignant and resentful texts and voice messages, Ava at her worst poking at every tender part of Deborah she knew, which is just about all of them.  Deborah never once wrote back.  Then bargaining for her job back, even when Deborah knew she was doing just fine writing for television back in LA, that she was even becoming pretty successful.  Then came the weeks where Deborah heard nothing at all, Ava’s messages stopping completely, no updates on any of her social media that Deborah most definitely didn’t keep checking, just to make sure.  Ava’s name in the credits became the only way Deborah knew she was still out there, still okay, still working.

Deborah clears her throat, swallowing down the acute tightening, ignoring the quickening of her heart rate.

“I’ll take it,” she says, curtly, “give me a minute.”

“I already opened the champagne Jimmy sent,” Josefina explains, handing Deborah the box across the desk.  This was a night for celebration, but Deborah suddenly feels like anything but.

“I said, give me a minute,” she snaps, more forceful this time.  Her tone clearly hits the mark because Josefina and Marcus share a knowing look before seeing themselves out.  The contract, Jimmy, the champagne, it can all wait.

She sits back in the opulent wing-backed chair and lets out a long exhale, holding the small wrapped package and measuring its weight.  There’s not much to it really, just wrinkled paper, crooked lines of clear packing tape, and Ava’s chicken scratch with her name and address.

She unwraps it carefully, like she’s afraid of what might be inside.  There’s a plain white envelope with Deborah’s name written small in the center and a box for a pair of noise canceling headphones.  She slips her finger under the seam of the envelope, tearing it open.  A piece of note paper is tri-folded inside, Ava Daniels in neat block printing stamped along the top of the personalized stationery.  Deborah chuckles, thinking Ava has come so far from writing solely on post-its.  The note is simple, Ava’s messy handwriting in black ink in the center of the page:

For your collection. - Ava

Deborah opens the box but there are no headphones inside, only a bunch of balled up paper surrounding an oblong taped up ball of bubble wrap.  Contained within are two ceramic figures, an unlikely pair:  it’s quintessential Deborah in her favorite updo wig, a pants suit dusted in golden glitter, complete with golden high heels and microphone in hand.  The other is a slightly shorter and paler figure with short auburn hair, striped t-shirt, high waisted jeans, and thick black Doc Marten boots.  The tiny Ava is holding a small black notebook.  They’re both laughing, and if placed side by side, the salt and pepper shakers turn slightly into one another, like they’re leaning in and sharing a raucous joke.

Deborah tears up, staring down at them centered on the desktop, Ava the pepper to her salt.  The other half of her pair.  She misses her desperately then, and if she’s serious with herself, has been for the past half of a year, never letting herself truly sit in those feelings until now.

She picks up her phone, squints at the screen through tears, and pulls up Ava’s contact.  Before she knows what she’s doing, Deborah hits the call button.

The phone rings twice, then is sent to voicemail.

The recorded message says, “It’s Ava, drop it like it’s hot.”

Deborah clears her throat.  She has no idea what she even wants to say.  I miss you.  I’m living my dream, I’m famous as hell, about to be more rich than ever, but I’m not happy.  Not without you.  Please come back.  None of it is worth it without you.

But that would be selfish.  Ava is doing fine, thriving even, without Deborah.  She needs to let her be.  Instead, she says, “Hey, it’s um, it’s me.  I got your package.”  She sniffles, swallowing tears.  “They’re perfect.  Thank you.”

She hangs up.

After her hands stop shaking and she’s gathered herself, Deborah carries the shakers to the wall of china cabinets where her collection is fully lit and on display.  She makes room right in the center one at eye-level and sets them together, close enough to touch, their heads leaning into one another.

A few moments later Deborah signs the contract and the house celebrates, Jimmy toasting Deborah and her accomplishments over the phone to a bottle of Dom Perignon, a vintage for 1976, the very year Deborah filmed the late night pilot and ended up starting her stand up career.

If anyone notices the new addition to the salt and pepper shaker collection, no one mentions it.

[fictionalmenxyn]

College Life, pt.2

(College student!rugby player!Ghost x college student!art student!Y/n)

Summary: Y/n shears a dorm room/apartment with the one and only Ghost one of the top three best players in rugby. Although he’s quiet he’s quite popular and well known, you aren’t so much. You two have been very close since Ghost made the first move but does Ghost what to take things further?

Tw: contact sport (no injuries) and I don’t think there are anymore but if they are plz let me know by a message <3

Idk maybe a part three like last time depends if I can fit it. Also if f/n pops up I mean it as friends name :)

It’s currently third lesson, you are walking with your friend, f/n. You both had the same lesson together which was history. As you both walked in and sat in your usual spots you both pulled out your folders and started to work considering you were doing your coursework. You were chatting and working as time went on; about halfway through the lesson there was a knock at the door. You didn’t bother looking since you were going to loose the sentence you had thought about and if you didn’t finish that sentence you’d forget (relatable irl). You placed the pen on the paper as you dotted a full stop to finish said sentence. Then you had heard your name be called. You looked over to see Ghost next to your teacher; you spoke “yes, miss?” She replied “Ghost needs you a minute” you looked over to him and got out of your chair and started to walk towards the two. Once you two stepped foot outside the classroom and shut the door he spoke “can I ask you a favour?” You politely asked “what is the favour?” He answered “since I know your really good at drawing and like really good at it. I told my coach about your drawings and he has asked if you could maybe draw us a new team badge?” You smiled at the fact he had told someone about you and your art as that was your best quality. You spoke “is there a specific day I need to do it by?” He responded “uhh about two weeks time?” You nodded and spoke “I can do that, I just need to know what he wants to be on the badge and what style he wants it” Ghost nodded and spoke “if you meet me at mr.James room at lunch he’ll probably write a list or something” you smiled and nodded. Surprisingly he had pulled you into a hug and spoke “thanks Y/n/n. This means so much” you spoke happily “glad to help, and thanks for the hug. Didn’t expect you to do that” you both chuckled and he spoke “well.. I’ll see you later, eh?” You nodded and watched him walk down the corridor (hallway). You went back into class and over to your f/n to continue doing your work. They had asked what he wanted so you told them and they smiled knowing if you two were together it would be a perfect match. Sometime later, the bell went and now it was fourth lesson and the lesson was maths. Walking in you saw the usual smart ones already there, which was nothing new. You sat in your seat knowing you were on your own, due to your other friend being off from illness. Grabbing your book you placed it on the table. But in the corner of your eye you saw someone sat next to you; looking to your left you saw Ghost. You spoke “so your sitting by me today?” He jokingly said “do you not want me to?” He chuckled while you spoke “yes.. well, I’m just wondering because I thought you’d sit with your friends?” He once again chuckled and spoke “well they can sit on the desk in front and next to me, if you don’t mind?” You spoke “not at all, I’m friends with most” little did you know he actually smiled under his mask. Now working, your pen had seemed to run out. You mumbled to yourself “damn it” Ghost placed a pen on your book and spoke “here have my spare one” you smiled and thanked him. Gosh your falling for him hard you thought, you also thought about how most people were intimidated by him but he never was like that to you through your eyes. Once you had finished all your work you checked to see if Ghost was done and he had just finished. You spoke “after lunch I’m going home” he looked down at you since there was a height difference. He spoke “ok” you asked “want me to make you something or get you anything from the shop?” He shook his head and replied “no thanks” you nodded and turned to face the front again. You watched and listened the boys talking about random topics and joined in on a few when they asked for your opinion or thoughts. After that the bell had rang and you grabbed your bag and followed Ghost as you both went to Mr.James room. Once you both got there Ghost knocked on the door and waited to be beckoned in. You and Ghost stood by the teachers desk as he wrote a quick list of things to be added to the badge. Then you went home…

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to request or message me if you want me to write anything.

Have a good day/night! 🫶

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 20 - Trial & Error

Tsuzuru: Good morning.

Young Man: Good morning.

Tsuzuru: (I mean, this thing is aimed at younger scriptwriters, so I guess it makes sense that there’s a bunch of 20-somethings here.)

Tsuzuru: (Well, but none of them seem like they’re college students, so maybe I’m the youngest one here…)

Madoka: Ah--.

Tsuzuru: Huh!? You’re participating in this training camp too, Madoka?

Madoka: Kamikizaka-san introduced me to it. So you’re here too, Minagi-san.

Tsuzuru: It’s nice to see a familiar face. Glad to be working with you.

Madoka: Likewise.

???: Alright, let’s get things started.

???: Once again, I look forward to working with you all for the next two weeks starting today. Let’s start with self-introductions first.

Akazaki: I’ll get us started--I’m Akazaki, director and playwright. I also run a theater company called “Hako”.

Akazaki: I started doing this scriptwriting training camp ten years ago.

Akazaki: The core idea of this camp is that young scriptwriters can learn a lot by thinking about scripts from the point of view of a director.

Akazaki: This workshop is a place for young scriptwriters to interact with each other, so let’s all work together with a little friendly competition. I look forward to seeing your work.

Akazaki: Alright, your turn.

Tsuzuru: I’m Tsuzuru Minagi, actor and in-house scriptwriter at a theater company called MANKAI Company. I’m glad to be here!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Akazaki: To start, I want you to come up with sixty plot ideas with the theme of “theater”. Your time limit is one hour.

Tsuzuru: Si…!?

Madoka: Sixty…

Akazaki: Each of your ideas should be conveyed in 100 characters or less. Alright, your time starts now.

Tsuzuru: --Gh.

Tsuzuru: (We’re being thrown off the deep end right off the bat. So the theme is “theater” huh… And I need to turn that into an entire plot--.)

Tsuzuru: (Nope, no time to dwell on it. I’ve got an hour to come up with sixty of these, so I’ve gotta crank out a plot a minute… Everyone else has already gotten going on it, so I’ve just gotta give it my best shot.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Akazaki: Alright, time’s up. That should’ve been a good brain exercise.

Akazaki: Okay, now, take the plot ideas you just wrote out and swap them with someone.

Tsuzuru: (Swap them…?)

Akazaki: Everyone have someone else’s ideas? Then go ahead and pick three of the ideas you think would be interesting to see.

Tsuzuru: (Someone else’s…!? Wait, no way, does that mean I don’t get to pick what I’m going to write about…?)

Akazaki: Once you’ve picked them, return the paper to its original owner.

Akazaki: Once you have your paper back, pick one idea from those three. You then have one hour to put a full plot together.

Madoka: Um, here’s yours, Minagi-san.

Tsuzuru: Ah, right. You’re the one who picked for me? Thanks, Madoka.

Tsuzuru: (T-These are the three he picked!? I never would’ve chosen those myself. But, I guess they are pretty Madoka-like choices.)

Tsuzuru: (Whatever, I’ve got an hour to pull together a plot. I guess I’ll go with this one since it seems like the easiest one to flesh out…)

Tsuzuru: (God, who even comes up with an idea like this…? Well, me with a time limit, apparently…)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Akazaki: Hmm, I see…

Akazaki: I can tell that you were trying to keep things in your comfort zone and there are places where it’s obvious that you were running out of time.

Tsuzuru: Ah… right.

Akazaki: But it’s important to have your comfort zone, and I can tell you that it was kind of unlucky that you had to be dragged out of it for this.

Akazaki: I know it’s natural to want to use your usual style or follow your same techniques, but if you make an effort to throw in new things every once in a while, you can throw a few more tools in your toolbox for you to use later on.

Akazaki: Sometimes you need to be confronted with a more forceful approach like this, that way you can learn to take hits like this more easily.

Tsuzuru: Yeah, I know that already…

Tsuzuru: (It’s important to be able to stand my ground, but that doesn’t mean I can be defensive all the time…)

Akazaki: By the way, why did you decide to come to this training camp, MInagi-kun?

Akazaki: With an in-house position, you’ve got a stable place to write, so is there really a need for you to venture into the outside world?

Tsuzuru: I may have a stable place to write, but I’m always wondering how I can grow more. For my own sake, and for my troupe’s sake.

Akazaki: I see. Well, I think having that kind of greed is a good thing.

Akazaki: This training camp is a workout for your brain, like a real athletic event, so try not to burn yourself out.

Tsuzuru: Right, an athletic event… I was already kinda getting that feeling.

Akazaki: So, that said, why don’t you try and fix this thing starting from the beginning?

Tsuzuru: --U-Understood.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsuzuru: Aghhh… I’m exhausted…

Tsuzuru: (My brain is fried… I never want to write a single hiragana, kanji, or any other character ever again…)

Madoka: Good work.

Tsuzuru: You still seem pretty lively, Madoka.

Madoka: Do I…? Maybe it’s because I’m used to writing a lot quickly.

Madoka: In the past, my father used to make me do a lot of sudden script revisions, so…

Tsuzuru: That must’ve sucked…

Tsuzuru: But I see… I don’t have a whole lot of experience with having to make revisions like that.

Madoka: I don’t know whether I can say it was a good experience or not, but… I feel like it gave me some more strength for things like this.

Tsuzuru: You sure are resilient…

Madoka: Some of the other participants seemed to be pretty used to writing a lot. It’s probably because a lot of them have experience writing for a lot of different things.

Tsuzuru: That’s true. They did give off the vibe of pros who write scripts for a living.

Tsuzuru: (I’m still just an inexperienced student. The only experience I’ve had writing outside of the company was with Otomiya-san…)

Tsuzuru: I’ll just take all of this as I sign that I still have room to grow.

Madoka: I still have a lot to learn to aim for the new Fleur Award, so… Let’s both do our best.

Tsuzuru: Yeah.

Tsuzuru: (Madoka’s also trying to grow as a scriptwriter for GOD-za. I need to get fired up like that again too.)

Madoka: Well then, good night. See you tomorrow.

Tsuzuru: G’night.

Tsuzuru: (The thing with the way I write scripts is that I just do the same thing I always have, but it’s still kinda refreshing to learn more about how other people write them.)

Tsuzuru: (I’ve really used up all my braincells, but it’s pretty interesting experiencing a new world like this.)

Tsuzuru: (Oh, right, I should check in on the group chat before I sleep…)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

tsuzuru has entered the chat.

Curry: thanks for the suit

TorORo: you hAveb tkaen your Firstn stepn into becominf a busineeSsman! (1)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsuzuru: (I’ve got no clue what Citron-san is trying to say, but what else is new… And what kinda name is “TorORo”…)

Tsuzuru: (…I feel like I could write up some material for Citrun with that.)

Tsuzuru: (Can’t believe I felt like I couldn’t even write another character a moment ago. I’ll just jot down some quick notes before I sleep.)

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

• • •

T/N:

(1) Citron’s name in the chat is “都呂々” (Tororo) which is just the name of a town in Japan. I think what he was probably going for was to have his name as “トロロ” (Tororo, just in katakana) as like, a play on his name? Because like, シトロン (ShiTOROn) so it’s like taking the “トロ” (Toro) part of his name and turning it into “Tororo” as a nickname. I decided to translate it as “TorORo” because like, “都呂々” has the pronunciation he was probably going for, it’s just not quite the right way to write it, so I figured the best way to convey that was through weird capitalization as opposed to it being misspelled.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Laigan oneshot - Date night

Recommended by Only_Stxr on AO3 <3

When Logan and Aiden had started dating, no one expected it. The two didn’t really hang out or talk to specifically just each other when they were all as a group. 

However, as it turns out, the two have been texting a lot. Even calling, something Logan is terrified to do. 

Calling wasn’t so scary with Aiden, though. They like to face time and Aiden just rambles while Logan does some studying. It’s nice. 

“And that’s why banana candy doesn’t taste like actual bananas!” Aiden said, concluding a hyperspecific topic he knows a strange amount of details on. 

“Interesting! Didn’t know you knew so much about horticulture. Maybe you should work for my grandparents.”

“If I could see more of you, sure!”

Logan went quiet. 

“Logan, are you flustered again?”

“Um… s-so, how’s your homework going?”

“Finished it all already.”

Logan chuckled. “Where do you get the time?”

“Magic.”

“Ha..”

The two go silent for a moment, only filled by the writing of Logan’s fountain pen.

“So, Starshine, are you busy tomorrow?”

Logan snorted at the nickname. Aiden had started calling him that when they watched the Johnny Depp Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The name just kind of stuck. 

“Tomorrow? Um.. I’m working at my grandparents’ shop from 11-4. Why?”

“I wanna have a date!”

Logan jolted from his desk so fast that papers fell. “A date?”

“Ya! A proper one! We haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“I…” He fiddled with the strings of his pajama pants. “Where would we go..?”

“The amusement park I was thinking!”

“Oh.. like.. rollercoasters, or..?”

“YEA!”

“Oh..”

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you hold my hand so you won’t get scared.”

