#mostly just happy I got this done after getting food poisoning last night and not sleeping At All ha h a

[humming-fly]

It's time for Team Dark Week Day 2! The treasure hunt continues On The Road.

Today's prompt "Prodigy" worked pretty well for the gag I wanted (why would they have topographic maps in space it's not Shadow's fault he didn't know what that was surely) and the color scheme worked real nice!

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[talldarkandroguesome]

3rd of Hearthfire, Sundas

Having the girls home is such a delight! The sound of joyous laughter and shrieks of delight fill the manor in a way that makes it feel as though we have been woefully silent in these rooms for too long.

And enjoy it I must. Apparently Nabine was so furious about my not being there when she last sent the girls, that she almost did not consent to letting them come at all. The House managed to negotiate and agreed upon two weeks. TWO weeks! I only have half as much time as I ought to with my girls. My heart is so heavy. But I am glad for any time at all. I shall make the most of it.

I also got a response from Tel, they are looking to visit as soon as they are allowed leave, so we may soon have a very full house indeed. In a way, there is something lovely and exciting about having so many rooms occupied by those I care for.

Avon seems very stressed about everything, but I know he will enjoy it. He does so love our children. And I know he gets on well with Tel, too. If Plays-With-Fire is still in town then I am sure we can have a lovely game night. There will be enough of us to play some adult games once the children are in bed. That should help him to feel a bit more mentally stimulated. I know he has said before sometimes he feels like he has too many conversations with children and not enough engaging cerebral stimulus.

Our welcome party was a great hit and Sildras invited some of the children from his riding and astronomy classes to join. So we had children running all about and enjoying a banquet of food and games. I gave the staff a bonus for the cleaning after the party, knowing it would be particularly treacherous. But all in all the girls seemed to feel very welcomed. Kuna was a particular star with her boldness and natural leadership. Cariel is far more shy, but Kuna was not afraid to demand others follow her lead. And they generally were interested in doing so. She lead the other children around like a general with her troops.

The girls actually managed to sleep in today. I think they must have really tuckered themselves out with all the games and running about. Kuna even slept in her own bed without any issue. Cariel was in Sildras' bed by morning. I could not help but be proud to see how good an older brother he is and how much he has been taking care of her in particular. Kuna does not seem interested in having the brotherly support. She shows that she loves him, but she mostly seems interested in doing her own thing. She reminds me so much of Nabine. She really does take after her.

Usually I am happy for this, but despite having part of the garden closed off while the last of toxic substances is being removed, she decided she would prove herself strong enough to deal with them and I caught her just as she was climbing in there.

She refused to come back and jumped towards the pile of dirt. On instinct, I teleported between her and it and ended up taking a cloud of the stuff right to the face. I managed to keep her relatively out of it. She has a small upset of the stomach and her nose has been running.

The curse poison potion we gave her has her nearly better. IT has not done quite so much for me. I took so much of it into my lungs and Avon had a healer sent for. Apparently there is so much in there that they can only easy the symptoms. I cannot imagine what would have happened if Kuna had landed in there in my stead. She has not built up the tolerance that I have. Mostly I just feel very sluggish. My body is fighting off the effects as the healer comes and helps to move out of the tissue of my lungs the poison bit by bit. My breathing is difficult and my nose very difficult to breathe through.

As long as my daughter has learned her lesson and recovers, I am happy to go through this. Luayl, seeing my condition, has given me tomorrow off from my training. He says we shall see how I fair by Tirdas before he makes any decisions.

I look forward to having some more activities for the girls. Their lessons end and then they would spend more time with Sildras, but he has his riding and astronomy to practice. He has also asked to resume painting, now that he knows that Tel is coming to visit. I need to see what activities the girls may be interested in. I want them to get the most out of their time.

[joshslater]

Bulk Bucket

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"Time's up, Parker" Ronan Parker felt a firm grip on his arm from someone who had walked up behind him and was now steering him. It was Seth Dale from the football team, though Ronan could never remember what position he played. Sport wasn't a big part of his life, and while he knew most of the players, it was mostly to keep up with the latest gossip. He had been big before the summer, but now he was huge. What had he been up to?

"Good news, Parker. We are going to help each other out." Ronan looked to his other side and saw Nigel Wilkinson, running back on the team. He too was way bigger than before. Had they been working out together over the summer? "Yeah," Seth continued, "we asked around, and everyone agreed we wanted you."

They flanked him on either side and walked him around the corner, away from the library he was heading to. "Christina started to call Brennan by the name you came up with, Brawnan. He really wanted you to help us out" Ronan felt a pit in his guts. Wherever this march ended, it would be payback time. Not being athletic enough for any of the teams, or had enough patience to really shine academically, he'd used his street smarts and social skills to be an authoritative voice on who was cool and who was a joke in the school. The jocks had decidedly been on his shit-list. Not because he really disliked them, he didn't know them, but because it was easy to come up with jokes and every other guy, and many of the girls, would happily join in for their own reasons. Some were envious, some rejected the patriarchal idolization, and some were just getting even after years of getting bullied. But now the tax was due.

Ronan didn't even try to resist. Outrun the running back? Even shake out of Seth's grip would be a feat. They exited the main building and walked towards the sports center. Ronan went through hazings he could recall and started to put them in order of suck. Tied to the flag pole would be preferable to being suspended and used as a punching bag. What about stuffed in a locker with smelly training gear? Probably depends on what gear and the size of the locker. He wasn't that big, so he could fit in all the new ones. "You're awfully silent all of a sudden," Nigel said as we crossed the concrete square outside the main building. "You don't have a new joke for us? The one about beef broth was hilarious to some." Ronan remained silent, thinking that was probably the sane thing to do. "Hey, what about the meatloaf one? People used it for weeks," Seth chipped in.

Nigel opened the doors for them, all the way to their locker room. Inside it was the entire team waiting. The moment they entered the happy banter instantly died down to silence as they walked into the room. Ronan got a shock seeing them. He recognized them all, of course, but the muscles they all packed on during the summer was unreal. Impossible even. The room was quite big, but somehow it felt very cramped with a whole football team's worth of large bodies around him. All had gym clothes on, of more or less revealing kinds. The air was damp and there was a smell of sweat and testosterone in the air. All eyes were on him, but he couldn't make out their expressions. It ranged anywhere from triumphant to muted. Jonathan walked up to Nigel with a protein drink shaker. "All there, freshly squeezed" The shaker was milky white plastic, almost opaque, with a dark, green-tinted liquid inside. Nigel gave it a few shakes. It looked to be about two cups of something sloshing around in it.

"Ok, anyone not ready?" Seth asked the room. There was a second of silence. "Let's begin then." Nigel handed over the shaker to Ronan. "Drink up, funny boy". Ronan's mind was racing. What was in the shaker? Were they trying to get him drunk, or to shit himself? He knew one thing, it would be pointless to struggle surrounded by what looked like a spartan army. Hesitantly he opened the cap, put the opening to his lips, and began to sample its contents. It was sour, it was bitter, it was salty, it was sweet, but more than anything it tested of herbs. Like someone had made a herbal smoothie with whatever they found in their garden, plus lime. "Hurry up, all of it" The liquid wasn't as thick as a smoothie, but it wasn't just water either. Ronan emptied the shaker faster, shaking out the last drops at the end as a pretend front of courage. Almost immediately a loud groan came from his intestines. Then another one. "What's that? I didn't really hear you," Seth joked, and got a murmur of laughter from the team.

Ronan felt clammy and sweaty, like the first signs of food poisoning. Apparently it showed as well, as Seth continued "Not feeling well, you say? You should take a seat." Ronan was showed down unto one of the benches by several hands. He was feeling dizzy. "It's working. Get the stone" someone said. From behind someone tied a leather strap with a stone pendant around his neck. Ronan just wanted to take a hot shower, maybe throw up, and go to bed. Sitting down they all looked even more imposing, looking down on him.

"How long until he's ready?" ask someone Ronan maybe recognized as Harry. It was hard to tell with their new bodies. "The fuck do I know, " Nigel responded. "It's not like we've done this before. Let's give it time to make sure it is fully absorbed. We have all afternoon after all."

"Let's show him what we got," Seth said to Nigel. Ronan still felt like shit, but it was kind of stabilizing. He watched as Seth and Nigel removed their shirts to show off their impossibly well-sculpted bodies. They had been regular jocks as they left for summer break, muscled for sure, but no where near this. "Ok, story time while we wait," Nigel started. "So this year the team had its summer camp over at the reservation. Pretty much the same as every year. Even if the location is different, there are the fires, the tents, outdoor sports and such. It's just that one evening one old indian dude showed up. He wasn't part of the organizers, cause we hadn't seen us before or since, but he talked about how you could channel the spirits around us. Nice camp fire story, but not much more to it. Not until a few nights later when a few of us got high and saw... Well, we realized some shit that turned out to actually work. Being a team we all did it, and perhaps a bit too much, since we ended up like this."

"The coach was fucking furious," Seth jumped in. "Turns out we got a bit greedy on strength and got way more pounds to haul across the field than we can win with, so we need to make some adjustments," Nigel concluded. Ronan started to get the picture, though wasn't sure what it would mean for him. Seth continued "We can't just give all of this back. It doesn't work like that, so we were all in agreement that the best bulk bucket to dump all the excess muscle on is you. The way you've run your fucking mouth off all last year, it sounded like a cry for help."

"Fuck it, let's do it now, " Nigel interrupted. He grabbed a wooden stick with both hands, and held it out in front of him. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate on something. Ronan could feel the heat building in his legs, and then tiny vibrations, like when you are pushing yourself to your limit and the muscle is about to fail of exhaustion. Then it spread upwards in his body, the heat, the vibrations, and followed by spasms. Nigel stood completely still, eyes closed, and concentrated. Then Ronan saw how Nigel slowly started to shrink. Slowly and subtly, but he was changing. From what he had been told Ronan assumed the opposite was happening to him, but he couldn't really focus enough to register that. His entire body was just a blur of vibrations, heat, and discomfort.

Then it all stopped, almost instantly. Nigel opened his eyes and inspected himself. He still looked amazing, but more appropriate for a football player his age. "Fuck yeah!" Seth exclaimed, and the entire room erupted in cheers and high fives.

"One down and the rest to go. You'll probably feel like shit until everyone who jizzed in your potion is done," Nigel told Ronan, while handing over the stick to Seth.

Ronan was wide awake and was greeted by staring into a pair of pecs as he opened his eyes. It hadn't been a bad dream after all. He really had been in that locker room for hours, getting more and more pumped with muscles as one after the other of the team grabbed the stick and spent some five, ten minutes on transferring muscles over to him. He had felt less and less sick as they progressed, but his heart sunk lower and lower by what was happening to his body. After about a quarter of them he needed to get out of his clothes. His feet hurt the most, but fabric was straining everywhere. He realized he was as buff as any of them, and by the half point he was confident he could kick the shit out of any of them, but to what end? If he ran away they would just continue anyway. Perhaps the pendant was needed, and he could rip that off, but just as Nigel said he was feeling like shit. So he stayed and went from his thin, normal self, through athletic, jock, muscular, swole, to whatever bodybuilding monstrosity he was now.

He didn't cry, that's not the kind of person he was, but he felt like he should as the now recognizable players went through his greatest hits of jock insults, and a whole list of new ones like meatpacker, swole sink, and hunkty dumpty. Harry had brought a roll of stickers from a supermarket saying "USDA Prime" and put one on his chest. After he had removed it he got another one stuck on his back, and to everyone's great amusement he couldn't reach that far back with all his new muscles. Someone had brought some clothes he could actually fit in. A pair of well worn, bulky sneakers, a pair of spandex shorts, and a stringer with the print "Size Matters", all raided from the lost and found at local gyms apparently.

A lot of the players had left after they had adjusted themselves, and the last few of them left just after having thrown the clothes at him. Ronan sat in shock and disbelief for a long while before he got up and put on the scant pieces of clothing, gathered his belongings, and started to head home. He felt off, but wasn't sure how much was residual of the tonic he drank and what was just his new normal. The way his thighs made him waddle and his chest and arm muscles made the arms stand out wouldn't go away just with a night of good sleep.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #179

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building the other half of Team Tyrannical Shooting Star, Artoria (Rider Alter)! This version of Artoria is totally a maid, and as such she’s a Battle Master Fighter to coach other servants while wielding sniper rifles and swords, a Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer so she can fight in a swimsuit, and a Zeal Cleric to clean up the battlefield through sheer force of will.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Team Satisfaction H∴T∴E!