“Aha.. all right. As long as we go on the ferris wheel.”

“Of course!”

There was a pause before Aiden speaks. 

“So, I’ll see you at 4:30 tomorrow?”

“Ya. I’ll see you.”

“Prepare to have lots of toys won for you!”

“Aiden, my stuffed animal collection is already huge!” Logan said, laughing. 

“Well, tell them to prepare for some new friends.”

He snorted. “Good night Aiden. I’ll see you in the phantom world.”

“Hardly,” he whined. “Too busy fighting and stuff.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

Logan hung up because he knew that if he waited for Aiden to do it, they’d be on the phone for another 10 hours. 

Aiden was definitely right about them not getting to hang out in the phantom world. But that’s not too surprising. It’s always like this. Aiden usually has to do checkups on the base and Logan has to do patrols. 

“So, you and Logan are dating?” Taylor asks, walking with Aiden. 

“Yep! 3 weeks and 4 days!”

“That’s so cute! I had no idea you guys liked each other!”

“Well, yknow, Logan’s pretty shy and I’m respectful enough to not embarrass him.”

“Aww. You can be sweet when you want to, Aiden.”

“I’m always sweet!”

The two continued with their jobs and eventually the next day came. Logan was up bright and early like he always was. Went on his morning walk, feeding the neighborhood cats, making breakfast for his grandparents, and getting ready for his work. His normal morning routine. 

Aiden was awake ever since he woke from the phantom world. He rarely ever falls back asleep after that. He played Minecraft until the sun came through. Ben had walked in on him and gave him a concerned look before bringing him to the living room to have him do morning stretches with him. Ben did these every morning. Then Aiden ate the sugariest cereal ever to get his day started and debated opening a Red Bull, but decided not to yet. 

Then he spent the rest of his day being stuck in waiting mode. That’s his struggle. Everytime he’s doing something later in the day, he has trouble doing anything else. All he can do is really stare at the clock. 5 minutes feel like 5 hours and it’s like being stuck in limbo. 

He tried to pass the time by playing GTA and Call of Duty, but he still checked the clock every 10 minutes. 

Finally, it got to 4:00. He changed out of his pajamas, which he had been wearing all day, into a black t shirt, jeans, converse, and a hoodie.

“Hey, Ben, I’m going to be heading out!” Aiden said as he started walking to the door. 

Ben got up and stopped him. 

“Huh? What?” Aiden looked confused, tilting his head.

Ben pulled out a box of chocolates and then handed Aiden a note. 

At least give your date a gift. 

Aiden laughed, taking them. “I was going to win him tons of prizes.. but, chocolates aren’t a bad idea. Thanks, Ben.”

He then started walking to the amusement park. One of the perks from moving from the city to a small town? You can walk everywhere. And enjoy the scenery too! Lots of trees and grass. Neighbors already had Halloween decorations hung up. It was cool to see it all. It wasn’t something he was used to. 

He finally reached the amusement park and there he saw Logan in the front. He was wearing a cobalt blue sweater that made him look so huggable. Then again, Logan always looked huggable. And the best part is that Logan lets him hug him!

So, the first thing he did was wrap his arms around him, startling Logan who had not seen Aiden. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he said, grasping at his heart. 

“Hey to you too, Starshine!”

Logan shook his head and stopped shaking from the scare. “I got you your ticket,” he said, handing it to Aiden. 

“Thanks! And I got you chocolate!”

“Oh.. thanks.”

“What? What’s the face?”

“Just.. wasn’t expecting it. Now I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me your presence. That’s good enough.”

The two grasped hands and went in. 

“Oh wow.. it absolutely packed,” Logan said, trying to sound like he’s joking but his voice is still very tense.

“Ya, no kidding. Cmon, let’s look for the shortest line!”

“Ah, w-wait!”

Aiden dragged Logan off to explore the fairgrounds. 

“C-can we stop running?” Logan exclaimed. 

“Huh?” Aiden came to a sudden halt; causing Logan to crash into him, the two nearly falling. 

“Sorry!” Aiden said, laughing his ass off as he smooshed Logan’s face with his hands. “You’re not hurt, right?”

“No.. I’m fine,” Logan says awkwardly. 

“Kay!”

He glances over and see a booth selling some AWESOME stuffed animals. Huge, fluffy ones. 

“Oh. My. Gosh. Logan, I’m gonna win you that prize!” 

Logan follows his finger and sees him pointing toward a giant shark stuffed animal. It was actually kind of perfect. It was really derpy looking. Plus, Aiden and Logan have both been hyperfixating on ocean life recently, going in long rambles about what they had learned and theories about the deep. 

“Um.. ok,” Logan said, smiling excitedly as he followed Aiden to the booth. 

They stood in line for a couple of minutes, during those minutes, Aiden did cool hand tricks, like clasping his hands, bringing his middle fingers downs, and twisting his hands. Logan laughed. It was such a simple trick, yet Aiden’s face was so silly as he did it that he couldn’t help but find it hilarious. Aiden always managed to make things really funny. 

Finally, it was their turn. Aiden slapped a dollar onto the table and picked up the water gun. “Ok, lemme just..” Aiden took a moment to finally aim and shot the water into the clown’s mouth, the balloon slowly filling up. But Aiden’s hands had trouble staying still, causing him to get off track and eventually he ran out of time. 

“Huh?! No!! Let me try again!”

Aiden tried at least 3 more times, failing those as well. 

“Nooooo!!!”

“Sir,” said the man at the booth. “Please hurry up and give someone else a turn.”

“Nooooo!”

Logan smiles nervously and places a dollar on the stand. “May I try?”

The man shrugs. “Go on ahead, kid.”

Logan picks up the water gun and closes one eye as he aims. Once he finds the perfect position, his muscles completely locked together, the only thing that moved was when his finger pulled the trigger, the water shooting straight forward, not moving at all. 

The balloon popped right before the alarm. 

“Hey, good job,” said the man.  “Which prize do you want?”

“I’ll take the shark.”

Once Logan was handed the shark, he turned to Aiden, smiling. Aiden’s jaw was on the floor and blushing like an idiot. “I.. always forget how good an aim you are,” Aiden says after composing himself, taking the shark and burying his face into it. “So soft!!”

Logan laughs. “Where do you wanna go now?”

Aiden’s eyes shone and he smiled mischievously. “Roller. Coaster.”

“Oh dear.”

“It’s ok! I’ll make sure you can stay safe and sound!”

“That’s.. not exactly the point.”

“Haha, cmon!!”

The two got in line for a rollercoaster that was called the FUCK YOU IF YOU’RE SCARED OF ROLLERCOASTERS, BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T RIDE THIS ONE, YOU’RE LAME AS HELL. 

The name of it definitely made Logan not feel great about himself. 

“Uh, sir, you can’t go on with such a big stuffed animal,” said the ride operator. 

Aiden hissed, actually hissed, which made Logan snort, and pressed the shark to his chest. 

“It goes where I go.”

“Well.. since it’s the size of a human, you and your buddy will have to go in two different seats.”

“H-huh?!” they both exclaimed. 

The ride operator shrugged and Aiden hesitated before reluctantly handing it to her. “Guard it with your life,” he said in a threatening tone, which actually managed to freak the operator out a little. 

The two got in their seat, Logan shaking and grabbing Aiden’s arm. 

“This is going to be so fun!” Aiden said at the same time as Logan said, “This is going to be terrifying!”

The speaker went over some rules to stay safe on the ride, then there was a count down, then started to slowly move. 

Logan began breathing fast, shaking uncontrollably. Fuck. He’s literally fought against demonic-like creatures. Why is this affecting him so bad?

He felt Aiden squeeze his hand. “It’ll be ok, Starshine,” he says before giving him a big, toothy smile. 

Logan squeezed Aiden’s hand so hard, Aiden was sure he would have some broken bones. 

Finally, they reached the peak. Logan sucked in a sharp breath and screamed as they dove down at top speeds. 

Aiden was whooping and cheering and laughing, throwing his hands into the air while still holding Logan’s hand. 

The wind was overwhelming and Logan used his other hand to keep his glasses in place. Fuck, he should’ve taken them off before getting on!

Once the ride came to a stop, Aiden was laughing and kicking his legs giddily. “Oh my gosh, that was awesome!!”

He hopped off and helped Logan get off; who was shaking like a leaf. “You ok, Lo?” he asks, laughing, concerned. 

“You owe me a Ferris wheel ride..” he grumbles, looking down and trying not to throw up. 

“Haha! Yes, I do. Cmon. Let’s go get something to eat, first.”

“Hnghhh…”

Aiden retrieved his shark and they went over to the food court. 

“Oh, it all smells so good!”

“Hmmmm…” Logan whimpers slightly, the idea of eating sounds awful. 

“You good?”

“I just need to.. sit down..”

“Right..” They sat down at a bench, Aiden rubbing Logan’s back while Logan had his face buried in his hands. 

“You feeling any better?” Aiden asks. 

Logan shakes his head, his face buried in the stuffed animal.

Aiden nearly frowned, but stopped himself. “Wait here.”

He got up and quickly ran to a booth. It was just a ball throw to knock over some cans. Easy as hell. “Um, here,” Aiden says, putting some money on the stands. He won with ease, knocking over every can. 

“I want that toy,” Aiden says. 

As he walked off, he also stopped to grab a water. 

When he comes back, he spots Logan. 

“Hey, Starshine..”

“Hm?” Logan looked up. Aiden handed him a water, which he quickly downed. 

“I also got you this.” He held up the stuffed down. A star with a pair of sunglasses on. 

“Pffft.. silly,” Logan says, taking the toy and squeezing it. 

“Does it make you feel better?”

“I think the water is making me feel better.”

“Aaaand the toy?”

He snorted. “And the toy.”

Aiden ruffles Logan’s hair and Logan finally starts to feel better. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel,” he says, standing up. 

Aiden takes the shark plushie and nods. “Kay!”

They walked through the fair grounds and got in line. 

“I think our stuffed toys are dating,” Aiden says confidently. “They are super in love.”

“They don’t even have names, Aiden.”

“Ok.. mine is… CHAZ!”

“Chaz the shark? All right. And I’ll name mine.. Spock!”

Aiden laughs. “Of course.”

Finally it was their turn. Aiden decided that one side of the Ferris wheel, the stuffed animals could have that bench. 

“Like they’re on a date!”

Logan ducks his head and smiles a little. “You’re just doing that so we can sit on the same bench, aren’t you?”

“Haha.. I am not slick, huh?”

“Not really,” he says, laughing. 

The two sat next to each other, Aiden hugging Logan tightly. Logan rests in the hug for a moment before twisting a little to look out the window. 

“Not many stars..” he murmurs. “Curse you light pollution..”

Aiden also looks out the window. He notices Logan’s disappointment. “Is that why you wanted to go in the Ferris wheel? To star gaze?”

“Maybe.. it sounded romantic.”

“Hmmm…” Aiden rests his chin on Logan’s shoulder, looking out the window on his side before turning to look out his own. By the lights from the fair were too bright. He squints, trying his best to find something before jumping up. “Logan! Logan!”

“Huh?”

Logan turns and looks at the sky through Aiden’s window. 

“I don’t see anything..”

“A shooting star!!”

Logan squints and then spots it before smiling. “That’s.. a plane, Aiden.”

“Oh..” Aiden looks down, smiling but clearly embarrassed. 

Logan leans in and kisses his temple. 

“Nice try, though.”

“O-oh!” Aiden exclaims, not expecting the kiss. “That was..” He rubs the spot. “A very welcome surprise.”

Logan smiles shyly and the two grasp hands. Logan liked how Aiden could be so casual sometimes. He knew that Aiden was probably screaming on the inside, but he was able to remain somewhat level headed for Logan’s sake.. somewhat. Logan could feel Aiden shaking from buried excitement. 

“Hey.. Aiden. Wanna come to my place?”

“Huh?”

“We can watch Interstellar! I’ve been wanting to get you to watch it.”

“Ya, sure! I’d love to.. wow.. it’ll be the first time we’ll be hanging out at one of our places alone. Excitinggggg!” he says, shaking Logan by the shoulder. 

The ride comes to an end and they grabbed their stuffed animals and stepped off. “The air has really cooled off,” Logan said, shivering slightly. “Guess it is that time of year. Should’ve worn a thicker sweater.”

“I have been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Huh?” Logan turns to Aiden to ask what he was talking about but his eyes widened when he saw him removing his hoodie. 

“What are you doing?! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“I’m durable, remember?”

“Aiden, seriously. I’ll be fine.”

Aiden shakes his head and puts it on Logan. “There we go.”

“Are you not cold?”

“Lo, I’m like a heater. It’s a Clark family trait. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine.. at least hold my hand to keep those warm.”

“Ohhh, that was smooth,” Aiden says, taking Logan’s hand. 

“I wasn’t even trying to be smooth.. I guess I just got lucky.”

The two grasp hands and began to walk to Logan’s place. 

“Hey.. Lo.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for dating me.”

“Um… y-you’re welcome?”

“I really mean it! I didn’t realize I was so into nerdy guys! You’ve opened my eyes!”

Logan snorts and shoves his shoulder into Aiden’s. “Stoppppp.”

They look at the Halloween decorations of the neighboring houses. 

“What’ll you dress as for Halloween?” Aiden asks. 

“Probably Spock..”

“You and Star Trek.”

“What’ll you be?”

“I was thinking of dressing as a phantom.”

“Seriously?! Why?”

“I think it’s a total power move.”

“Oooof course.”

When they reached Logan’s house, Logan put a finger to his mouth. “Be sure to just be as quiet as you can. My grandparents like to go to bed early.”

“Kay.” But they both knew Aiden probably would shout at least 10 times during the movie. He has no volume control. 

The two entered Logan’s room and Aiden was awestruck. Fairy lights, star stickers, a huge bed covered in blankets, stuffed animals, and pillows, posters covering the walls and a whole glass jar filled with fancy pens (Logan likes collecting fancy pens). 

“This is the greatest room I have ever seen in my life.”

Logan laughs and grabs his laptop. He sits on the bed and pauses for a moment. “Wait.. are we going to cuddle?”

Aiden tilts his head and chuckles. “Ummm.. I thought that was the plan?”

“I-I didn’t even think about it! I just wanted to watch the movie and unwind!”

“Do you not want to cuddle?” Aiden asked, failing to hide his disappointment. Physical touch is his love language. 

“Yes? No? I-I don’t.. I-“

Aiden cut him off by plopping himself on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Took too long to answer,” he declares. 

Logan freezes for a moment before realizing just how warm Aiden was. “You really are like a heater!”

“Told ya!”

Logan manages to loosen up a little, pulling the movie up and the two wrapping up in the blankets. Aiden was a total blanket hog, but Logan had tons of blankets, so it worked out. 

Aiden was talking through the whole movie, which made Logan a bit sad. 

He’s not interested in it.. he thought. 

But then Aiden started making comments and theories on the movie, damn near getting the entire ending right. 

“Are you.. enjoying the movie?” Logan asks. 

“Huh? Ya! It’s cool!!”

“Ok… cool.”

Once the movie concluded, Logan found himself crying. He always cried when watching this movie. Aiden was hugging the shark plushie and looked at the star stickers on the ceiling. “Cool movie! ….What now?”

“Um.. do you wanna watch Star Trek: Next Generation..? We don’t have to! I know I you probably don’t wanna watch any more of my nerd space stuff, but-“

“I wanna watch it.”

“…ok.. cool..”

They turned on the show and Logan finally was relaxed enough to lean back. The entirety through the movie, he had been sitting up. But he’s starting to feel fine now. Loose. 

While an episode was running, Logan turns his head to Aiden. “Hm.. your eye bags.. they’re pretty heavy..” he notes. “Do you sleep?”

“Uhhh.. ya? All the time. How else do I get to the phantom world?”

“You know that doesn’t count.. besides that.”

“Um… nooooooo….”

Logan pouts a little. Aiden’s never seen him pout. 

“Take them out.”

“Huh?”

“Your contacts. Take them out.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re going to sleep early.”

“Whaaaaaat?”

“Do it.”

Aiden hesitates before relenting. It was hard to say no when Logan was so serious and stern. He took them out and he had to squint at the screen to see it. 

Logan closes the laptop and rests his head against Aiden’s chest, his glasses smooshing against him. 

“Aren’t you going to take your glasses off?” Aiden asks smugly. 

“Hm.. right.. I always forget.”

“Hypocrite,” he says playfully. 

Logan places them on his nightstand. Aiden wrapped his arms around him, the two shifting a bit to get comfortable in the blankets because there were just so many. 

Once they finally got comfortable, Aiden started doing this weird thing where we rubbed his legs together like a grasshopper. 

“What’re you doing?” Logan asks quietly, chuckling. 

“It’s comfy!”

He shrugs. “If you say so. I just think it’s because you can’t sit still.”

“That too.”

Aiden buries his face into Logan’s hair, relaxing a bit. He actually started to get tired. Heavy eyelids, yawning, brain becoming static, everything. And everything is soft, and warm, and nice. And not.. lonely. Not a screen buzzing in his face and a cold empty room. 

He wasn’t alone.. and that was the last thought he had before he actually fell asleep… He fell asleep. 

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 2/?

Prev | Next

When Danny’s parents had recommended they hide out in Gotham for a while, the protest had been on the tip of his tongue. Gotham was Batman’s territory. Danny didn’t want to risk it.

“Batman doesn’t allow metas,” Danny had said instead of what he should’ve.

“But honey, you won’t be using your powers. Besides, there’s so much ambient ectoplasm that it would be hard for the GIW to hunt you down even if you accidentally use your powers for a short period,” his mother explained.

“Yeah, Dann-o, you need a place with rich ectoplasm, and Gotham city has the second highest amount of it aside from Amity.”

“But Batman is part of the Justice League. If they ignored us before, it’s because they’re fine with what the government is doing.”

Both his parents looked at each other, “We know, sweetie, but it’ll only be for a few weeks. Just enough time for you to recharge.”

For use to recharge, went unsaid.

So, Danny had given in.

Seeing his birth father in his full Batman suit, he regretted not telling his parents the truth. All of this could’ve been avoided if Danny hadn’t been a coward.

The only reason they could be here was that they knew of Danny’s half-ghost status and were going to hand him over to the proper authorities. His slow heartbeat almost reached an average person’s level out of fear.

Danny watched silently as his little family prepared to fight the Bat clan. All to defend him.

Behind Batman’s shadow, a small figure dressed in muted reds, greens, and yellows came out. Damian.

Danny felt the stab wound that had long since healed and disappeared throb on his back.

“Jack, you take Nightwing and Red Hood from afar with the ectoblasters. I’ll take on Batman and Black Bat. Kids, you guys support us in the GAV however you can. Do not leave this vehicle, understood?”

Danny studied all their determined faces. His mom could’ve been back at Fenton Works pouring over data and writing papers. His dad could’ve been inventing new ghost gadgets and fishing for ghosts through the ghost portal while eating fudge. Jazz should’ve been in college.

They gave up their lives for a boy who wasn’t related to them by blood.

Danny took the keys to the GAV and phased through it. He locked his family in and ignored their cries of alarm.

He refused to put them in further danger.

Danny walked up to Batman and Robin, his shoulder straight, “I surrender but leave my family out of this. Call the GIW and any other hunter you need to, and I’ll go quietly.”

Behind him, Danny heard his family scream out in outrage and horror at his words. He ignored them. Looking at Batman straight in his white-out eyes, Danny put his hands up so he could be led away.

____

Bruce had no idea what he would find when he came for his previously unknown son. Whatever it was, this wasn’t it.

Danyal was holding his hands out as if ready for them to be handcuffed, and the Fentons were kicking and screaming in the RV (at least, Bruce was pretty sure it was an RV).

He looked around the scene and figured that having his whole family suited up and ambushing the small family was probably not a good idea. He was better than this. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was a bad idea?

He should’ve just come with Damian and maybe knocked on their door instead of scaring the shit out of them.

They had been ready to leave, he justified it to himself.

You could’ve put a tracker on the vehicle, the logical part of his mind told him.

Bruce didn’t voice any of this or let it show on his face.

“Danyal,” the boy flinched.

“It’s Danny,” he said with anger in his voice.

“Danny, we didn’t come here to fight or…arrest you.” Bruce would later figure out why Danny thought that “We just want to talk.”

Danny looked at him in disbelief before eying Damian and the rest of the family. Everyone else started fidgeting, looking uncomfortable. Bruce knew they were coming to the same conclusion Bruce had.

They had been too hasty and let their emotions rule them.

“So, you’re not here to arrest me.”

“No, why would you think that?”

Danny’s face shut down of any emotion.

“No reason,” the boy answered.

“If this is about your meta powers, I know it seems like I hate metas, but I don’t. I don’t want them here because they would be in danger from my rogues.”

Danny stayed silent. He looked back at the Fentons; they were still trying to get out of the vehicle while spewing threats at Batman and his family.

Danny did a hand signal, and they calmed down a little though they were still tense and finding ways to get out.

Danny sighed.

“Akhi, I’m sorry.”

Danny froze; it looked as if he wasn’t breathing.

“I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve come with you. I shouldn’t have…I’m a horrible brother and a worse person.”

“Dami,” Danny whispered.

Damian started crying. Big fat tears fell from his cheeks (cheeks that still held baby fat to them). Bruce watched in horror as his youngest fell to his knees. Damian had always been the least emotional of all his children, so when he broke down crying, almost none of them knew what to do.

Danny stepped forward before stopping, “Oh, Dami.”

Danny didn’t make any other move. A part of him wanted to comfort his younger brother as he used, but he still remembered the feel of cold metal going through his back. He still remembered the feeling of betrayal as his baby brother left him a growing pool of his blood.

So, he did nothing. Danny stood there as his younger brother held himself and cried out his regret.

Danny couldn’t find it in himself to forgive his younger brother.

He knew Damian had been brainwashed (he had been six!), but Danny had been a child, too. He had sacrificed so much for Damian, and his brother betrayed him. It was hard to forgive even when, logically, he knew it wasn’t Damian’s fault.

(It was Talia’s, Ra’s; not Damian’s)

But emotions weren’t logical, now, were they?

Emotions are useless, Ra’s’ voice rang through Danny’s head.

Shut up.

“What now,” Danny asked as Damian calmed down.

Batman looked at him and then at his family behind them.

“Now, we talk.”

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo

[densi-mber]

Special Agent Plant Killer Blye

AN: Hi there¡ Set in 4x12, Paper Soldiers. This deleted scene pic is still one of my biggest missing scenes for Densi. It would have been adorable to watch them banter and then create a more intimate/friendly moment.

*Pic source: Jacqniv’ IG, 4x12 Deleted scen

e. (Hope I uploaded it as it should, lol)

 ———————————-

Densimber. Day 17 Prompt: Write a missing Kensi, Deeks, or Densi scene.

The case was solved, the day was over. It’s been a long and stressful week so the team began gathering up all their belongings to go home for the weekend. They were skipping their usual Friday’ night beer this time, still they stayed inside the mission for about an hour talking about their plans and of course, they took that moment to deepen into Kensi’s misfortune with gardening.

As usual, Deeks began naming all the plants that she killed since they first met, coming up with ridiculous stories about their death cause. Kensi tried to defend herself but Callen and Sam joined the party on Deeks’ side, so her fight was completely lost.

“Okay, I’m leaving. Please be careful and do a favor to human kind, do not get close to any living creature, plant or animal.” Callen was the first to leave, followed by his partner who also gave her a charismatic good-bye. They both hugged her as usual and she took advantage and pinched them.

“You also have something to say before leaving? Because I’m won’t be be so kind to you.” Her look was dangerous but mischievous, she was really having fun.

“Well, I think all the evidence is enough to close the Serial Plant Killer case…” He began picking up his bag, but sat in the chair looking for something in his drawer. “But as I am a charming and benevolent person, I’ll give you a chance to correct your sad history.”

“I think we need to reevaluate that charming part you’re talking about because…” She stopped talking as Deeks pulled out a box. Her curious self took her next to his partner, to investigate the box as if trying to find out what it content was.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a gift.”

“I can see that. Who’s that for?”

“For you.” His smile was different. She knew it was for her, but she wanted to hear him saying that. “You can open it here, or at home. Either way, I have to be there.”

“And why is that?” The way she continued to challenge him was encouraging Deeks to make it more difficult for her.

“Because those are the rules. You take it or leave it.”

Kensi looked serious for a brief moment, as if pondering her choices. She obviously accepted his request and chose open it at home. Deeks was tempting his fate, and physical integrity, and he also made her stop to buy dinner.

“Will I ever get home today? Can you stop coming up with ridiculous conditions?” Deeks was really enjoying having his partner on her nerves.

“Be patient Kensalina. You’ll thank me later for spending so much quality time with me.”

“You’re delusional.”

After arriving home and eating the Chinese take-out, Kensi was finally given her box. She began inspecting it, trying to find out shape and size of what was inside. “Will you open it as a normal person?” He earned a cold look.

As she opened the box, her stern face turned into a soft smile. Kensi let out a small laugh while pulling out a fake plant with a bow. After admiring it, she looked up to Deeks.

“You’ll never kill this one, and no one will ever notice it’s fake.” He was also smiling, trying to memorize her face. Her reaction was adorable.

“I should be offended.” Kensi tried to act tough but the softness in her body was hard to hide.

“It’s just like you. It’s forever strong and radiant and no one will ever crush it down, no matter how hard life is to this plant, it’ll survive anyway. And the bow it just like me, spectacular, shining and essential.” He continued smiling after his clever description of their partnership/whatever else they were. “I don’t want you to be sad about this, maybe gardening it’s not your thing but you’re great in many other.”

She didn’t expected that, though she knew he was not trying to mock her, Kensi was grateful for his words. Maybe it was the beer, the tiredness or his gesture what made her to stop her “thank-you” mid-sentence and approach him, still with the plant in her hand.

“Come here.”

“Oh you wanna a hug?” Deeks’s face of disbelief made him look so naïve, she quickly realized that he was completely taken aback.

They hugged then, taking time to relax on each other. “I really appreciate you trying to make me feel better. And I really appreciate having you as my partner.” Kensi’s face was still in his neck. He felt a tickle that made him feel so much more.

“Just as your partner? Because this bad boy could…” They both began laughing at his innuendo as Kensi tried to shut him up with failed threats.   

 ———-

 AN 2: Hope you like it and sorry for any mistakes¡ Let’s continue enjoying Densimber¡ :D

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a making a comeback

11:45pm Sunday, June 18, 2023

Went through my drafts folder today, scrolling quickly past all the posts I’ve saved for when I’ve finally finished succession and found that the last time I drafted a commonplace book post was back in early May? I may post that one later—it’s a bit of a time capsule now, and isn’t even fully finished (hence why I saved it rather than posting). but rather than wait for perfection—my lesson of the year it seems—I’ll dash off a short one here. for my own entertainment, which of course is the point.

[no read more on mobile; scroll or press J to skip]

Reading just started victoria goddard’s bee sting cake, the second book in the greenwing & dart series. jemis’ narrative voice sounds a little too much like fitzroy’s — exacerbating my prejudice against first-person narration where the pov character just kinda sounds like the author’s mouthpiece—but seeing more of ragnor bella, this area of the twelve kingdoms, these references to the Interim and the Last Emperor, remains delightful. Also about 80% of the way through ursula k. le guin’s a wizard of earthsea for the very first time, which has been a slow because I’m absolutely savoring it. one of those books that feels like it’s in conversation with Tolkien but goes about ‘let’s make magic literary’ in a totally different way.

watching the aforementioned succession. @hematiterings and I were doing a rewatch (for me; her first time) and we have now gotten up to season 4 episode 3, You Know the One, which means that there’s only one more episode before I’m in new territory. it’s been a really rewarding rewatch, even as I’ve been doing laptop work the whole time—I’m understanding characters’ relationships and the stakes of different decisions and events so much better than I did the first time.

listening for some reason this week and last I have not been able to get enough of Hildegard von Blingen’s bardcore covers. Specifically the cover of taylor swift’s willow, which is not a song I knew, cared about, or really even noticed before now? But it the bardcore cover elevates it so well? hildegard’s voice is so lovely? one of those sopranos I usually don’t quite believe are real—just a pleasure to listen to. bad romance and holding out for a hero have been on repeat as well, and pumped up kicks (buskin boots!) is so much more interesting than the original, but willow has been the one I actively searched by name.

playing d+d campaign one tonight for the first time since FEBRUARY. it was good! we laughed! R tried to seduce a jaguar! we might be starting a schism in a fantasy meso-american religion or possibly playing the ball game to avoid that! we won’t be able to play again until late July, early august! The real boss fight is—has always been—scheduling.

making look at this dining room chair I glued back together.

No after pictures yet but it was clamped for a few days and has now been back in use with no ill effects since…gosh, last weekend? so we’ll count that as a win.

working on between finishing my most recent slog of grading (32 review assignments, which I spent waaaaaay too long on out of an anxiety of needin to help them revise for their final portfolios) and the next round of grading (final exams for 385 are due…thursday, possibly? and portfolios Friday, though I expect I get many either late or with extension requests, my fault entirely), I think I have to write at least one job app for June 30 and. maybe try to slap some new stuff into ch 2. or conference paper? hm.

[yoonieper]

Update 🥴

Soooo yall I know promised the holiday fics but either a) they’re just going to be put out later or b) we might need to wait till next year… end of the semester was crazyyyy for me honestly. Thanksgiving break I did a bit of traveling, when I got back I had 3 papers and 3 exams to get done all in about 2 weeks— I’m done luckily, we’re through all the stress but now I’m on vacation and won’t be back home till Christmas so… 😬

The chances of me getting things done while I’m here is pretty slim, we’re pretty booked so I really won’t have too much time to write unfortunately… I might be able to do the Tae one I had planned because that one is short and even though it’ll be a little late, I might be able to get it out and done! I had started Jimin and Jk’s fics but they’re a bit longer and def won’t get it done before Christmas butttt maybe a delayed January post… maybe? I won’t make any promises because I’ve been so stressed basically since November and I don’t want to overdo it before the next semester starts and I have work all over again. I’ll write what I can but again like I promised things are planned and nearly ready for next year if all else fails. Pecattiphilia will be returning soon, my first part of my Jk series will certainly be posted sometime next year, working on the last two parts before I am ready to post— plus I’ll finally get back to all those unfinished oneshots I have sitting in my drafts still. 2024 I’ll be back hopefully more than ever!

Also been really sad since Tae, Joon, Jk, and Jimin all left— been an army since 2017 and I’m so used to having them in my life. Flip flopping between 2025 will be here before we know it and just dread cause it’s only been a few days and I’m this close to loosing it. It’s actually crazy, even though I didn’t start posting on tumblr till 2020 I think I’ve been working on BTS fics since the year I became a fan. That work is on wattpad and if you ever want a good laugh you can check out ‘If…’ major cringe but also a bit of a tease for my major project *hint hint cause I feel bad* A better version of it will be out hopefully soon here on tumblr! Anyway, that was to say that BTS have seriously been a major part of my life and I feel lost knowing that we have to move the next 18 months without them, many of yall probably feel the same way. I will do my best next year along with Seokjin and Hobi at filling the void a little until our ot7 returns better than ever. Miss my babies lots and ughhhh can’t wait for 2025!

tl;dr

Traveling, exams, papers kept me busy and couldn’t work on holiday fics— might be published later in January but no promises,,, working on stuff to post next year,,, missing bts like crazy, bring my babies home :’)

[littlefirefly42]

Love, Maxie

Pairing: Elmax (El x Max)

Summary: When Max's letters stop coming, El realizes she's lost the only person she's ever truly loved

Warnings: Mental Breakdown; Self harm; Su!cide (not graphic); vomiting (not ED related); Hurt no comfort