Race and Background

Artoria’s still human, but she’s a copy of a copy, so that’s pretty Variant if you ask me. This gives her +1 Dexterity and Charisma, the Insight skill for better... maiding? She also gets the Sharpshooter feat, which lets you ignore disadvantage from long range shots so you can sniper with your rifle, ignore all but full cover, and you can take a -5 penalty to hit with a ranged weapon to deal an extra 10 damage. Basically: boom, headshot.

You’re also a variant Noble for your background, grabbing proficiency with History and swapping out Persuasion for Intimidation. We’ve played this song and dance before.

Ability Scores

In case you couldn’t tell from the feat, we’re investing heavily in Dexterity this time around. Turns out, firing a sniper rifle from the back of a moving motorcycle requires good balance. You also have pretty good Wisdom- you can’t hit a target before you see it, and you can’t clean a mess before you find it either. Third is Charisma, you’re pretty intimidating, and you’ve got to know how to conduct yourself to be a proper maid. Your Constitution isn’t terrible, riding on waves isn’t easy. Your Strength isn’t that high, we just don’t need it, but we’re dumping Intelligence. Your skills in maidery come from persistence, not know-how.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: Staring off as a fighter gives you plenty of goodies right off the bat; proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Acrobatics and Perception for the aforementioned sniping off a motorcycle, the Archery fighting style for more accurate shots, and Second Wind to heal yourself as a bonus action. Knowing when to sharpen your axe is half the battle of chopping down a tree.

2. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get an Action Surge once per short rest, giving you an extra action for a turn. Maids need to be able to handle a thousand tasks at once, after all.

3. Cleric 1: Bouncing over to Zeal Cleric now makes you a Priest of Zeal right away, letting you attack as a bonus action after you attack with your action Wisdom Modifier times per long rest. You can now (to a limited capacity) dual wield a gun and a sword. You also learn some Spells that use your Wisdom to cast and prepare. Included in the zeal package is Searing and Thunderous Smite in case you wanted to feel like a paladin again.

You also get Guidance to coach your allies, Mending to mend things, and Light to light your master’s way at night since your dumb human eyes don’t work at night. For other spells, Detect Poison and Disease will alert you to areas of filth, and Purify Food and Drink will let you dust a 5′ radius sphere of food to remove it. That is the purpose of dusting, right?

4. Sorcerer 1: We aren’t staying here long, but I wanted to pick up your Draconic Bloodline for your Draconic Resilience, giving you an extra hit point and an AC of 13 + your dexterity modifier while not wearing armor. You also get Draconic Ancestry to double your proficiency bonus against dragons.

You also get another set of Spells, this time using your Charisma to cast. Grab Booming Blade, True Strike, and Magic Missile for more combat focused spells, Friends to make your intimidation checks even easier, Mage Hand to swap weapons more easily, and Expeditious Retreat to speed yourself up. You’re relying on Nero for your bike, but it wouldn’t hurt to be good at running either.

5. Fighter 3: Bouncing back to fighter now for your martial archetype; the Battle Master! When you become a battle master you become a Student of War, giving you proficiency with one type of artisan’s tools. Unfortunately they forgot to make cleaning supplies and option, but you can always go with Cook’s Utensils for the added bonus of getting to feed yourself.

You also get Combat Superiority, four d8s that recharge on short rest. You can spend one die per attack (or in another way, depending on the maneuver) to switch up how your attack works, adding extra effects.

Commander’s Strike forgoes your own attack to give another ally the chance to attack as a reaction, and they add the d8 to their damage. Your Commanding Presence gives you a bonus to your intimidation checks (among others). You also get a Maneuvering Attack, adding the die to your damage and letting an ally move as a reaction without provoking attacks from the target you just hit. If you really want them to move, you can always shoot them instead.

6. Fighter 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a Crossbow Expert. This lets you ignore loading on crossbows so you can use Priest of Zeal on your sniper rifle, ignore disadvantage on ranged attacks while enemies are within 5′ of you, and you can officially dual wield a crossbow with your excalibur without needing Priest of Zeal, opening it up for that snipering I was talking about a few clauses back.

7. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack, giving you two attacks per action, three per turn while dual-wielding, or 4-5 with your action surge. Get more done faster, the essence of maiding.

8. Cleric 2: At second level, clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in one of two ways. Saying you can Turn Undead is a bit of a stretch, but a lot of ghosts are casters, so I doubt they’d be happy to see you. Alternatively, your Consuming Fervor lets you maximize the damage of one thunder or fire effect for more effective grenades. Only the best; this attention to detail is why you’re a professional.

9. Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, like your freebies Magic Weapon and Shatter for a better excalibur and a stun grenade. You can also use Enhance Ability for more coaching, and Lesser Restoration to fix up old cars. Wait, that’s not what that spell does?

10. Cleric 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Wisdom for better maidliness and stronger spells.

11. Cleric 5: Fifth level clerics see their turn undead become Destroy Undead, instantly killing any zombies or the like of CR 1/2 or lower who fail their wisdom save.

You also get third level spells this level, like Fireball for a bigger grenade and Haste to turn whatever nonsense Nero builds into a proper racing machine. Speaking of, you’ve got to get your motorcycle seaworthy for your noble phantasm, so pick up Water Walk so it won’t sink.

12. Cleric 6: At sixth level you can Channel Divinity twice per rest, and as a zeal cleric you also get a Resounding Strike when dealing thunder damage to creatures, pushing them up to 10 feet away. You’re a maid, it would just be weird if you couldn’t sweep people off the battlefield.

13. Fighter 6: Use this ASI to become more Alert, to give yourself a +5 initiative bonus, immunity to surprise, and to prevent hidden creatures from attacking with advantage. A maid’s job is never done.

14. Fighter 7: As a seventh level battle master, you Know Your Enemy, letting you spend 1 minute to figure out two characteristics of your enemy. You find out if it is better than, worse than, or equal to you in the following: Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, AC, current HP, Total class levels, and fighter class levels. You also get a 5th die each short rest.