A/N: I am aware of the irony of finishing a 2000+ word oneshot for myself in less than a week and still not having finished some of y'all's requests. I'm sorry. My only excuse is that I was sad and I needed an outlet. I hope that you enjoy this while you wait I suppose.

~~~

Seven months. That’s how long it had been since Jane Hopper had seen her girlfriend. Trapped in California with not a fraction of a chance that Joyce would let her go back to visit Hawkins, she had been extremely excited when Max had visited the previous June. They had splurged on comics and ice cream, cuddling in El’s bed and reading together. Late at night, they had snuck out the window and onto the roof (with the assistance of El’s powers in Max’s case), and they stared up at the moon and the stars. A strawberry moon, Max had commented once, and El loved her more than she’s ever loved anyone. Now El was sitting alone on the roof, in the same spot, rereading the last letter Max had sent. The date at the top said September 13th, but El had gotten it on November 6th, nearly two months later. 

El,

Hey! I miss you so much! I’m glad you’ve been doing well. How did you do on that summer experience essay? I’m sure it was amazing, the draft you sent me was really good. I’m still not in school, but I’m going back in a few days. I’m not really that nervous, but I miss you so much, and I don’t exactly have a crowd of people lined up to be friends with me. Well, I have Lucas. He’s mostly over the breakup and we’ve hung out a few times this summer, so I think we’re cool now. Mike still hates me though, and Dustin just pretends I don’t exist. Steve makes them all play nice because he’s basically my mom at this point, but to be honest I don’t really hang out with any of them very often anymore. Speaking of moms, I think I might tell mine about us, if it’s okay with you. She didn’t seem too shocked when she saw Steve and Eddie together, so maybe she’d be cool? I’m starting to lose sight in my left eye again, so I’ll have another surgery in a few weeks, but apparently it’s a pretty easy one and I’ll just be in and out. Maybe I’ll tell her right before I go under and see what she says after. Also, I’ve been learning how to do wheelies in my wheelchair, I can’t wait to show you the next time I visit. Write back when you can, and tell Joyce and your brothers I said hi!

Love, Maxie

Maxie. It was the nickname El gave Max after they started dating. Less formal than Maxine, more personal than Max, more affectionate than Mad Max. Seeing it scribbled on the worn paper in her girlfriend’s scrawly, messy, beautiful handwriting made El want to sob. She hadn’t heard from Max since she received this letter. She had written back, some giddy lovesick shit about how excited she was and how much she missed her girlfriend, but there was never a reply. She thought it may have gotten lost in the mail, but three letters and two months later it finally sank in: Max wasn’t writing back. Max wasn’t coming to visit. Max didn’t care.

It was a thought El had been stewing in for the past week and a half, and it was breaking her ribs one by one. Sure, she had missed Max before then. There were nights even before the letters stopped coming that she had felt so incredibly lonely without her fiery, sharp-witted girlfriend that she cried for hours and could still taste the sorrow in the back of her throat the next morning. After November 6th, she felt a twinge of loneliness and disappointment whenever she would sort through the mail and hand Will his letter from Mike. She felt hollow waiting like that. 

But none of it compared to how she felt now, days after she realized that Max wasn’t busy, and her letter had not been lost in the mail. El just wasn’t worth her time anymore.

That hurt. So goddamn much. The setting sun was clouded over, fracturing and distributing the soft light over the horizon, and a few heavy rain drops fell onto the roof. El refolded the letter along its worn, taped creases. She crawled to the edge of the roof and slipped down into her bedroom window, being careful not to land too loudly. She placed the letter along with the others she had from Max.

“Kids! Dinner!” Joyce yelled from downstairs. Good timing too, because El didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts anymore. But as she was opening her door, something stopped her. 

“Coming mom!” Jonathan yelled back. El closed her door and locked it. She didn’t know why, but she felt different. Detached. Her hands shook as she walked back to her desk and picked up the letter.

It made a beautifully violent sound as she tore it. El’s heart pounded, and she grabbed another letter, tearing that one too. Adrenaline seized the girl, grabbing letter after letter and ripping them apart. It was raining harder now, but she didn’t close her window. She couldn’t care less about anything anymore. 

“El, come down here!” She heard Joyce call, but the voice hardly registered. She kept tearing apart letters, and when she finished she went to her book shelf and pulled out all her comic books, throwing them on the floor. Several additions of Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Elektra, and dozens more that Max had introduced her too. El fell to the ground and tore those up too, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. There was a knock at her door, but she was beyond too far gone to hear it. There was nothing outside this room. Nothing but her and the essence of Max in everything.

Max, huddled in the sheets that El threw off her bed.

Max, commenting on the movie and band posters El tore down.

Max, smirking at the flannel that, when El failed to rip with her bare hands, used her powers.

Max, braiding the soft brown hair that El weeded out from its roots.

Max, tracing the veins on the pale wrist that El scratched until it was red and raw, as if she could scrape away the feeling of being loved by someone and then suddenly and inexplicably being abandoned. 

Max, who abandoned her.

Things were breaking themselves now, shelves collapsing and lamps shattering, a reflection of the carnage in El’s mind. Someone was pounding on the door. Someone else was yelling. But El was unreachable, buried beneath layers of anger and betrayal, everything else was muffled and far away.

Thunder growled lowly outside the open window, and El found herself crawling beneath it. The cold water puddled on the floor shocked her nerves and unearthed a sorrow beneath the fury that El had been ignoring for a long time. She held herself, fingernails digging into her biceps, rain showering down on her, and drowned in the agony that was losing the one person you trusted to never leave. She may have screamed, but she didn’t hear herself. When Jonathan broke the door down with a crowbar, she didn’t flinch.

~~~

The next day, El still refused to speak. Still refused to talk about what happened, despite the best efforts of her family. Joyce had insisted she stay home from school, so she sat at the dining room table and stared through her lunch. Who knew pb&j could be so goddamn patronizing.

 She heard the motor of a truck pulling into the driveway, but she didn’t pay it any mind until Joyce shouted something from her office. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from one dimly lit room down the hallway to another, leaning silently on the doorway of Joyce’s office.

Joyce was holding a phone with one hand and scribbling aggressively in a notepad with the other, but she shifted the phone to her shoulder when she saw El.

“Honey, would you get the mail please?” She stage-whispered. “I’m waiting on a package and I think it just got delivered.”

El nodded. When she opened the front door there was nothing on the doormat, so she walked down the driveway to the mailbox. It was a cloudless day, and the blinding sun after the previous night’s storm made the air muggy and humid. There were several letters in the mailbox, as well as a newspaper and a folded yellow paper package. She pulled everything out and brought it back inside, tossing the letters and paper carelessly onto the kitchen counter and taking the package to Joyce. 

“Thanks El.” She said, then added “No bills or anything?”

El responded with a simple shrug and walked away before Joyce could add anything more to the skeleton of a conversation. When she returned to the kitchen she began sifting through the letters for anything important, needing something to occupy herself with, to save her from her thoughts. She found nothing notable, two bills, a check, some ads, and- El paused. A stuffed brown envelope from Hawkins, Indiana. At first she dismissed it, with a twinge of heartache, as another letter for Will; But the return address caught her eye. It was Max’s. Suddenly, the walls of the house felt very claustrophobic. El’s heartbeat quickened and dread rooted itself deep in her chest as she slid to the ground. Slowly, with sweaty, shaking hands, she tore the seal and pulled out the first of three papers. It was written on flowery stationary, a cruel beauty to accent the pure repulsiveness of its content.

Dear Ms. Byers,

I hope you and your family are doing well. I heard that Jonathon got his acceptance letter, send him my congrats. I am writing to share some rather distressing information with you. You must excuse the tardiness of this letter, I have been grieving and could not bring myself to write it. However, I feel that it is my moral duty, and my duty as a mother, to inform you that your daughter, Jane, is a homosexual.

El felt her chest tighten. Joyce had known about her and Max for months and didn’t seem to have an issue with the relationship, but from the tone of the letter it was obvious Ms. Mayfield didn’t feel the same. She took a deep breath, letting the fact sink in, before continuing to read.

I’m ashamed to admit that I have known for quite awhile, and only now have I had the strength to tell you. You may remember my daughter, Maxine, who came to visit you in the summer. Maxine was sick as well, and I recommend you immediately seek therapy for Jane. The two were involved in a romantic relationship, the likes of which drove my daughter to suicide several months ago.

Something stopped inside of El. She reread the last sentence three more times, looked away, blinked, and then read it again. But no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was hallucinating, the word was still there and glaring. Suicide.

I know this kind of thing is hard to hear, and you may want to deny it, but from one mother to another I think the best thing for Jane is to accept it and get her professional help. I have photocopied Max’s suicide note and enclosed it with this letter, so that you may understand the severity of the situation. Please address it immediately, before we lose another child.

My best regards to you,

Susan Mayfield

El finished reading the letter and tossed it aside numbly. She pulled out the second paper, an obituary with a picture of a grinning little kid in a yellow bathing suit, missing most of her teeth, ginger hair tangled and wet. El didn’t even bother reading it. She dropped it onto the letter from Max’s mom and pulled out the last paper. It was a slightly crooked photocopy of a lined piece of paper.

El,

I am so sorry. I know my mother will read this first, but I couldn’t care less. You should know I lied to you in my letters. I don’t speak or eat a lot anymore and I don’t leave my room most days. I miss you so much. I don’t have anyone anymore, and all the time I’m just alone with my shitty mind. After you left Hawkins the first time I thought I would be okay, and I was for a while. At least, I was better than I am now. Then you came back and I didn’t even care that the world was ending because I was with you again. And that day in the hospital, when you told me you loved me, I think it was the best moment of my life. I was so ready to give up El, but being with you saved me. When you went back to Cali I didn’t feel that same emptiness as the first time. I missed you so goddamn much, but with the letters and the visit in the summer I felt like I always had something to look forward to, and that something was always you. Nothing else, no one else. Just you. And then it all went to shit again. The guys stuck around a little after everything went down, but eventually they all kind of stopped talking to me. Steve still drives me places and scolds me for not taking my meds and all that, but we’re not really friends you know? Plus, I used to just get ignored at school, but the wheelchair has been an asshole magnet and it’s getting a little intolerable. Anyway, it doesn’t matter really. The point is I just kept feeling worse all the time. And I love you, and for a while that was enough, but eventually it just hurt more, feeling like a shell of myself until the next time I heard from you. I told my mom about us like I said I would, and she broke down and said I needed help and I couldn’t keep writing to you. She’s trying to get me sent to some clinic now, and I just can’t do it anymore. Without you, I’ve got no one. So I’m sorry, really really sorry, that I couldn’t be strong enough for you, because you sure as hell were for me and now I’m leaving you but if there’s a god he knows I don’t have a choice. I love you El, I hope you live the best goddamn life.

Love, Maxie

El’s hands shook as she placed the photocopy gently on top of the other papers. Her heart kept pounding faster and faster, and it made her chest ache. Everything was too large and too close, and yet there was a strange numbness to the overwhelming feeling, like a fight-or-flight response, a reflex. Her body was acting on its own, and her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. She lifted herself from the ground, heart still pounding, and made her way dizzily up to her room, leaving the two letters and her girlfriend’s obituary on the kitchen floor. El's room was in the same chaotic disarray it was the previous night, and still she looked around and saw nothing but Max. Everything she had destroyed in her blind rage was Max. And Max was dead. And everything was gone. And El fell down to her knees and threw up, then cried on the hardwood floor for a long time.

[rocknrollarticles]

Rory Gallagher: A Rap On The Road

HOT PRESS (December 18, 1981) Vol 5, No 25 The Rory Gallagher Interview Prose by John Waters

Sidenote: this is about 4800 words, so maybe have a little time set aside to read it. The only edits I made were changing "Donal" to "Dónal" and adding the missing "s" to "Keith Richards".

You could say that I’m excited! When I collected my first ever pay packet back in ‘74, I went straight out and flogged it on the complete Rory Gallagher back catalogue and a couple of Taste albums to boot! For the next week, I remember, I was hungry, but very very happy!

Rory Gallagher has always declined to become involved in the excesses that often seem to prevail in the rock ‘n’ roll market place. In his music, and his public persona, he has steadfastly refused to make concessions of any kind in the dir­ection of either commerciality or of fash­ion. He has remained his own man, doing his own thing, doing it well, and being successful. And while other (often less worthy and exalted) musicians have cut themselves off from their followers – isolating themselves in an aloof cocoon of bodyguards and hangers on Gallagher has always remained approachable, famil­iar, touchable.

To me, Rory has always seemed to be the antithesis of the Star Symbol for this reason, paradoxically, he has always been a hero of mine.

Yeah! You could say that I’m excited. To see Gallagher playing live is always a thrill in itself, but on this jaunt I’ll catch the final two gigs of his 1981 tour of British universities, tonight at Birmingham University, and tomorrow at Brunei in Uxbridge, London – and also meet and talk to Rory. In addition, it’s my first overseas assignment for The World’s Most Fortnightly Rock Paper and it will also be my first time to fly in an aeroplane. To mark the occasion, a colony of butterflies have organized an aeronautics display in the pit of my stomach!

And it’s still half an hour to lift off.

Later. Birmingham University: a vener­able, rambling building, with huge, oaken doors, stained glass windows, mountainous staircases and vast mazes of dimly lit corridors with contraceptive dispensing machines that never work! It’s the kind of building in which you walk half a mile to find the toilet, only to discover when you get there that it’s about twenty feet from where you started out!

Gallagher is in his dressing room when we arrive signing autographs for a couple of stray fans.

His appearance is engagingly scruffy, look­ing marginally more like an unmade bed than I do. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt; his hair is uncombed, his face unshaven. He seems slightly heavier than before, his face is fuller. Apart from this he has changed little since first I saw him, back in his Taste days.

At Rory’s suggestion, together with his brother and manager, Dónal, we adjourn to a nearby watering hole for a drink.

Down in the Gun Barrel, for that is the hostelry’s handle, we talk about Irish bands – De Dannan, U2, Bagatelle, The Bogey Boys – and it transpires that Rory’s as up-to-date on what’s happening as I am.

He admires Moving Hearts a lot, but thinks they’re beginning to be hounded for their polit­ical opinions. He defends their right to hold such beliefs and to state them in their music without constantly having to justify themselves. Nobody, he points out, questions the right of The Clash to state what are often much more superficial and less passionately held viewpoints.

By now pre gig tension is mounting. Back in the dressing room, there’s a guy who writes for the college magazine, who would like to interview Rory. His name is Damien. He’s from Omagh, a definite plus! He’s only heard of Taste from his father - a slight minus!

Rory agrees to being interviewed, however, and Damien proceeds to interrogate him about the lack of ‘Irishness’ in his material. Gallagher is cautious, and also, I suspect, slightly hurt by the tone of the question.

“Everyone knows where I’m from,” he de­clares. “And I’m proud of it, but what are you supposed to do to prove it?”

In fact, as it becomes abundantly clear to me as the weekend progresses, any criticism of Rory in the matter of consciousness of his Irish identity is manifestly undeserved. Among the most abiding memories of the trip is the way he would talk animatedly and knowledgably about Ireland, about the political situation; about, for instance, the performance of the Coalition or the lack of it; about his disappointment with the seemingly unconditional support which has been given it by the “independent” deputies especially by Dr. Noel Browne, of whom Rory is a long time admirer.

“I think he was just trying to hinge on this business of writing the great epic Irish rock song,” Rory says of his interviewer afterwards.

Does he, I wonder, have a definite stance to­wards politics, and if so, does he think it should manifest itself in his music?

“I'm not mad about political parties or pol­iticians generally,” he says. “I hate the whole system and all the rest of it. But that attitude gives you the great cop out. So that’s one side of the coin!

“On the other hand, if you have a serious discussion about the way history goes, you tend to say, well, certain people were not as bad as certain other people! Put it this way: I’m inter­ested in modern history, so therefore I’m inter­ested in modern politics; but I also know the baloney, and the crockery, and the jive and the crap that goes on.”

Does he not think his music should reflect this view?

“It’s hard to say. Most rock ‘n’ roll music is pretty apolitical. I dunno, I just do what I do. I’m not into proclamations!!”

So much for the politics, on to the poetry, the gig! Normally, I would say, a staid, almost gloomy environment, tonight the university hall is stuffed to its ancient rafters. The atmosphere is electrifying.

“I opened the door to go in,” said Dónal Gallagher afterwards, “and five people fell out!”

And he was not exaggerating!

Support band, The Rookies, have been off the stage for about twenty minutes when the lights go down, and a mighty cheer goes up. Gerry McAvoy runs on. Suddenly newest mem­ber Brendan O’Neill (whose recruitment means that it’s now an all-Irish-band – he’s from Bel­fast) is behind the drum kit. Last of all comes Gallagher, battered Strat dangling, racing on hands aloft in salute.

From here on, it’s Blitzville!

It is nothing short of incredible to think how many great songs Gallagher has written. Apart from the as yet-unreleased material that he performs, he has a vast repertoire of older stuff to draw from. So much so, in fact, that while the old favourites like “Last Of The Independents,” “Shadow Play,” “Philby,” “Tattoo’d Lady,” “Brute Force And Ignor­ance,” “Wayward Child” and “Bullfrog Blues” are coming thick and fast – it’s only afterwards that you think of all the equally good songs that he’s actually left out.

Nor has he lost any of his flair for histrionics: grimacing, strutting and tearing round the stage; or sustaining a note and tossing his plectrum six feet in the air during “Moonchild", catching it and playing on; or indulging in a bout of dueling guitars with Gerry McAvoy during “Calling Card”; or stopping singing, now and then, when he gets to a chorus, gesturing with his eyes - and the crowd comes in on cue with the hookline!

His song introductions are minimal, being confined to the occasional “here’s a little up-tempo number, hope you enjoy this one, thank you!” or some such understatement! There is a tremendous natural empathy between Rory and his audience, which eliminates the need for any explanations, introductions or other chit­chat.

One of the highlights of his shows has always been the acoustic set. Tonight is no ex­ception, and though unfortunately he no longer performs my personal favourite “Too Much Al­cohol,” nevertheless the two songs featured – “Out On The Western Plain” and a Louisiana Red song called “Ride On Red” maintain the high standard.

The others come back on and it’s more rockers – “Philby” and a blistering “Shadow Play” after which Rory unstraps his guitar, yells the familiar “thanksamillion” farewell, shakes a few hands at the front, waves goodbye and disappears.

A thousand years later, he comes back (no snow rope encores here!) and launches into “Last Of The Independents.” He disappears again, but comes back for a thundering “Secret Agent” which explodes into “Bullfrog Blues.” Then he waves goodbye again and is gone, this time for good.

Afterwards it’s meet the fans time. It takes Rory the best part of an hour to get through the long line of people stretching down the narrow corridor leading to his dressing room. He’s in no hurry. Leisurely he signs autographs, shakes hands, talks about guitars or gadgets, greeting each new arrival with a friendly “how­ya doin,” are ye alright!

I notice two Japanese girls standing near the dressing room. Later I’m informed that one of them, Mitsumi, is the secretary of the Rory Gallagher fan club. They both attend most of the band’s gigs: “Anywhere from Tokyo to London” as Rory puts it. Each night they bring along a little present for Rory - tonight it’s an exotic box of chocolate biscuits.

When the last hand has been shook, and the last album cover signed, we climb into Dónal’s Jensen and speed off through the night (do I sound like Julie Boyd?!) in the direction of London, the scene of tomorrow night’s gig. The plot is that I interview Rory in the car on the way; but a few miles down the road, fate and a flat tyre intervene, and as we discover the spare is also flat, Rory and I end up in the near­by “Watford Gap," a late night diner, while Dónal goes off in search of a garageman to re­pair the puncture.

Rory informs me that back in the old days “The Watford Gap” used to be a great meeting place for bands in the early hours of the morn­ing, after gigs. Nowadays, he jokes, bands might not like to be seen here “without their make­up!”

The restaurant, seemingly in the past a somewhat sleazy joint, has recently been re­novated. Rory jokes that he hopes the fact that it’s been “Ritzed up” doesn’t mean that the eggs are less greasy! (He needn’t have worried!) Like myself he’s a martyr for the health foods I don't think!! He orders a big plate of saus­age, bacon, eggs, beans and chips. I do likewise (though minus the eggs) and we sit down at one at one of the nice new tables, to eat and to talk.

I enquire how he came across new drummer Brendan O’Neill, who replaced Ted McKenna some months back, Ted, I understand, is now playing with Greg Lake, as indeed is Gary Moore.

“Well, I’ve known Brendan for a couple of years,” explains Rory. “He’s been living in Lon­don, and, in fact, he was the first drummer that Gerry used to play with in Belfast, and he was working with this jazz rock group called Swift, so I didn’t even know he was into playing this kind of music, but as luck would have it we played together and it worked out fine. He’d kind of gone through the jazz rock thing phase, and seemingly was interested in playing … (laughs) … whatever it is we play. I hate putting a title on it any more!”

Speak of the Devil. Brendan and Gerry, who have been traveling in another car, arrive with Peter, the band’s road manager.

It transpires that Brendan once played with an Irish showband, The Real McCoy, and this brings forth a store of showband stories, which we swap happily for half an hour. All of them unfortunately are unprintable due to the laws of libel! Sorry!

This conversation prompts me to ask Rory later if there was ever a time when he could have been sucked in irreversibly into the show­band trap. (He did, after all, spend a couple of years playing with the Impact Showband at home in Cork, while he was still at school.)

“Not really. I was extremely determined to get out, because after playing Jim Reeves’ numbers secula seculorum, you’d (shakes head)…naw!!

“Let’s put it this way,” he adds. “Mathematically it’s possible I could’ve ended up playing in a showband, but knowing myself it wouldn’t have happened. I had my fill of them up to here. When I left the showbands for good, I said ‘that’s it!’ No Way!!

“I was only there really about two years, but in that two years I got around the country, and did the Lent tour of England a couple of times. (Note for English readers: the Lent tour was a traditional annual part of Irish showbands life. The dance halls were closed during the six week’s preceding Easter, a “penance”, you see, which was strictly enforced by the Catholic hierarchy – and consequently the bands had to go to England for the duration in order to make a living!)

“And I was in Spain once too, so it was an experience and I was stuck in school, so I couldn’t complain!

“It was still a thrill to actually plug into an AC 30 Vox amp, y’know (laughs). It’s only when you start getting more serious about the music you want to play and don’t want to play, y’know. You don’t want to be going around do­ing covers of ‘Hucklebuck’ or covers of Jim Reeves, or covers of anything, really!

“You had good showbands and bad ones of course. You had a good brass section with The Plattermen, good singers with The Fresh­men, or a certain band would be terrible, but the sax player or the guitar player would be great. You’d always get that in showbands.

“But the band I was in, I mean I tried to push them into doin’ as much Chuck Berry or R‘n’B ish kind of things as possible. We used to do things like ‘Slow Down,’ ‘Nadine,’ ‘Johnny B. Goode,’ all those sort of things. So that would keep me relatively happy. But then we’d still have to do the stuff in between, a couple of pop ones, a couple of country ones, y’know.

“Of course there’s a certain amount of crack in the showbands. There’s an amazing amount of fun that goes on and carry on. But if you’re playing five hours a night and half the time you’re just plonking away, it gets claustro­phobic! And if the other musicians don’t relate to the sort of music you’re fond of its frustrat­ing.

“That’s not to say that you can be too high ‘n’ mighty. I mean the showband players have every right to work in a band like that, and they’re happy doin’ it. And you can be very cynical about it but by the same token, you have to give them credit. They’re playing music – they’re playing dance music, and they’re en­tertaining people, and I’m the first one to knock them for six but y’know, who am I to dictate?

“It’s up to yourself whether you want to go off and starve in Hamburg, or starve in London for a while, and wait for a break that is a long time coming. That's the way it goes!”

Brunel University, Uxbridge, the scene of Saturday night’s gig is a fairly mod­ern complex (or at least what I saw of it was) on the outskirts of London, in fact it’s just a plectrum’s throw away from Heathrow Airport.

Unfortunately the night is marred straight away by an instance of bureaucracy gone wild. Because they’ve got a bee in their bonnet about some previous visiting act doing damage to the dressing rooms, the college authorities are re­fusing to allow the band to have the use of this facility. As a result, Rory, Gerry and Brendan must change in of all places - a squash court!

Thus, when Rory and I sit down before the gig to conduct, as he puts it, the “meat and pot­atoes” of the interview, ensconced in two arm­chairs placed by a Super Ser in the centre of the court, and dwarfed by the sheer vastness of the environment (not to mention frozen), we could be two forlorn characters plucked straight out of some fanciful Beckett scenario, bent on some surreal existentialist spree!

In actual fact, we’re bent over a tape-recorder, and what follows is a veritable valley of questions and answers.

His new album, he reveals, is to be called “Jinx.”

Rory: “Yeah, we’ve got it recorded, it just needs mixing. It was supposed to have been re­leased in late autumn, but we were too late in finishing it. And then the tour came up, so trying to rush it out for Christmas, type of thing, would’ve been silly, because it’d just get lost in the shuffle, and you mightn’t even have done it properly, y’know. So this way is better!”

Having heard a number of the songs last night, the stomping ‘Double Vision’, the bluesy ‘Ride On Red’, to name but two, I can vouch for their quality, but what about the other songs which have not, as yet, been assimilated into the set?

“Well, let’s see. There’s a song, called ‘Loose Talk’ which we haven’t done on stage. There’s a song, called ‘Signals’, which you haven’t heard it’s a spacey, kinda fast one.

“There’s the song ‘Jinxed’ itself, which is quite slow kind of Latin blues type of feel to it. It has a kind of Latin American beat, but it’s actually a blues number. It’s quite interesting y’know, with tom toms and stuff, and it’s got a couple of saxes on it as well... it’s got quite a spooky atmosphere, that one!

“There’s a song we’ve been doing called ‘The Devil Made Me Do It’, a very fast Eddie Cochran sort of thing, not quite rockabilly, but a very fast sort of driving one. And then there’s ‘Easy Come, Easy Go’ which is a kind of a minor … I’d call it a ballad, really, but it’s a blues ballad something in the vein of ‘A Million Miles Away’. That type of stuff!”

Immediate plans involve mixing the album and hitting the road again in the New Year. There’ll be continental gigs, some in Britain to coincide with the release of the album and in Ireland around Easter, if current projections are met.

“But next year, our main aim is to try to get back to the States, and be a bit more active there,” he adds.

Gallagher obviously has lost none of his commitment to touring, in fact, he spends on average, between six and eight months on the road each year. In the past twelve months, for instance, the band has visited Australia, New Zealand and France, and also played two dates in Greece, one an open air gig in Athens, the second indoors at Salonika.

As Greece - what with the repressive junta regime that existed there up to the recent election, has never exactly been on the beaten track as far as touring rock bands are concerned (the last band to perform there were The Roll­ing Stones... in 1967!!), one might have expected some enthusiasm. In fact, at the Athens gig, there was a full scale riot!

“They expected fifteen thousand people,” explains Rory, “and that’s serious! And I said ‘well, they must be kidding!!’ I didn’t realize that you could have that amount, but as it turned out, there was twice that many, or there­abouts, but half of them were outside, and either they supposedly gate crashed, or else the police over reacted because the audience were all up on their feet.

“It was a great gig really if I say so myself and, all of a sudden, the police started getting a little heavy with the audience, things started getting a little bit hard, y’know. We were just playin’ away it really only all happened after the encore. The crowd were grand, but y’see they don’t have all that many big shows like that, and I suppose the police were nervous. There was the election coming up, as well, in two weeks or something, so I think they used the concert as an example to show how they could keep control of a crowd, or something like that

“The trouble in a situation like that is: if you get too much of the strong armed approach towards a couple of fans, it’s seen, and it goes through the auditorium or the arena very fast. Naturally enough, when the word gets out, it gets very nasty, and if you’ve got guys there with riot gear on, and stuff like that, it makes matters seem worse.

“People were hurt (300, in fact), I dunno, I only heard the reports afterwards. A couple of the police were hurt, and quite a few of the audience.

“They all made it home somehow or other, but I think they burned down a few cafes on the way!! But that’s not in my fault!”

Were there any repercussions for the band?

“We had to move lightly on our feet, be­cause there was a hint that I might be held as some sort of a trouble maker. They were talking of putting off the show in Salonika, after Athens, but that went of fairly well, there was no problem.”

Would he go back there?

“Ah I would yeah. Sure. I wouldn’t go back if the junta were back in power, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

Will he be let go back?

“Well the Socialists actually won the election out there, so I think it’ll be all right. I think it was just a nervous situation, y’know.”

Quick change of direction: does he listen much to current music?

“I'm all ears, all the time! I could reasonably claim to be fairly aware of all kinds of music. I can’t say I’m all that switched on by a lot of recent stuff, but if I’m going to criticize something, I like to actually know what I’m talking about!”

Has there been anything at all recently, that he particularly liked?

“Lemme see… I’m thinking too hard so ob­viously there hasn’t been anything. I like the Stray Cats, I liked their first album – I’m not that daft about the second one though. Costello I like a lot, but I don’t regard him as being that new at this point.”

How did he feel about Costello’s recent foray into the world of country music?

“Well I’m a country fan myself, but not of the sweeter stuff. I like Johnny Paycheck and Waylon Jennings, and I thought he was gonna do something like that, but in fact he went for the sweet stuff, the strings and voices. And the producer, Billy Sherrill, even though that TV programme (recent ITV documentary about the making of Costello’s album in Nashville - shown as part of the “South Bank Show” series) gave the impression that he was into orchestrations and all that sort of thing, on the other records he just doesn’t have all that stuff!

“Nevertheless it was a worthwhile project –you’d wonder though whether he’d have got a better result by just goin’ into a studio with Nick Lowe and a steel player, and just goin’ for more of a honky tonk sound.”

What other music does he listen to?

“In any particular week, I listen to … I could be listening to rhythm ‘n’ blues tonight, and to­morrow I could be listening to fairly contem­porary stuff. I used to listen to a lot of jazz, but not so much any more.

“I still like music that sounds fairly human, I suppose that’s a corny way of putting it. But I’m not keen on – I’m not against synthes­izers, but y’know the current wave of bands, I’m not keen on them, the New Romantics, and stuff like that, it doesn’t appeal to me! I tend to still have lot of respect for the more traditional names like Dylan and the Stones and people like that!”

Does he have an ideal rock ‘n’ roll person?

“Well I mean Keith Richards, might be the obvious modern day, ultimate rock ‘n’ roll figure or Chuck Berry, I imagine, or Jerry Lee. There’s loads of them y’see (laughs) but I don’t really believe in, this thing of making…”

What about Elvis Presley?

“Oh yeah, I’d personally strangle that guy (Albert Goldman) who’s written that new book. I haven’t read it all, but I read the ex­tracts in Rolling Stone. He couldn’t have written that book if Elvis was still alive, because of the laws of libel the dead can’t come back and sue! Y’know? Hopefully though, Elvis will haunt him yet with a bit of luck!!

“No one’s above having their lives reviewed and written about, and so on, but y’know, how can you sit down and say something like ‘as Elvis lay on his bed, he thought to himself… Or, as Elvis said to himself as he walked onto the Vegas stage for the last time’. That’s fict­ion!

“If Charlie Gillet had written it, or Greil Marcus, or one of those fellows, somebody who likes rock ‘n’ roll, but this guy actually likes Benny Goodman. He was on TV recently, being interviewed, and he said that Elvis was only basically a good copyist of demo discs and he just wrote him off! And that’s not on! I’d be surprised if he even has an album at home. I mean that’s where I’d draw the line. If Elvis did good things or bad things – well everyone has gotta answer for themselves, but you must remember that Elvis had to live in a very… there wasn't much allowance. It was a very strict society. Keith Richard can get away with almost anything now, or Jagger or any of these people. Society is going that way now, and that's fine! But people expected Elvis o be perfect all of the time, y’know!

“I think too much has been made of turning rock ‘n’ roll figures into some sort of deities, of elevating them too much. Everyone likes praise, and everyone likes to see certain artists admired y’know, or held in esteem. But if it’s taken too far I think it gets a bit lopsided, particularly if you know one or two of them, if that’s not a prim thing to say and you know they’re only human, and they can only do a certain job.”

Is this why Rory has always ensured that he remained approachable? Or does he think about it at all?

“Ah not really. I mean I don’t see myself as approachable all of the time. But I just try to keep a wee bit of… I try to keep my feet some­what on the ground. I suppose I – I’m getting into analyzing myself now (laughs) which I don’t really like, but I mean, I have avoided certain trappings of the thing because I think they ruin rock ‘n’ roll or whatever we play. The mess people’s heads up, and it’s a hard enough business as it is! I like to keep a certain amount of control of what I do, and you’ve to make sacrifices for that you have to cut down your stardom (grimaces) ambitions. At least this way you can attempt to make fairly decent music - make decent albums, and play for the fun of it without getting too carried away!”

Saturday night’s gig goes off well. There is marginally more room to move than the night before, but as the venue is at least twice the size of the Birmingham one, there is probably in fact a larger attendance.

Afterwards Rory, Dónal, Pasquale (who handles the band’s continental promotions) and I head into town to eat, and proceed to assault our respective brains with consecutive bottles of Carlsberg Special and sundry other beverages.

I’m struck, as indeed I was many times throughout the last couple of days, by the wide range of Rory’s interests. For perhaps four or five hours he talks about everything under the sun - music, venues, movies, tennis, politics, Elvis, religion, spies and music. And they’re just the things I can remember!

Much later, Dónal drops me back to my hotel, where I should be able to grab about twenty minutes sleep before catching my early morning flight.

Packing a suitcase, I reflect on what a spec­ial kind of person Rory Gallagher is: what an amiable, interesting companion and what a down to earth human being. And what a superb musician as well.

And it dawns on me again just how well that first pay packet was spent.

[chrisevansdaughter]

HEYYY LOVEEE

HOW ARE YOU TODAYYY

HOW DID THE APPOINTMENT GO???

How are you feelinggg? Anything interestinggg??

Hey love! I’m taking it slow today not feeling too good after my rant last night (x) if you could even call it that.