You also get two more maneuvers. Pushing Attack continues that sweeping theme from last time by dealing more damage and pushing the enemy away if they fail a strength save (dc 8+proficiency+dexterity modifier), and Tactical Assessment adds the die to your Investigation, History, or Insight check.

15. Fighter 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for more accurate shots and more powerful pushes.

16. Fighter 9: Nine levels of fighter make you Indomitable, letting you re-roll a failed save once per long rest.

17. Fighter 10: Your Improved Combat Superiority makes all your maneuvers more deadly, by turning your superiority dice into d10s.

On top of that, you get one more round of maneuvers. Grab a Precision Attack to add the die to your attack roll rather than the damage for super sniping and Sweeping Attack mostly for the name. It lets you attack a second creature with the same roll as the first, dealing the superiority die in damage.

18. Fighter 11: Eleventh level fighters get another Extra Attack each action, and this one does stack with the original, giving you 3 attacks with one action, 4 with your bonus action added in, and up to 7 when you use your action surge.

19. Fighter 12: Use your last ASI for more Wisdom, giving you stronger spells and more Priest of Zeal activations.

20. Fighter 13: Your capstone level gives you a second use of Indomitable each long rest. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s extra protection, which is never a bad thing.

Pros:

Thanks to sharpshooter you have a massive range of combat, and thanks to spells like haste and Nero’s vehicles you’ll have plenty of speed to make the most use of them.

You can deal pretty consistent damage thanks to your bevy of attacks and the sharpshooter feat helping you put holes in heads from hundreds of feet away.

Despite your distance from the rest of the party, maneuvers only have a range based on sight and hearing, so you can freely support the party by giving them extra attacks, and helping them get out of sticky situations with maneuvering strikes, resounding strikes, and pushing attacks. You’re also pretty helpful outside of combat with healing and spells like Enhance Ability to help with skill challenges.

Cons:

While not terrible, your health isn’t great thanks to that dip into cleric and sorcerer. I wouldn’t call it bad necessarily, just try extra hard not to get cornered.

Even with Tactical Assessment helping out a bit, you’ve still got a low intelligence, which might make the more intellectual parts of maiding a bit harder than they need to be.

While your physical attacks are super long range, you’ve still got normal spell ranges, meaning you can’t take full advantage of the sharpshooter feat if you want to chuck grenades as well.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 29

; Hoseok x Reader

;Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Warnings: Discussions of periods and contraception

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I know it’s taking a long time for me to update this but I hope you enjoy it :D Please reblog if you do and let me know what you think my commenting on this or sending me an ask!

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Hey, meeps,” You hear Hoseok’s voice calling to you from the end of the aisle, his new nickname for you now gaining its own nickname as well. “If sunflower oil is made from sunflowers, and coconut oil is made from coconuts...then baby oil…”

He trails off, raising his eyebrows and giving you a scandalous look as he holds up a bottle of baby oil. For a moment, you just stare at him blankly before sighing and rolling your eyes in amusement. Taking the bottle from him, you place it back down onto the shelf before linking your arm through his.

Thankfully, he lets you direct him back to the little section they have in this makeup and skincare store that’s fully dedicated to Korean beauty. This is one of those strange stores where they have tons of products that are basically on sale yet also have branded stuff alongside it. Not that you cared though; it had the Korean brands you swore by for your skin and you were more than tempted to try out the Japanese beauty stand next to it.

For someone who isn’t particularly bothered about the whole concept of skincare, though you had managed to convince him to at least improve his routine, Hoseok was being a pretty good boyfriend right now. He hadn’t complained about the half an hour you’d spent perusing the makeup to find new stuff to put into your collection and he still wasn’t complaining as you filled your basket with face masks.

If anything, he’d managed to entertain himself quite well. 

But you think he was being good purely because you’d gone with him to a concert last night. It had been for one of his favourite bands, Metallica, and he’d ended up with a spare ticket as Jungkook had ended up ill with food poisoning. He had been about to go on his own, but you hadn’t liked the thought of him being lonely so you’d gone with him.

You’d recognised some of the songs they’d played from whenever Hoseok played them in the car or the house but it hadn’t been your scene. Still, it had been fun enough and you’d more than enjoyed seeing Hoseok happy as he’d rocked out to his beloved band.

It did mean that you were exceptionally tired today though as the two of you hadn’t gotten home from the stadium they’d performed in until after 2 am. That had been the closest performance apparently and you’d been shattered, sleeping until well after 11 am. Hoseok had promised you a day of relaxation, which you’d jumped on by asking him to do a full Korean skincare routine with you tonight.

He’d agreed, and you’d eagerly dragged him out to this store to replenish your supplies. The makeup was just because it was there and you couldn’t resist it. Already you were coming up with ideas for looks in your head that you could create and then put onto your Instagram. Moving places had meant that you hadn’t done many looks lately and you were eager to change that.

Especially now that you had a yard to take nice photos in. Hoseok and you had both been working hard on the weekends and evenings to transform the yard from the overgrown mess it had been into something nice. Nothing too amazing or expensive as it wasn’t your own house but nice enough that it made from some pretty aesthetic photos.

Placing a final bottle of moisturiser in your basket, you smile at Hoseok and hold it up proudly. He just looks at you in amusement for a second before smiling back.

“All done! We can go to pay now.” While you pay for all your new stuff, he goes and waits outside for you. Which you discover means he intently window shops at the video game store, getting that look on his face when he wants to do something.

Feeling that your bladder is a little too full right now, you glance over to where the public restrooms are and move over to Hoseok. “You can go in if you want, I’m going to the restroom so I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He takes your bag for you like the gentleman he is before disappearing inside, immediately making a beeline for the Playstation 4 section. You have a feeling he might be about to drop some money given how interested he’d been in some of the new games that have been released in the last few months.

Any thoughts of games are wiped from your mind very quickly though when you’re on the toilet. The sight of red staining your underwear has your eyes widening in horror as you realise that your period has decided to make an early appearance. For a moment you simply stare, brow creasing before you reach for your bag and grab your phone.

The period app you use says that you shouldn’t have started for another four days and you curse your body for doing whatever it likes. Scowling at the stain, you attempt to clean it before sighing in defeat, acknowledging that at least you were wearing black jeans today.

Another rummage in your bag causes you to find another problem, this one sending ice water running through your veins. Grabbing it and placing it onto your knees, you visually scan through every space and almost pull out the entire contents before letting out a small sound of despair.

You had no tampons.

Cursing to yourself quietly, you finish up and make do with an almost ridiculously large amount of toilet paper. Rushing out, you wash your hands before moving over to the machine that always had condoms, sanitary pads and tampons.

Only to see the ‘sold out’ sign on both the buttons you need. Groaning quietly, you do a little dance of frustration as you realise there are not even any other women in the restroom for you to ask. Not that you would. As if your social anxiety would allow for that!

So instead you have to slink outside and into the game shop, lip jutting out in a slight pout as you become hyper-aware of yourself. Can other people smell the blood? What if you leak through all the toilet paper and it does somehow show through your jeans?! What if you leak through onto a chair!

Hoseok wanted to get something to eat after this and you were dreading having to sit there for ages. Playing with your fingers nervously, you move over to where he’s crouched in front of the PS4 stand. He already has two game cases in his hand and is reading the back of another one, your bag of goodies on the floor between his feet.

Glancing up at you, he grins brightly before showing the cover of one of the cases he’s got.

“Look! The Spider-Man game is on sale! You want to play this, right?” Absentmindedly, you nod. The back of your mind takes in the fact that he’s also got Divinity: Original Sin 2 in his ‘buy’ hand and the other case he’s considering is the Doom remake. You wish that you could let him browse more but the drug store wasn’t close by and you didn’t want to just abandon him suddenly.

Still, the thought of what was going on down below was overwhelming and you found yourself shaking his shoulder slightly.

“Hey, are you done? Can we go?” Reaching down, you take your bag back and stand back as he rises, the crease between his brows letting you know he’s a little confused as to why you’re suddenly rushing him. He knows full well that there’s nothing important you need to do.

Still, though, he doesn’t question it and instead nods slowly. While he goes and pays for the games he’s buying, you go to wait by the entrance. Wrapping your arms around your waist, you realise that the low ache in your back that you’d had for a day or so was one of those early symptoms you got of your period.

Only you hadn’t thought anything about it. Not when you’d spent a few hours last night stood up. You’d just thought it was because you’d done a lot of work in the yard combined with the concert. Apparently not.

You’re pretty much already walking in the direction of the drug store by the time Hoseok comes out, causing him to have to jog to catch up with you. All you can think about is whether or not walking faster or slower would make things worse.

“Woah, hey, where are we going?” Hoseok asks, matching his speed to yours. You’re just thankful that there are not too many people out shopping today because it would only increase your stress levels if there was a big queue that you had to wait in or something.

“Just, to this store.” Admittedly, you’re not being very open and honest right now. But you’re embarrassed. Hoseok is fully aware of your periods and that they’re very much a thing that happens. They’d become a little more irregular recently as you’d had a copper IUD put in around a month before moving in with him.

Nothing drastic or anything, but then again they were also sometimes longer and a little heavier than you were used to when you were on the pill. It wasn’t exactly something you enjoyed talking about with anyone though; Soyeon and Chungha were pretty open about this kind of stuff but you had always mostly stayed quiet whenever they talked about it.

Which was silly. They were women who fully understood what you were going through and Hoseok understood that it was a monthly event. So it wasn’t like he’d be shocked to find out or anything. If anything, you’d probably done a bit of a bad job in explaining some things to him as you’d always got too shy whenever he’d asked things.

That was bad, you were well aware. But you’d only really got comfortable talking about sexual things with him. You knew that there were guys who thought it was gross that women bled for a week or so. Hoseok had never made those kinds of comments, but still. You were a work in progress.

“We’ve already been in here, why are you dragging me like Jason Voorhees is running after us with a knife?” He whines when you enter the store. You’re not surprised he’s confused because he’s right, you had come in here earlier and picked up what you needed. Still, though, he follows close by.

“I thought we didn’t need anything else.” Comes from him next, his lip pouting and you get the sense that he wanted to spend more time in the game store. A rush of guilt and shame washes over you, causing you to grip his hand even tighter as you shuffle awkwardly in place for a moment.

Finally in the store though, you realise just how silly you’re being with him. It’s not like he’s going to get outraged or upset. And you’re sure he’d have been much more willing to come along if he hadn’t been dragged along half the street with no idea what was happening.

Leaning into him, you cough slightly before swallowing as you feel yourself go hot with anxiety.

“My period started.” You whisper, keeping the words quiet enough so that he can hear them without having anyone else overhear. Though the rational part of your mind knew that you shouldn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thought. It was a natural, bodily function and all that.

Your mind has never quite done things rationally though.

Hoseok has heard you though, you can tell by the way his head tilts to the side ever so slightly. But his expression is blank for a moment before his brow creases in obvious confusion, lips pursing as he contemplates what you’ve just told him.

“Okay...so why are we here?” Annnnd there it is. That famed male obliviousness to female problems. You couldn’t get annoyed at him though, not when he was good with you on everything else. He was cute.

“It’s early? And I have nothing to use. So I need to buy some.” His face changes immediately when he understands finally, mouth curving into an ‘o’ shape as he lets out a noise of recognition. It then contorts into worry for you, his eyes glancing down to your crotch area with wide eyes.

“Wait, so that means you’re...just…” He creates a rushing gesture with his hands, imitating a waterfall as he makes a ‘whoosh’ noise with his mouth. It’s a little too loud for your liking and you hiss at him, poking at his stomach before quickly pulling him over to the menstrual health aisle.

“I’ve used some toilet paper but it probably won’t last. It’s come on pretty hard and fast today. Please don’t laugh.” You beg him and his face sobers immediately, eyes darting over your own as he takes in your distressed appearance. Licking at his lips, he inhales deeply before nodding.

“Okay, you use tampons, right? So like...which ones? You never keep the box.” Automatically he starts to look over all the boxes of tampons; staring at the brands, types and absorption levels like he’s reading signs in Mandarin or something. It makes you want to laugh, despite the situation.

You appreciate his eagerness to help though, even when he points at random boxes with absolutely zero knowledge of what it was.

“What’s the difference in the brands? Is there a difference? Or is it like...when you buy those store brand biscuits and realise they taste the same as the branded biscuits only to find out that they’re made in the same factory and just relabelled?” That makes you snort with amusement, particularly as he’s now holding up a box of Tampax and a store brand to try and see the difference.