My appointment unfortunately I couldn’t donate because I had my vaccines for my job last month I have to wait 4 weeks on one of them before I can give anything really annoying to be honest because no one told me and I was literally 2 days out from the month period being over. But they were really nice about it as always and I asked all the questions I needed to regardless so I’m gonna try next week.

I’m feeling a bit meh today I feel like it’s definitely gonna be a stay in my room in my environment type thing til later because I’m a bit stressed and tired and annoyed.

tw: weight talk now because I’ve been stressed and struggling a little I’ve gained weight a little bit more than I’d like it’s probably just because I missed out on meds, haven’t been to the gym as much as I’d like etc etc but since my medical i passed for my job which is the most expensive piece of paper I’ve ever bought I’ve gained well over 2 kg so I’m not saying gaining is a bad thing it just makes me feel more ‘eh’ when it’s noticeable because I was finally comfortable in my body but it is what it is for now so :).

I think i might try and write today but there is absolutely no guarantee because I only want to put out the best content in the best mind set I can, 2 of my asks are quite similar to (x) so I might write it in a different way something to do with school or change it up. Or just write a small little thing I say that I’ll write small headcannons and they turn in to full fics but it’s okay, so any ideas for small Drabble or headcannons would be appreciated but there is no guarantee they’ll be done today :)

Also any recommendations for comfort fluff fics with reader maybe not feeling too good would be appreciated 🫶🏻

[seospicybin]

COLLATERAL.

PART II

I.N x reader x Hyunjin. (s)

Chapters: Part I / Part III / Part IV

Author’s note: So, are you team Jeongin or Hyunjin?

"I thought we'll be the first to uncover the truth about the news," Hyunjin said as he read the article that Jeongin wrote the whole night about the bank fraud, leaned against your desk, looking so attractive with his hair slicked back.

You had read the article and it was great, but somehow the magazine wasn't the only one that knew about it, almost every media outlet came with the news that morning.

Jeongin had been working so hard on the article, you lost words to say but felt bad for him.

"I thought we'll make our big break with this news," Hyunjin sadly uttered.

The magazine was still new and only existed for a few months with only 3 issues out so far. The popularity was there but not quite hitting the hall of fame yet.

"Petit a petit, l'oiseau fait son nid," you muttered to him.

"Huh?"

"It's a French proverb," you explained.

Still, he gave you a puzzled look.

"It means Little by little, the bird makes its nest," you gave him the literal translation of the French words.

“Did you just talk in French?"

You stifled a nod, "I speak a little French, because in my former job I have to meet a lot of French people..." you trailed your words as Hyunjin stared deeper into your eyes.

"That's so hot," he suddenly said.

Your cheeks heated in an instant and looked down at your feet to hide them from him.

"It's- it's nothing, really," you stuttered.

Jeongin had a few guests over since this morning and the last guest of the day had just left his office.

He gestured to Hyunjin to come into his office next.

"See you later!" Hyunjin said to you.

But before you could say anything back, Jeongin lingered by the doorway and said, "You can go and have lunch," then closed the door.

It had been a week since he pinned you to the copy machine and kissed you. He acted as if nothing happened and that was probably for the best. You let it slip because maybe that was just a mistake due to the wine you both had before all that happened.

After lunch, you picked up a few files from other departments to hand them over to Jeongin, Hyunjin was still there too, reading something on his laptop.

"Here are the files you asked," you handed the files to him.

He took them without looking at you, a little too hard that a paper cut your finger.

"Ouch!" You softly yelped in pain and quickly sucked on the papercut as blood gushed out of the wound.

They both looked up at you and you hurriedly brought down your hand, suddenly aware of their stares at you.

"I'll excuse myself," you said, then headed out of the room.

You went to the bathroom and washed the papercut under the running water, the warm water helped soothe the pain.

Since you were there, you might as well fix your make-up and put on a fresh coat of lipstick.

When you got back, Hyunjin was sitting on your chair and writing something on your planner.

He closed it once he noticed you returned, "are you okay?" He gestured to the papercut.

"It's just a little cut," you coyly said with a smile.

He slammed his hand on your desk and put up his hand to reveal a band-aid under his hand, "I asked around if anyone have a band-aid," he said.

You saw the Hello Kitty print on the band-aid and softly laughed, "Thank you,"

"And I wrote something on your planner," he said, reclined on your chair and spun around.

"Are you and Mr. Yang planning on something together?" You asked, he usually asked to change Joengin's schedule just so they could go somewhere together, for an event or something like a game of basketball.

"No, it's your planner. I added something to your schedule on Saturday," he said.

You gave him a questioning look and blinked, "I don't have any schedule nor anything to do on Saturday," you simply said.

"Now you do!" He said with a smug.

You scrunched your nose in confusion.

Hyunjin got up from your chair and stretched out his hand, "anyway, Jeongin is out for lunch with his brother," he informed.

"And put that on!" He pointed to the band-aid.

"Will do!" You said and watched his left for his office.

You sat on the chair and hurried to put on the band-aid, laughing as you looked at the cute print on it. Jeongin's schedule was saved on the computer, but you have everything written on your planner just in case and you always need something to scribble on.

You opened to the page Hyunjin wrote on.

He wrote an address and a time, then another line, 'Don't be late! The party will not start without you,'

"Huh? A party?" You asked yourself.

As you were about to figure it out, your computer dinged with a new email. Your head tipped to the side because something was amiss like something was not in its right place.

You checked everything, but nothing was missed or misplaced. Then what was it?

You forgot all about it once Jeongin was back in his office and called you in.

"I want you to pick up something from this store," he handed you a piece of note with an address, "just ask for my order under my name,"

You looked at the address of a store name and the address below it.

"And this is for you," he handed you something.

You took it and opened it to see what was inside.

"The store will be closed in an hour," he said.

"Yes, right away, sir!" You said, rushed out of his office, and picked up your bag in a hurry.

Once you got inside the company's town car, you opened the small paper bag to find a band-aid and ointment inside.

Luckily, the store was still open when you arrived, "I'm here to pick up an order for Mr. Yang Jeongin," you said to the store assistant.

"Please wait a moment while we're looking for it," he said.

You looked around the tailor shop, at the variety of men's pieces of clothing from a selection of ties and suits to bowler hats.

"Please make sure this is your order!" The shop assistant said as he placed a box of shoes on top of a glass table and revealed a pair of brown leather shoes inside.

"Can I take a quick picture to make sure it's the right one?" You asked.

"Yes, sure,"

You captured a picture of it and then sent it to Jeongin to confirm it was his right order. After receiving a reply, you confirmed it to the shop assistant.

"Then I'll proceed to wrap it into a gift," he said.

"Oh?"

"It's included in the order," he said.

"Okay," you said.

It got you wondering, first, it wasn't Jeongin's shoe size, and secondly, he wrapped it as a gift. Something made sense, you typed a name and searched for his profile.

You gasped when you saw his birth date and realized that the party on Saturday was for Hyunjin's birthday.

You only had two days to find a gift and you probably had no other chance to have time to buy something, you looked around the shop for something proper for a gift but somewhat affordable.

It was the thought that counts, but still, you wanted to gift something precious, a little pricey was okay too because he deserves it.

-

Why were you nervous?

You went to parties plenty of times so this was no different.

You did a little research on the internet about the address Hyunjin wrote on your planner, it was for a restaurant with a beautiful garden, and the party would most likely be held there.

You settled on a summer dress with floral prints even though the weather started to get cooler, but it seemed to be the only piece of clothing that fitted the occasion.

You didn't forget about the gift you bought along with a birthday card, took a taxi to the restaurant and hoped that you didn't come too early or too late.

There were already a few people inside, you sighed because you came at just the right time. You went further inside to find the party host and found him by the garden talking to someone you didn't know.

Hyunjin looked different without his suit and tie but not less attractive, seeing him outside the office with the soft afternoon sunlight shining on him, you were convinced that his beauty is out of this world.

You hesitated to come up to him and retreated, you'll meet him later then went to grab a drink instead, alcohol seemed to be the better option to calm the nerves.

You met one of your colleagues among the crowd, turned out she worked with him before at a different magazine two years ago.

"It's good to see a familiar face," you beamed because you felt out of place being at a party where you barely knew any of the guests.

"But you do know the one he's talking to right now is his ex, right?" She asked you.

Your eyes darted Hyunjin's direction, he was talking to a very beautiful lady with blonde hair that was styled into an elegant chignon, which made you feel like you did the bare minimum by only curling yours with a hair curler.

"She's very pretty," you sighed with so much jealousy at her visual.

"Well, I heard they're getting back together sometime last year but now, I don't know," your colleague said, also looking at them with jealousy in her eyes.

You snorted because at least you weren't the only one feeling pathetic and sad.

"You keep carrying it," she suddenly said, gesturing to the small paper bag you had been carrying around, "I bet it's a birthday gift, right?"

You nodded.

"You can put it on that pile right there!" She pointed to the pile of birthday presents near the bar.

You reluctantly went there, but once you saw they were big boxes wrapped so luxuriously, you believed they were wrapped by paid professionals meanwhile yours were simply wrapped with a bow you bought at a stationery shop.

Your confidence dropped lower than before, scoffed at the thought that your birthday gift would be deemed precious.

You decided to give the birthday present at the office, at least by giving it personally he would see the good intention behind it.

When you turned around, you bumped into someone, "I am so sorry," you quickly muttered.

When you looked up, it was Jeongin.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said.

It felt weird seeing him in here and dressed so casually in a cream-colored shirt with the top two buttons left open and dark slacks, he looked exactly like his age, young and vibrant.

What was weirder is his smile, he was smiling at you, "I'm sorry that came out rude," he said, "I'm sure Hyunjin invited you,"

You stifled a nod, "it's nice seeing you here, sir!"

"We're not at work, please don't ca-"

"Finally, you're here!" Hyunjin said with a sigh, looking at the two of you.

You thought he was talking to Jeongin, but he went in your direction and put his hands on your shoulder, "I told you the party will not start without you," he said.

You awkwardly laughed, nonplussed.

"Did you two come together?" He asked.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off again.

"I told you not to make her work on the weekend too," he scolded Jeongin while clicking his tongue at him.

"No, I've been here for a while and Mr. Yang just came a few minutes ago," you elaborated, glancing at Jeongin nervously.

Jeongin pushed the birthday present at him with force as a protest, "Happy birthday!"

Hyunjin dramatically yelped, "Thank you, little brother!" He said while patting his head.

It was getting even weirder seeing Hyunjin treated Jeongin like this, you believed you witnessed a rare moment.

Jeongin didn't complain but swatted his hand away, "I'm going to get drinks," he said, leaving you both for the bar.

You hurriedly hid his birthday gift behind your back before he noticed.

"Have you been here long?"

"No, I came a little before Mr. Yang," you lied and smiled at him.

"Let me get you a drink then," he went to the bar without waiting for your answer.

You walked to the balcony to see the sun about to set for the day and sighed at how beautiful the colors it created in the sky.

Hyunjin returned not long after, "Here's your drink!"

"Thank you!"

You took a sip of your fifth glass of chilled champagne and tried to reserve it to not make you drunk.

"What's that?" He was eyeing the small paper bag you looped around your forearm.

You winced because you forgot to keep it hidden, "It's a Uhm..."

"Is that a birthday gift for me?" He guessed with an eyebrow raised.

You couldn't lie with him staring at you like that, then nodded.

You grimaced as you handed it to him, "It's something simple, really. But I hope you like it," you said, "and happy birthday!"

Hyunjin took it with a wide grin and giddiness, "thank you," he softly said.

Impatient, he shoved his hand inside and pulled out the small box and the birthday card.

"Oh no, please, don't read it here!" You begged, it seemed like a good idea but seeing him holding it made you realize how corny it was. Who wrote on a birthday card nowadays?

"Respectfully, it's my birthday and I can do whatever I want," he said.

You grimaced and looked down at your feet as he pulled out the birthday card, he read the card then gave you a confused look.

"It's in French," he innocently said.

You chuckled at his blatant remark, "It says 'mangez bien, riez souvent, aimez beaucoup' which means 'eat well, laugh often, love a lot," you said.

You looked at him and braved yourself to look him in the eyes, "in other words, I wish you live your life to the fullest," you finished with a smile.

He nodded and put the card back inside the envelope.

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"Because you're hot when you speak French that's why you wrote it in French?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No, not at all!"

He laughed while his hand untied the bow wrapped around the little box, he opened the lid to find a pair of cufflinks inside.

"Your constellation is embossed on them," you informed.

He trailed the silver-plated cufflinks with his thumb, "I love it," he sighed.

He turned his head at you, "Thank you!" He genuinely said with a hand squeezing your shoulder.

You couldn't help but smiled back at him, especially knowing that he likes the birthday present.

Someone called for him from inside the restaurant, "just one second!" Hyunjin shouted back at him.

"I'm sorry that I-"

"It's okay. It's your birthday, you can do whatever you want," you reminded him of the words he just said to your earlier.

He put everything back into the small paper bag, "you're so cheeky!"

"Anyway, enjoy the party!" Then walked back inside.

Hyunjin was cherished, and you could see that from how people treated him, it came as no surprise because he's kind to everyone and effervescent.

The darker the night got, the more people came to the party, and more alcohol was brought out to the crowd. You drifted here and there, drinking and secretly making sure Hyunjin was always in your sight, but who knew that watching over him got you exhausted.

You didn't say goodbye to him because he was among friends anyway, your presence wasn't that essential so you headed out of the restaurant and waited for a taxi.

"Leaving already?"

You turned around to see Jeongin coming behind you, "yes," you shortly replied.

"Can you wait a few minutes?"

"Do you want me to help you with something, sir?" You asked back.

"I told you not to call-" he sighed, then held his hand up at you, "Just wait here!"

"Alright," you responded while hugging yourself from the cold gust of wind.

After a few minutes, a car pulled up right in front of you and recognized Jeongin's car. The car window rolled down, "get in!" He ordered.

You hesitated, but again, you got so used to complying with his orders.

"So, where do you live?" He asked.

"Oh, uhm..." you got taken aback, didn't think he would drive you home, "you don't have to drive me home, sir!"

"I want to drive you home," he stated, "or are you uncomfortable with it?"

"Of course not!" you responded, hurriedly putting on the safety belt.

You showed him the way to your apartment, and he insisted on dropping you off right outside the building.

"Thank you for driving me home," you sincerely said to him with a smile.

"No worries," he calmly said.

You unbuckled the seat belt, and Jeongin suddenly reached for your strand of hair stuck to your lips, "there!"

You awkwardly laughed and opened the car door, "Have a great night!" You said for the last time, then got out of the car.

-

What is it about Monday that makes people feel the slightest bit dreadful?

You always put on bright colors to lighten your mood, you put on an electric blue dress and pair it with nude-colored heels.

"Is he inside?" You asked Hyunjin's assistant as you brought a few files for him to sign from Jeongin.

"Yes, but he's having a guest," she said.

His office door that was usually open was closed that time, "Mr. Yang wanted me to have these files signed real quick," you said to him, telling her the urgency of your arrival there.

"Oh? Then go ahead, I think he'll understand," she said, convinced you that it would be okay for you to interrupt them for a second.

You knocked on his door a few times, then pushed the door open, at first you heard his laugh, then the other person's laugh, a woman's laugh.

"I'm sorry for interrupting Mr. Hwang, but Mr. Yang wanted you to sign these files as soon as possible," you reported, then walked up to him who was sitting on the sofa.

You were finally bold enough to look at the guest he was having, it was someone from his birthday party, his ex-girlfriend.

"Oh no, you're not interrupting at all," he said with a smile.

You handed him the files along with a pen, watched him signed them one by one then handed them back to you.

"Is there anything else?" He asked you.

"No, sir," you replied.

"Thank you,"

Maybe you overanalyzed everything and got you thinking that Hyunjin wanted you out of his office.

You sighed once you got back to your desk, the only thing that always works to ease your mind was writing your filthy thoughts away, but how could you think of him when he's in his office together with his beautiful ex with the door closed?

His assistant came over a few times to bring his files instead of him who usually brought them himself.

And the dreadful Monday final dragged you down too.

Your intercom rang, "You may leave for the day," Jeongin said.

You went into his office and stood before his desk, "but sir, you have a video conference at 10 pm with the Australian branch," you reminded, just in case he didn't see his schedule.

"Yes, I am well aware," he said.

"And I can't leave while you still have another schedule for the day," you said, not trying to be a good assistant here, but going home doing nothing would give you time to overanalyze things all over again.

"It's late and I can do it on my own," he said, resting his hands on the desk, and again, you got amazed by how big his hands are.

"Let me help you, sir!" You insisted and put on pleading eyes at him.

He looked at you as if to read the pure intension behind your eagerness, "If you insist," he finally answered.

After serving his dinner, you ate your dinner by your desk and checked on your blog, and read some comments under the writing you posted last night.

You came into his office 15 minutes before the video conference began as he ordered you, "15 minutes to go, sir!" You announced.

He was putting on a new tie. and you noticed it was slightly askew, "May I?"

"Yes," he replied.

You fixed his tie and trailed your hand around the collar to make sure it settled nicely.

You reached for his suit jacket next and held it up for him to wear.

He slipped his arms into the sleeves, let you put it on for him, then flattened the fabric on the shoulders with your hands.

"All is good," you confirmed with a smile.

"Thank you!"

You collected the tray of his finished dinner, "Call me if you need anything, I'll be on my desk," you said before leaving his office.

Just like usual, he didn't need any of your help. You went to the empty meeting room and kept the lights turned out, looking out at the night view from there.

-

Jeongin sensed that something was off.

You wore a vivid blue dress and he liked how the color brighten up his room when you came into his office, then you asked to stay with him for a late-night video conference.

Maybe something was bothering your mind and going home would only make it worse, he understood that feeling so many times that was why he always buries himself in his works.

Opposite to the bright color of your dress, he saw a layer of sadness on you, and you were so quiet, withdrawn.

When you fixed his tie, he got to see you up close and saw how your eyelashes fanned out beautifully and that you have a faint mole on the tip of your nose. His eyes went lower to your mouth, slightly parted open as your hand focused on fixing the collar of his shirt.

It made you think of the taste of your lips, of that day when he kissed you by the copy machine, and he could taste it on his lips right now, he could taste it again if he wanted to since you stood so close to him.

He saw you but couldn't see the usual you who oozes charms and confidence, they were still there but suppressed.

After the video conference ended, he went outside his office to tell you he will give you a ride home in a few minutes.

He didn't find you on your desk so he walked around the office, and found you in the empty meeting room just staring out at the view in the dark.

He quietly made his way to you and accidentally startled you when you were deep in your thoughts.

"Were you looking for me?" You asked him in panic and glanced down at your wristwatch.

"I must have lost track of time," you explained.

It was clear something had been bothering you all day, he went to stand next to you to stare out at the view.

"Is something bothering you?" He asked.

You seemed to be caught by the question, "It was nothing, really," you answered, partly flustered.

"Are you still uncomfortable with me?"

"No," you answered without a beat.

He swallowed before asking the question again to you, "Can I kiss you again?"

Your head snapped at him and your eyes lit up with something.

He gave you time to answer despite his impatient urge to kiss you right then and there, he wanted to kiss you to get you out of the blue.

You sheepishly smiled and he was ready to hear you rejected him.

"Actually yes, I'd like that," you answered.

He didn't waste another time but took a step closer and put his hands to cup your face, using his thumb he rubbed over your lower lip to finally land his lips on yours.

Jeongin yearned for this kiss, he thought about it especially when you were always present in his days. You have no idea how much he held himself back from not kissing you after he drove you home from Hyunjin's party, you sat on the passenger's side with your pretty dress on, and he took a strand of your hair that stuck to your lips and he should have kissed you right then, but he didn't.

He got to kiss you again felt so rewarding so he kissed you more for restraining himself all these times.

You sighed as you opened your mouth to him, one beautiful lustful sigh.

He steered you to the meeting table and he sat you on top of it without taking his mouth off you.

He put a hand on your neck and the other keeping your body close. He felt your hands move up his arms and met on the nape of his neck, tangled one into his hair and gently tugging at it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist next, sending the hem of your dress rode up your thighs.

The kiss turned into something more as your hands worked open his tie and his mouth moved to your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin.

He started bucking his hips against yours and you let out a moan at the friction it made on your clothed cunt, the sound echoing in the empty meeting room.

Gosh, you made him so needy for you that he couldn't control himself.

He couldn't tell where your lips were anymore but continued kissing every inch of skin available to him.

You gave up untying his tie and moved your hands to the waistband of his trousers.

Jeongin was more than eager to let things unfold, but he quickly regained his senses and pulled away from you, completely, leaving you with your mouth agape and eyes closed.

"Did I-"

"I'll drive you home," he said, he turned on his heels and left the room.

He agreed that was rude for him to end things like that when he was the one who initiated it. He understood why you slammed the car door a little too hard as you got out of the car, and the evening greeting sounded bitter.

He banged the back of his head against the headrest of his car seat and regretted what just happened but he was more afraid to find out what would happen if he didn't stop.

-

It seemed like Jeongin was avoiding you, he kept going out and when he was in the office, he went to check things in another department.

You wouldn't like have been offended if at least, he tried as if things didn't happen between you, by avoiding you, you got the impression that he dislikes you so much even just from the sight of you.

He could have said something, whether it was a mistake that he did for the second time or was it because you got too bold on him.

It would have been easier if he tells you what you did wrong, and what made him act that way.

Hyunjin suddenly appeared in front of you and pulled you out of your deep thought.

"Is he inside?" He asked.

"No, he's with the digital team," you answered.

"Please make sure he signed it today," he said as he handed you a file.

You took it from him and put it on a pile along with other files Jeongin needed to sign, "noted!"

"Thanks," he muttered then turned to leave, he stopped after a few steps.

He turned around to face you, "are you perhaps mad at me?" He asked.

The question took you by surprise because it should be you asking him the question.

"Why would I be mad at you?" You asked back sounding more confused than him.

He walked to your desk and leaned with his hands on it, "then why did you leave without telling me that day?"

"I'm sorry?" You got even more confused and puzzled.

"You left the party without telling me," he said, his eyes looked so sad when he said it.

You gasped when you finally caught on to his words, "I am deeply sorry. It's just that, you were with your friends and I felt bad if I had to interrupt," you elaborated with an apologetic smile.

He foolishly grinned because it was all just a big misunderstanding, "ah, I see," he said.

"I thought you're mad or something," his fingers scratched the end of his eyebrow.

You shook your head, "no, not at all," you assured.

"Should we-"

Jeongin came as Hyunjin was about to say something to you, cut him off mid-sentence.

"We'll leave in 10 minutes," he said.

You thought he was talking to you, but Hyunjin immediately replied to him, "got it, boss!"

"Are you going somewhere?" You hesitated to ask him because you were the assistant, you should have known his schedule better than Hyunjin.

"It's a lunch with important people," he vaguely answered.

"I'd better get ready," he smiled then walked back to his office.

You were about to enter his office to deliver files when he got out of the doorway, "You can leave them on my desk, I'll sign them later," he sternly said as he put on his suit jacket.

"You may leave early," he added, leaving you there holding the files close to your chest.

You felt like crying, it wasn't about getting ignored by him but you felt like you weren't needed anymore, you worked for him but he didn't tell you that he planned on going somewhere.

You waited until late at night for him to come back to the office, you believed he would because he always does. That man spends most of his days in the office than in his house.

When the clock struck at 9 pm, you gave up and headed down to the lobby. As you went through the revolving door, you saw him going into the elevator, this was the best opportunity to confront him about the issue.

You went back inside and headed back to the office, you threw your bag on your desk along with your jacket, you didn't even knock on his and let yourself inside.

"Sir, can we talk?" You asked him.

He was leaning against his desk while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt when you came barging in.

"I told you you can leave early," he said, he certainly didn't expect you would still be here.

"I need to know what I did wrong," you began, "why are you avoiding me?"

Jeongin sighed, he knew what you were talking about.

"If it's about that night, I assure you, I'm fine with it," you added, vaguely mentioned about the kiss you did a few nights ago.

Jeongin stayed quiet but placed his hands on his side on the edge of the desk.

"You did nothing wrong," he softly said.

"But why do I feel like I'm being punished?"

He sighed again and looked at you, "come here!" he said.

You took a few steps until you were close enough to him.

"Closer," he said with a hand held out at you.

You took a step closer and put your hand on his, which he immediately clasped with his. He pulled you even closer until there were only inches of gap between you and him.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said, he searched for your eyes until your eyes met and locked.

"It's me..." he sighed.

He played with his ear for a second to continue speaking, "I have a hard time controlling myself when I'm around you,"

Your heart started to beat faster at his unexpected confession.

"That night... if I didn't stop, then I would never know how to hold myself back anymore," his voice dropped lower, almost like a whisper, like he told you a secret.

His hand reached for your jaw and held the side of your face, "I want you so much," he shamelessly muttered.

You placed your hand on his, "Then don't,"

His face dropped as he have just heard a piece of horrible news.

"Don't hold yourself back anymore," you finished your sentence.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said.

"Then remember that I'm the one who allows it," you said back, staring back into his eyes in a piercing gaze.

He hesitated to bring his face close to kiss you, you took the initiative to kiss him first and let things unfold once again.

You didn't understand what drove you to agree on all this? The selfish and straightforward answer would be you like being wanted so much, it had been a long time since someone openly desired you.

He is the only person trustworthy enough to treat you well, and has no bad intentions toward you, except that he wanted this as selfishly as you do.

-

"You look so pretty today," Hyunjin praised as you sat next to him at yet another conference.

"Maybe because the auditorium is dark," you joked with a sly grin.

"No," he resisted your playful remark, "you're always pretty," he remarked.

You softly chuckled, "and you're always handsome," you complimented back because that's a fact.

"Oh, I was waiting to get a compliment back," he joked.

You lightly shook your head, then pulled out your planner from your bag.

"No, but today you are exceptionally beautiful," he praised again.

"Okay, shush! You have to focus so I can ask you about it," you said with a glare.

He made a gesture of zipping his lips together and you softly laughed at him.

Jeongin sent you to the convention first thing in the morning to present him because he couldn't attend due to a sudden meeting notice later in the afternoon and he had to prepare a few things.

In the midst of it, Hyunjin leaned in close and whispered, "do you have anything to ask?"

You shook your head.

"Then let me test you," he said.

Felt challenged, you agreed to it.

"What's AGI?"

You triumphantly smiled because you knew, "Adjusted Gross Income, it's the total of income earned from wages or investments minus IRS-approved income adjustments," you confidently answered.

He shot you that signature half-smirk of his, "not bad,"

You subtly shrugged at him with a sly smile danced on your face.

He leaned in again, "I like the smell of your perfume," he whispered, his lips barely grazing your ear as he pulled away.

You leaned in at him, "and I like your tie," you praised his red striped tie.

This you believed is called flirting, but you got so used to trick your mind that he was just playing with you to get carried away by his flirtatious words, it made you blush still but didn't affect you as bad as it was.

"Let's have lunch before we go back to the office," Hyunjin suggested since it was lunchtime anyway by the time the conference ended.

"Uhm..." you felt bad for rejecting him, but you knew Jeongin would need you since he would be having an important meeting with the executives later.

Someone swept him aside and he turned to see his ex-girlfriend there along with two other people. It's so convenient that his ex-girlfriend works at one of the giant companies and happened to host the convention you attended.

"Stay for lunch!" She said to him.

"And you are Jeongin's assistant, right?"

You nodded with a sheepish smile.

"Come join us!" She kindly invited you, her blonde hair tied into a sleek bun that day.

You glanced at Hyunjin and shot him an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry but I have to go back to the office," you politely rejected her offer.

"It's okay," you quickly said to Hyunjin and hurriedly made your way out of the auditorium.

By the time you got back to your desk, there was so much stuff on your desk, from packages to envelopes and files, lots of it. You sorted them and took the urgent files to his office, you knocked, but there was no reply. You let yourself in and your hunch was right, he wasn't inside.

You put the files on his desk and cleaned the cluttering mess on his desk.

"The meeting will take hours so don't wait for me," he said as soon as he got into the office, he took his suit jacket from the hanger and then put it on.

"You can leave early," he added as he put his phone inside the inner pocket of his suit.

"Alright," you responded with a smile.

He returned the smile, then left the office without saying anything else. You regretted not saying something to him because he seemed to be needing some encouragement.

A meeting with the executives is a very serious thing, it could be good but also bad. Remembering that the magazine hasn't met any significant accomplishments only meant the meeting was for the latter matter.

You continued cleaning his desk and moved to the shelf to put back the files he took out.

You heard the door open and looked over your shoulder to see Jeongin coming back into the office, your hand was lingering on a file you were about to put back on the shelf.

"Did you forget something?" You asked.

He didn't reply but walked up to you, then held you from the back.

A low gasp escaped your mouth and you looked down at his hand around your waist.

He put all of your hair to one side of your shoulders, then tenderly kissed the skin on your neck, "would you spend a night with me?" He asked.

His mouth was so close to your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, his words hinted at neediness.

You thought of it for a while, but your body seemed to react on its own and nodded at his request.

"Yes," you gave him a verbal answer to convince him you have consented.

"Take my car to my apartment and wait for me there," he instructed along with another kiss right behind your ear.

"Okay," you breathlessly answered as his hand lay flat on your stomach.

You dared yourself to turn your head at him and just like you already knew what he was going to do, you closed your eyes and felt his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss, he opened his mouth just enough to take more of your lips in hips and stayed like that for a moment.

He pulled away slowly, "I'll see you later," he said against your lips.

He loosened his hand around you to finally leave you alone in his office again.

You had gone to his apartment twice, the first time was to make sure everything was settled before he moved in and the second time was to deliver an important file that he needed to sign.

You still remember the passcode and he didn't change it, you let yourself into his apartment, it was empty and dark with so little furniture.

You could tell that he was rarely home because his kitchen is spotless and seemed barely used to its function.

Even though you were alone, you held the urge to check his bedroom or any other room. You decided to sit on the sofa and planned on waiting for him like he ordered you to.

-

Jeongin hates it when things are out of his control.

The company gave him a year to prove that he can carry the magazine to success and it was barely 6 months but they already demanded real progress.

Having a name and fame only burdened him, making him work twice as hard to prove himself.

He had done his best, he just needed some more time and space to breathe as well.

He dragged himself to his apartment with his head heavy with thoughts.

Well, until he saw you standing by the living room and looking at him coming through the door.

He completely forgot that he asked you to come to his place and didn't think that you would really come.

You clasped your hands together in front of you and smiled, "is the meeting going well?" You asked.

But he didn't want to think about that.

Not when you have waited for him to come home for hours.

He came up to you and took your hand in his then kissed the back of your hand.

He didn't stop there, he kissed the inside of your hand, your wrist, he made a trail of small kisses along the inner arm then put your hand on his shoulder.

He pulled you closer by the waist and put his forehead on yours, "have you been waiting long?"

"No," you replied.

He smiled because you gave him a white lie for an answer.

He slowly put his lips on yours and gave you a long kiss until his lung burns for oxygen, a rewarding kiss for being such a good girl.

It felt like all the weariness slipped away from him with every kiss on your lips.

He still didn't understand why would you agree to his selfish request, but he promised himself to try not to hurt you.

"Come!" he said, pulling you by your hand to his bedroom. You walked behind him as he pulled you along with him and opened the door, letting you into his most private place.

Once inside, he pulled you again for another kiss because he still needed time to go further. He knew it wouldn't be easy, he knew that once he saw your body that he craves so much, it would be hard for him to stop.

But you being the only thing he could control made him impatient, he brought his mouth close to your ear, "I might get a little selfish," he warned.

He withdrew, just enough to look at your face, "are you okay with that?" He asked again.

After a little consideration, you nodded.

"I'm on birth control and I'm clean," you informed, letting him know beforehand to get it out of the way.

Jeongin took a sharp breath, he was okay with using protection but you mentioned that you were on birth control raised his excitement to the roof.

"You're something," he said to you.

You shyly smiled and he hurriedly put his lips on you, as if to kiss that beautiful smile of yours.

He let go of the kiss to search for the zipper of your dress and once he found it, he pulled it down in one swift move. He planned on undressing you like you were like a precious gift that he wanted to unwrap so slowly but he couldn't contain himself anymore, he wanted you so much.

He parted your dress open and slipped it down your body, revealing the matching black underwear, for a request that came so sudden, you came prepared.

You don't need all that, your body is heaven itself.

He sat on the end of the bed and pulled you by your hand, inviting you to sit on his lap. You straddled him, looking down at him, and stared at the dark orbs of his eyes, heavy with lust.

He ran his hands down your sides and sighed, but his eyes didn't look away from yours.

You kissed his mouth and let him roam his hands around, touching every inch of your skin until his hands met the curve of your ass, kneading on the flesh.

He dragged his mouth down to your neck, gently sucking on the sweet skin while you put your hands around his neck, and started grinding on him.

He put a hand on your chest, trailed it down the valley between your breasts, and cupped your breast through your bra.

His brain was still catching up to his body, the touches he made on you and how he could still function taking it all in, that you sitting on his lap half-naked and his hands were working open your bra.