He’s not finished yet though, and even though you still feel the urgency to just grab some and run, you can’t help but let him entertain you. Because that’s what he’s doing. You’re not oblivious, you’ve realised over time that if you’re feeling anxious or uncomfortable or shy, Hoseok will often use humour to distract you away from your negativity.

It’s nice, which is why you let him carry on for a minute or so more.

“What are the drops for? And what’s the difference between regular and super? I mean, I think you’re pretty super but is this like...super big or something? Wait, is this plastic?! How does it absorb blood if it’s plastic?” Rolling your eyes at him, you bite your lip to stop the laughter that wants to escape before reaching past him to grab the box you usually buy.

Lifting it, you decide for a quick crash course in tampons. As your boyfriend, you never know when you might need him to run out to the store for some and the last thing you need is him bringing the entirely wrong type back.

“I use Tampax, purely cos it’s just the brand I’ve always used and I’m familiar with it. Super and regular are like the absorption so you’d use a super for the first few days when a period is heaviest. Hence why I’m getting these. The drops are the absorption rating too basically and it’s not plastic, that’s just the applicator that makes it easier to insert.” You say it all pretty quickly, but quietly enough that only he hears. 

Not that there’s any need, the store is loud enough that your conversation can’t be overheard and on top of that, there’s no one in this aisle anyway. But Hoseok nods thoughtfully, scanning the front of the box carefully.

“When we get home, I think I need a crash course in periods because I’m feeling pretty useless and dumb right now.” Laughing, you lean up to kiss his cheek quickly before heading in the direction of the cashiers.

“We can do that for you. It’s better to be educated after all. This is where I find out that you have this bizarre knowledge that is unbelievably wrong and I cringe.” Hoseok doesn’t answer back to that, causing you to look back and chuckle at his meek shrug and wince.

“What can I say? I’ve never had a girlfriend long enough to learn and education in high school was terrible. I’m not even gonna try to defend myself.” Humming lightly, you grin at him as you pay before heading out of the store. Looking in the direction of the toilets, you twist your lips as you consider your options.

“You want to eat at that place, right?” You ask, nodding your head towards the Japanese place that was down the opposite end of the street. Hoseok looks that way and nods, confirming his desire to you. Already you can feel your stomach rumble as you imagine the delicious food.

“Okay, we’ll just go there and I’ll go straight to the restroom in there. Come on.” Reaching you, you take his hand and smile up at him, your walk not so hurried now compared to before. Not that you aren’t completely aware of the fact that you’re free bleeding from your vagina right now, but walking faster might just aggravate it more. 

You had what you needed, so now you could relax a little more.

-

“Why are there so many steps in this? Don’t you get bored?” Hoseok mumbles, his words a little slurred due to the fact you’re rubbing serum into his cheeks. He’s already been here for ages in the bathroom as you’d used a cleanser to clean his face before exfoliating and then using toner on some cotton pads. 

You could tell that he was amused by the whole situation, even though he’d seen you do this many times before. But it was different experiencing it for himself you supposed. Still, he looked so adorable and you cooed to him, squishing his cheeks even more in amusement.

“No. It’s relaxing. You’re supposed to relax.” That makes him scowl, the expression not nearly as intense as he was going for given you’ve got his lips in the cutest pout. Still, you’re finished with that part so you let him go, laughing as he runs his fingers over his skin.

“I’m not relaxed. More...manhandled.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes as you get to work rubbing the serum you need into your skin, focusing on your eyes. The dark circles beneath them were far too...well dark for your liking.

“Okay, how’s your skin lately? Dry? Oily?” Frowning at you, he twists his lips as he considers your question. He’s been taking better care of his skin than he had been before dating you, but you knew that he still didn’t care that much. Surprisingly though, he has an answer for you.

“Dry?” Nodding to yourself, you reach through your box of face masks and pull out a moisturising one. Handing it over to him, you take your own and rip it open, pulling out the mask and carefully putting it on. Hoseok watches you intently before opening up his mask, his face immediately twisting into a cringe.

“Ewwww, oh my god. Why is it so slimy?!” He whines, holding it over the sink like it’s some monster that might kill him. With the mask on your face, you can’t laugh properly like you want to.

“Stop being a baby and put it on.” With a little more whining, he does so, lining it up and putting it onto his face. What follows is then complaints that it’s also cold and feels weird, causing you to roll your eyes at him once more as you help to smooth out any creases in it.

“Right, we’ve got to keep this on for twenty minutes so let’s go watch some Netflix,” Looking over him, you take in how he still manages to look handsome even with a white sheet mask on. “It’s not fair that you always look so good. Honestly.”

Hoseok just shrugs before licking his lips, his reaction immediate as he registers the foul taste. “Oh fuck me, what the fuck. This tastes fucking vile!”

“...you’re not meant to eat it, babe, they don’t make it for the taste.” He washes his hands in the sink to get rid of the remaining residue before following you out to the couch in the living room, Netflix still paused on the large television screen. Kasumi is curled up on her cat tree, fluffy body small as she sleeps quietly.

For around ten minutes, neither of you speak as you continue to watch Warrior Nun. It’s surprisingly got both your attention hooked, so you’re a little surprised when Hoseok suddenly speaks up and distracts you.

“Hey...I know this is a weird time to talk about this but after your whole period thing today it reminded me. So, I’ve been thinking lately. You definitely don’t want kids...right?” He looks at you and you get the impression he would raise his brow if he could. When you nod in response, he blows out a breath slowly.

“Okay...how would you feel if I said I wanted to get a vasectomy? I mean, I know you’ve said you don’t want kids but there’s always a chance that you might and a vasectomy is pretty final. Despite what people say.” Now it’s your for your expression to be mostly hidden by your face mask, your eyes widening until your eyelashes are uncomfortably touching the edges of the holes.

“You want that? I thought guys normally got all weirded out at that prospect. And I don’t want kids, ever. Full stop. Are you sure?” Of all the things you were going to be discussing tonight, you did not expect it to be this. It’s almost amusing that Hoseok has decided right now is the time for something so serious, when you both look so silly.