You volunteered to open it for him and let the bra fall onto the floor.

He buried his head in your chest, breathing in your scent that clung to your skin, rubbing his plump lips over the skin to feel it.

It sent a shudder down your spine, making you grind on his growing bulge slower yet harder, to give you just the right friction over your clothed core.

Jeongin put his big hands on your breasts, his fingers playing with the hardening buds, and pushed them to the middle, taking your breasts into his greedy mouth in turns.

He could feel your heavy, hot breathing against the top of his head with your hand tangled in his dark hair.

"Oh my God," you breathlessly muttered.

And he couldn't help it anymore, he wanted to feel you all over.

He lay you down on the bed and took off your underwear, the last piece of clothing you had on you, and revealed that enticing, delicate flesh between your legs.

He got off the bed and stood there, looking at your naked body with eyes that filled with so much desire.

His curiosity over your body had been answered yet he was far from satisfied.

Before he got back onto the bed, he took off his jacket suit, and shirt. He took your hands and put them on his bare chest as a way to give you permission to touch him as you please.

"Gorgeous," you muttered under your breath and he was sure that you didn't mean for him to hear it, so he pretended that he didn't.

He kissed you and touched you all over whether it was with his hands or his mouth.

You gasped when his mouth made a contact with your cunt, he kissed the skin around it before fully landing his mouth on your drenched cunt again.

The way he ran his tongue over your slit repeatedly made you wetter than before, his hands locked around your thighs keeping you still as you tried to shut your legs together a few times already.

Jeongin hummed for every lick he did down your slit, drawing his mouth to watch your face as he played with your clit, "so sensitive," he muttered.

He didn't hesitate to use his fingers next, two fingers in and out of you, curled them inside, and stretched you out as his cock throbbed to be inside you soon.

"I'm close, I'm close," you repeatedly said.

He kept the rhythm of his fingers added with his mouth gently sucking on your clit to finally make you cum around his fingers.

He whimpered at how you clenched around his fingers, imagining that it was his cock.

He was getting even more impatient with every passing second.

He kissed you with his mouth slick with your arousal and even with your head clouded with immense pleasure, you were still able to help him unbuckle his belt to finally got rid of his slacks.

Your hand easily found his cock, tumescent and so ready for you.

He kneeled on the bed and parted your legs open, salivating over your glistening wet cunt, aching to be filled by him.

Using the tip of his cock, he teased your entrance and made you arch your back in response, so eager to take him in.

A subtle smirk danced on his face.

"I can't wait to be inside you either," he said to you.

He took your hands and pinned them both above your head with one hand.

He wanted to have control and so he did.

He aligned his cock at your entrance and slowly pushed in, he heard your cries of pleasure but kept pushing in, grunting at the way your walls were taking in his length.

"Oh," he groaned.

"Just a little bit more," he said, while kept pushing the remaining length of his cock inside you until he fully sheathed in your tight walls.

"There," he sighed while rubbing your thighs.

He slid his hands up to your breasts while giving you a moment to adjust to his cock, humming and lowly sighing with so much lust.

Gosh, everything little thing you do is so hot.

You felt so tight around him, he wondered if you ever had a cock this big before, he caressed your cheek and looked into your half-shut eyes, "am I too big for you?"

You hummed while nuzzling your head into his palm, "yes, sir!"

He would take it that it was a force of habit for you to address him by 'sir' but surprisingly, he likes being called that. It elicited something inside him, a sense of authority.

He let go of your hands and picked up his silk tie from the pile of clothes on the floor, he put it around your neck and made it a makeshift leash.

He twirled the tie around his knuckle to lift your head and met his lips in the middle, kissing you so hard as the leash keeping you steady.

He gasped as he let go of the kiss and slowly lowered your head back on the pillow.

Putting your legs around his waist, he started moving against you, the leash tight around his hand, bending your head just enough to let you see how his cock buried so deep inside him.

"See how you take all of me?" He asked.

You nodded with the tie hard around your neck.

"Now watch as I fuck your tight cunt," he ordered and started to thrust into you.

You cried out of pain and pleasure, touching yourself as his every hard thrust reverberated through your body.

He lifted your head by the leash again and kissed you hungrily, adding more speed to his thrust making you moan into his mouth.

A tear escaped the corner of your eyes when your head met the pillow again, "oh my God," you breathlessly, gripping the side of the pillow while the other hand pinched on your nipple for extra stimulation.

Jeongin really enjoyed the view and he liked the control he was having over yours, he changed the pace so many times that he could see you slowly got drained and drowsy.

Afraid that you passed out before you could cum, he gripped the tie around your neck close to the base of your throat.

"Keep up with me," he commanded.

You held his wrist and kept your eyes open even though it was hard to do so, you were getting tired from the edging.

"Cum together with me," he said.

He picked up the pace and didn't slow down, he kept true to his words as he was also getting tired from the mounting pleasure inside of him.

"Let go," he ordered because he felt you on the brink of your orgasm.

You gripped his wrist so hard that your nails dug into the skin, and your mouth was wide open with moans spilling out of it, releasing everything that he tried to hold back from you until then.

With a few more hard thrusts Jeongin finally cum as well, he pressed his cock so deep inside you to fill you until the last drop of his cum.

"Fuck," he sighed with so much satisfaction, then slowly pulled his cock out, dripping with his load, and coated your cunt with the white essence.

"Fuck," he cursed again, looking at the mess he made out of you but still enticing him the same.

He didn't hear anything from you but your fervent breathing, completely ruined with your hands helplessly lying around your head.

"You look so pretty like this," he praised and immediately covered your face with kisses.

He collapsed on top of you despite the thin layer of sweat coated both of your bodies, limbs tangled around each other and sloppily kissing each other to eventually passed out, too fucked out to gain any consciousness.

That must be the best sleep he ever had because when he woke up the next morning, he didn't see you lying next to him. He is a light sleeper, any sound and he'll be awake in a second.

The conclusion must be he slept so tight he didn't even hear you get off the bed, got dressed, and left his place.

Looking at the mess of his bed and the scent of you that clung to the sheet, he smiled because it was all so worth it.

When he got to the office and didn't see you at your desk though, his anxiety kicked in.

He checked his schedule to see if he missed anything or that he sent you somewhere today but forgot about it, nothing came up.

He checked his message just in case he missed a notice from you, also nothing.

Maybe you were simply late, his thought tried to comfort him.

After spending a few minutes conflicted between calling you or not, his office door swung open and he saw you coming with a tray.

You served him the breakfast he always has every morning, a sandwich with hot black coffee.

"I'm sorry, sir for the late breakfast," you quickly apologized and poured him a glass of water from the newly opened bottle of sparkling water.

"The sandwich shop I usually bought your breakfast from is temporarily closed," you explained.

You went to stand before his desk, "So I went to the other shop, which is a little farther and that's why I'm late," you finished with a smile.

Jeongin looked at you and you looked at him back, he was unsure how to act especially after last night then the image of your naked body lying on his bed flashed through his mind.

"Thank you!" He muttered without looking at you and lifted his coffee cup to take a sip.

"I'll be back to tell you about your schedule after your breakfast," you smiled and turned around to leave.

Jeongin took a deep breath to calm himself down, he had never been this nervous before, but it amazed him how you easily acted like nothing happened last night.

-

It was difficult to see him in the eyes and tried not to get flustered.

You managed to put on a casual act and hoped that he didn't see how hard you gripped the tray and how nervous you were as you stood right in front of him.

It was getting more difficult to try not to think about last night, how he was so needy yet restrained himself so much, tried to be gentle with you.

You always knew he's dominant.

He likes to be in control, you always thought rich people are bred that way but adding trust issue into the mix, that's what makes Jeongin.

You knew he wanted this fling to be kept secret and strictly physical, maybe showing him that you can behave professionally like this would be enough as proof to him.

And you trusted him enough that he wouldn't spoil this secret too.

Hyunjin came stomping his way to your desk looking so angry, "Is he inside?"

You had never seen him like this, jaws tensed and fiery eyes that were so intimidating, you got slightly terrified.

"Y-yes," you stuttered your answer.

He didn't wait for you to announce his arrival but let himself in, pushing the door so hard the door bounced back but not quite closed all the way.

You heard a slam against the table and sent something cluttering.

"Why are you suddenly changing the cover for next month's issue without telling me?"

You heard Hyunjin's voice, sharp and bitter, it felt like someone else was using Hyunjin's body and it wasn't him talking to Jeongin inside.

"You own this magazine yes, I admit, but where is your ethic?" He snapped at Jeongin.

"We can talk about that. No need to be-"

"Okay, forget about that!" Hyunjin cut him off, "What I don't understand is why we put up that person on the cover?"

You rushed to close the door so no one could hear the rest of their argument.

When you got back, you hurriedly checked to find out what made Hyunjin all red and mad, losing his calm.

You opened your computer to get a grasp of what was truly happening, it didn't take long for you to find that disgusting pervert smiling on the preview cover of next month's issue.

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[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[transias]

Hello!! I saw your taking requests and I was wondering if you could write a johnny x reader where the reader is related to kreese maybe he's their uncle or godfather anyways one day kreese has the reader there with him to show them off and johnny connect's dots that there related , Its okay if you dont wanna write it I love your writing btw💕

An Unexpected Surprise.

Pairings: Johnny Lawrence x Godchild Kreese!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death

A/N: Thank you so much, y'all are so sweet oml! will always be more than happy to write for all of you, so don't even worry about it <3

〰️

My parents had died about two weeks ago. Everything happened so quickly, I barely had time to process it.

It wasn't like I could put my life on pause for a moment. If my parents were here I know they would probably say something like, "(Y/n), keep going. You got this, life goes on no matter what happens. What matters is that you're brave enough to fight back and continue."

And that's what I was planning to do.

"(Y/n)?" A voice called out, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I look up and smile softly, "Kreese, it's so nice to see you!"

"Hey kiddo." He greets, "I haven't seen you in forever, you've grown up so much!" Kreese ruffles my hair, "I'm so sorry about your parents, how are you feeling?"

I shrug, "I don't know. I'm still processing it but i'm fine, it'll all be okay. Right?"

He nods, a smile curling onto his lips, "It will. Now come on, we have a drive ahead of us." He places his hand on my back, guiding me out to the car.

Kreese and I talked about settling into California, what I liked to do, and his job as a Karate Sensei.

"You know, (y/n). We could use someone as strong and wise like you in Cobra kai." He says.

I furrow my eyebrows, "You really think so?"

Kreese nods, "Yes. My students are all brawn but no brain, well maybe except one of them." He chuckles, "He's my best student, I think you'll get along with him."

I think about it for a moment. Me? Karate? A minute of silence goes by before I sigh, "Alright, i'll join you."

Kreese smiles widely before ruffling my hair, "'Attakid."

〰️

The next morning we went out for breakfast, got enrolled at a nearby school, bought a couple of things I needed, and basically helping me settle into California.

It was not a little late in the afternoon and I sigh, looking out the window. "How would you describe the kids here?"

Kreese looks up from the television then back to me, "Annoying."

I scoff a little, "Well that's helpful."

"I don't know, (y/n). I'm old! It's not like I can roll up to the skate park and just say, "how do you do, fellow kids?"" Kreese replies.

I chuckle and shake my head, "Fair enough. Plus you're a Sensei so i'm sure being in charge of a bunch of kids and teenagers isn't so much fun."

He nods before looking at the time, "You know what? There's this place that all my students go to hang out in. Golf n' Stuff, I think it's called? Anyways, why don't you go over there and try and get acquainted with some of the kids?"

"Yeah! That'd be awesome!" I stand up, grabbing my jacket and a bit of money I had saved up.

"You need me to give you a ride there?" Kreese asks. I shake my head, "I'll take my bike so I can also try and get familiar with the streets." I smile at him.

"Alright, just make sure to be back home by 10:30!" He added. I nod, "Got it, see ya!"

〰️

I lock down my bicycle at the racks, taking a deep breath before walking into the place.

Loud noises from chattering and machines filled my ear, I was somewhat regretting this already but screw it, I had nothing to lose.

Grabbing some tokens for a few of the arcade machines, I step up to the Donkey Kong machine. I quickly start tapping on the controls and avoiding the barrels he'd throw at my character.

"Shit!" I mumble, losing the game. I turn around and see a boy with blonde hair, staring at me along with two of his friends.

I furrow my eyebrows before making my way off to another game, I can still feel their eyes staring at me and before I knew it, the blonde boy was next to me, a smirk on his lips.

"Hey i've never seen you around here before, are you new?" He asks, leaning on the wall. I nod, "Yeah, I just moved here yesterday to live with my Godfather." I reply, "The name's (y/n) (y/l/n). Nice to meet you...?"

"Oh, i'm Johnny Lawrence!" He replies, "(Y/n), that's a lovely name for a lovely person like you."

I chuckle and I can feel my cheeks warm up, "Is that something you say to all of the people you flirt with?"

Johnny shakes his head, "Nope, only with majestic people such as yourself."

"You flatter me, Lawrence."

"Well, I assume you're here alone. Would you like to hang out with me?" He offers. I nod, "Yes, please! That would be lovely."

The entire night is incredible, Johnny and I played on the arcade games, mini golf, and he even tried winning me a stuffed animal from the crane machine but unfortunately fails.

"Let me try!" I step up onto the machine.

"I don't know, babe. It's a little difficult."

I aim for a giraffe stuffed animal and successfully winning the animal, I lean down to reach for my prize and look over at Johnny who looks amazed.

"Here, a little prize as a thank you for being so kind to me, tonight." I hand it over to him.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head, "You're incredible."

I look over at the time and it's 10:21, my eyes widen and I quickly walk outside with Johnny.

I begin to unlock my bike, "I'm so sorry! I have to be home in nine minutes! But thank you for tonight, it was so lovely."

"Wait!" Johnny exclaims, placing a kiss on my cheek, "I hope to see you again, (y/n)."

There goes that not so familiar yet wonderful feeling fluttering in my stomach. "See you around, Lawrence!" I wave goodbye at him, quickly biking back home and making it a minute before my curfew.

〰️

Monday rolls around and so does school and my first lesson at Cobra Kai.

I'm grabbing my books out of the locker when all of a sudden I feel a pair of hands on my shoulder, "Nice to see you again, stranger." A familiar voice rings.

I turn around and see a smiley Johnny, "Johnny, hey! I didn't know you also went here." I smile at him.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" He raises his eyebrow, "So, I realized that I never got your number! This weekend was a little torturing since you were on my mind the entire time but I couldn't call and hear you sweet voice."

I chuckle, "Smooth, Lawrence. And fine, you can have my number." I pull out a piece of paper and write my number on it, handing it to him.

The bell rings and soon everyone is leaving, "I'll call you, see you later!" He waves, I wave goodbye before trying to find my first class.

〰️

Later on, I grab my bike and make my way to Cobra Kai earlier than most of the students.

I push the door and see Kreese, practicing a few moves before I clear my throat and catch his attention. "(Y/n), welcome to Cobra Kai! I have something for you."

I remove my shoes before walking onto the mat and closer to him, he pulls out something white and I gently take it from his hands, "This is my uniform, right?" I ask. "It's called a Gi. You will wear this during class so make sure you always bring it, got it?" He crosses his arms.

I nod, "Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Sir?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"It's Sensei, not sir, not Kreese. Sensei."

"Yes Sensei!"

I change into the Gi and walk outside to see a group of teenagers gathered around the mat.

A familiar face catches my attention and I wave over at him, "Johnny, hey!" I smile.

He excuses himself from his friends and walks over to me, "Hey! What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Oh, my Godfather asked me to join Cobra Kai. I'm not looking forward to getting my ass kicked though." I chuckle.

Johnny nods, "Don't worry, i'll help you out."

"Lawrence! I see you've met my Godchild." Kreese exclaims, walking over to us.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows before finally realizing, "Oh- yes, Sensei, I did!"

A nervous look forms on Johnny's face and Kreese walks closer to us, "Everything okay?"

Johnny gulps, "Yeah! This is just an unexpected surprise. That's it."

"Everyone! This is my Godchild, (y/n). They will start training with us and I expect you to treat them as one of your own. Is that clear?" Kreese announces.

"Yes Sensei!" The class replies.

〰️

"So, that was quite unexpected." I hear Johnny state.

I nod, "Yeah, i'm guessing you're that 'best student' he mentioned to me."

"Oh jeez, this complicates things a little. Do you think Sensei will kill me if I ask you out on a date?"

I pause and look over at him, "You were gonna ask me out?"

Johnny nods, "I'm still planning on it." He smirks and walks closer to me, "I think you're worth the risk."