“I do. I just...I don’t want to risk a pregnancy and I know you’re scared of that too. Also, it’d put less stress on you, I know most birth control is usually aimed at women except for condoms and it’s a lot easier for me to get a vasectomy than for you to get anything done.” That makes you snort in acknowledgement, shifting on the couch until you pull your leg up and wrap your arms around it.

“Yeah, because god forbid a woman not want to fulfil her natural duty and pop out a kid, right?” 

“I’ve been looking into it, I’m pretty sure I could get one. If not, I’ll just talk the doctor’s ear off until they let me. Because it’s gonna happen. It’s way easier and less stressful than anything you have to do.” His dual concern for not wanting to cause an accidental pregnancy that neither of you wanted along with not wanting the burden to fall too heavily on you warms you, causing you to reach out and grasp his hand tightly as you squeeze at it.

“Is it easy? Or quick?” 

“Apparently. Some guys say it doesn’t hurt at all, others said it hurts. But...I’m pretty sure I want it. I just wanted to check with you that you’d be okay with the idea too. As I said, it’s final.” Hoseok smiles at you as best he can, causing you to shuffle a little closer to him. You’d like to rest your head against his shoulder but you’d just get it covered in face mask gunk.

“I mean, it’s your body. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” Pointing this out to him, you look up and tilt your head, your statement almost a question.

It makes him sigh and focus on your hands, shifting them until he could interlink his fingers with your own. You let him do so, figuring he should probably be taking the lead in this conversation. It is about him after all.

“We’re in a relationship. A serious relationship and this decision would affect both of us. It’s cutting off the chance for biological kids, despite people saying you might be able to reverse it. I feel you should have a say too.” Nodding slowly, you hum lightly as you consider his words carefully.

“Well, if you want it then I’ll support you completely. I never want children so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s your decision, but I just want to make sure you think it over properly and do research, okay? Don’t go rushing into it.” That makes him snort in amusement.

“Meeps, if there’s one thing you should know by now; it’s that men do not take decisions regarding their dick and balls lightly. You can be damn sure I’m going to be 100% in my decision if I’m going to let someone come near my balls with a scalpel or somet.” The way he says this is so matter of fact that you can’t help but laugh, the sound not as big or bright as you’d like it to be given you still had your mask on.

“Man, I can’t believe I’m talking about someone knifing my balls while I’m sitting here looking like a dollar store Michael Myers.” Hoseok points at himself, his bemusement clearly obvious despite his poor Halloween costume and you giggle softly.

Reaching out, you run your fingers through his hair that’s currently being held back by a bandana and smile at him softly. “Come on, let’s go get these off and start looking human again.”

Hoseok follows you immediately, already peeling the face mask off and making casual comments about how the mask isn’t as slimy as it had once been. You take off your own and drop it into the small bin in the bathroom, making sure that he does the same.

“Okay, rub it in and pat it dry. Make sure you get the excess to go on your throat and stuff, it’s good for your skin there too.” Hoseok looks in the mirror, his face shining obscenely from the residue leftover and grimaces.

“Ew, this feels...gross,” One hand presses to his skin, rubbing it in and cringing. “Is this what it feels like when I cum on your face?”

The comment is so random that you pause for a moment, all thoughts disappearing as you comprehend what he’s just said. A glance at him makes you realise he’s being completely serious, his expression focused on rubbing his face as you’d told him. It’s moments like this that make you love him even more, the blasé comments he makes that are so funny and yet also x-rated.

“No...not really. That’s more...well it’s not all over, you know? And it’s thicker than this. And I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you. You know what your cum feels like.” A snort from him gives away his bemusement.

“Yeah, but I’ve never smeared it all over my face before.”

“Maybe you should. Experience it for yourself for once. It’s not all that good for you by the way, despite what people say. It has protein but it’s not enough to make it worthwhile or anything, so don’t think I’m going to be asking you for your special facials anytime soon.” Looking away from him, you grab the next item on your routine before looking at him with a smirk.

“Damn, there goes my plan to be self-sufficient. Could’ve made a whole organic spa thing out of it.” 

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Four - Broken

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter mentions and describes panic attacks and contains harsh insults. If you are triggered by it in some way, tread lightly or wait for the next chapter.

And I've had recurring nightmares

That I was loved for who I am

And missed the opportunity

To be a better man

Hoodoo - Muse

He remembered putting a cup together, once. She was lost, and she was hurting, and she was holding on to those shards like they were the broken pieces of her life, and she was bleeding. He held her from behind, offering all his strength, saying her life would be exactly like it was before, he would bring back her past self. She believed him. She let him lead her to bed, and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, only to break down crying the moment he closed the door. Perhaps words wouldn’t help anymore. He would show her.

He spent the night gluing those shards, glass piercing his fingertips, because he believed. He believed in her beauty, and that it should be maintained. He believed in his power to change the outcome, and he would, no matter what it would take.

He looked at the shattered whiskey glass, laying all around his study floor, and he wondered if he was staring at the broken pieces of his life now. He wondered if, like that other glass, he could still put them back together. But most importantly, he wondered if he believed. He believed in her beauty, and that it should be maintained, but he wasn’t so sure about himself. He didn’t know if he believed in his power to change an outcome, because all roads would lead to the same destination: loneliness.

Almost out of habit, he took a deep breath and got up from the floor, assuming his usual strong and stubborn attitude. He had no idea if he could make it, but he would try. He would bleed as much as necessary, but he needed to see that glass whole again. So he picked up all of the shards, one by one, and started putting them all back together.

He woke up hours later, with the sound of voices coming from his kitchen. But they weren’t the happy voices he was used to. They were hoarse, almost whispered, but mostly tired. He looked at the glued pieces on his desk that hardly resembled a glass. Maybe some things can’t be glued together. Maybe some things are irrevocably broken.

For a while, he allowed himself to believe he could also be put together, letting her lovingly handle his broken pieces, admiring how she dutifully and joyfully fit them all together. But the pieces he would let her see wouldn’t stay put, because there were other pieces he would never allow to come to light, and those were needed for a perfect fit. Eventually, those were the shards that mattered the most, the ones that would hurt her. His ugly side. And now that it showed, he could only accept himself as broken.

“What do you think you are doing?” He could still hear his father, in the back of his mind. “Crying won’t bring her back. Now quit being weak and go do something worthy of your time.”

Victor did what he did best, he swept the rest of his shards into a dark corner, and surrounded his heart with an ice cage, which was sturdier than glass. He got up with all the determination he could muster, hoping to chase away the tiredness in his bones, forcing himself to face the world.

He found his family having breakfast, Andrea at the counter, pouring herself some coffee, as Owen sat at the table, eating scrambled eggs.

“Do I really have to?” He heard his son complain.

“I’m sorry, Bug, but yes, we have to.”

Victor opened the kitchen door.

“But it’s the teacher’s last day tomorrow, and we prepared a farewell show for her. And she said she would show us pictures of the baby inside of her.” He whined, poking some food on his plate. “We made her a drawing and…” The boy trailed off, staring at his father with wide eyes.

Crack.

The scared look Owen gave him, so similar to the one he had when he came to their home, felt like a punch in his gut, shaking his icy wall violently. Owen feared him. Victor had lost his son’s trust.

“You’re up.” She spoke tentatively. “We tried not to wake you up.”

Her eyes were puffy, with large dark circles under them. It was clear that she had been crying all night.

Crack.

“I need to get ready for work.” He retorted, walking to the door.

“Wait, I need to talk to you… Victor!”

Victor ignored her, trying to get out of that kitchen as soon as possible. Although he deserved it, it hurt to see his family so distant from him, obviously upset by the way he had been acting for the last couple of days. He decided to avoid the situation completely, opting for a shower and change of clothes instead. Chances were that by the time he was done, Andrea would already be gone to take Owen to school.

The walls around his heart shook again, a major crack running deep in the icy surface, as he noticed an item on their bed. The open suitcase, filled with folded clothes, felt like a dagger stuck in his chest. Crack.

“Me and Owen…” He heard her behind him. For some reason she couldn’t continue, so the silence hung cold between them, as he kept staring at the suitcase. He wouldn’t be able to look at her anyway.

“I forgot to tell you, Olive asked me to go to Queensland, there is a potential partner there she wants me to talk to.”

Victor stood in place, as the ice he used as a defense mechanism was now spreading all over his body. His eyes never left the suitcase, as it could somehow spring into action and shred him to pieces.

“I’m taking Owen with me. The nanny is coming along as well. She will take care of him while I’m working. I'm considering spending a few days there, maybe try to visit the castle.”

You’re leaving me. Crack.

“You don’t have to worry about LCG, Diane will be on top of things and you can refer to her at any time. And me. If you want to.”

Fuck LCG. You are leaving me.

“I…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Things are not well between us. I’m not well and you’re not well. I figured we could use the time apart. Maybe talk when I get back.”

So you can serve me the divorce papers. Crack.

“It will be only for a few days.”

A wave of nausea hit him before he could say anything else, so hard that he thought he would vomit right there and then. But he knew this was something else. He needed to run, he needed to run fast. The walls were becoming unsteady, shaking with the feelings he wouldn’t let out. He had made that mistake last night, letting his anguish show, and despite his best efforts, it all came out in an ugly explosion, crashing her in its path. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

“Fine.” He croaked, trying to look as stable as he could, and he moved to the kitchen.

He held onto the marble counter with shaking hands, feeling drops of sweat drip from his forehead. He was so hot, he was unbearably hot, and the heat only made him sicker, a disgusting lining of pasty saliva on his tongue. He did his best to ignore his symptoms and remain focused, and only with great effort was he able to fill a glass of water and bring it to his lips.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you breathing like that?” His father’s voice echoed in his mind once again. “Control yourself, you look like a retard!”

He felt the cold marble under his fingertips, taking the time to compare it to the warmth of his body. He took another sip of water, focusing on how cool it felt on his tongue, feeling it soothe his queasiness.

Steady…

He paid attention to the sounds surrounding him, noticing his son’s voice as he talked with his mother from the bedroom wing, their voices vibrating through the apartment’s stillness. It was then that he noticed that he was alone in the kitchen. Alone. It was probably for the best, he didn’t want anyone to see him behaving so ridiculously, sweating and shaking like he was a drug addict.

I am alone.

She hadn’t followed him. Under normal circumstances, after such a conversation, she would’ve stormed off after him, pleading with him to talk, demanding a reaction. She just let him go. But what could he expect, anyway? She was an abuse victim, and he had thrown a glass at her. He remembered the frightened look in her eyes, probably the one she used with that abusive piece of shit of an ex, as she ran away from him, scared that he would beat her. Victor would never do such a thing, he wouldn't think of it. But then again, he never thought he would throw a whiskey glass at her, and he did. Not that he wanted to hurt her, he just wanted to make her go away. But still, he did.

No matter how hard he tried, he would always hurt the ones he loved. His mother’s fate was to die alone in Paris, in some random hospital room, with faceless nurses witnessing her final moment. Mina, who so dearly took him and supported him through those trying times, also died alone on the kitchen floor, with a stroke. He was, as usual, too busy with his life, with his empire, too busy to call, too busy to reach out to the woman that practically raised him, and that same woman, who was always by his side when he needed her, didn't have him when she needed him the most. The guilt was agonizing, but it felt like a very small price to pay for being so cruel.

“You are poison. Bound to kill everything you touch.”

Maybe he was like his father, his father did the exact same thing with him. He ignored his son, and made him feel so small in his life, because everything else was so much bigger, and no matter what Victor did, he could never get his father’s love. Andrea saw through that immediately. Her accusation was as accurate as it was painful, Victor was doing the same thing with his family. He was alienating them, and Victor wasn’t even sure anymore why. It was pain, but it was also pride… Not that it mattered.

Victor tried to take a deep breath in, wanting to calm the turmoil in his mind, only to find he couldn’t, like some invisible hand was crushing his lungs from the inside. He held on tight to that counter, trying his best to steady himself, as his vision started to blur and another wave of nausea came. The glass Victor was holding shattered on the kitchen floor. If that was him, if he fell on the ground and broke into pieces, no one would come to put him back together. Rightfully so, he didn’t deserve such kindness.

“Victor!”

He could barely see or breathe, let alone hear her, as a crippling fear took over. All he knew was that he was getting his deserved punishment, to die alone on the kitchen floor, just like he let Mina die, while his family bantered in the other room. He felt a deep stab in his chest, so painful that he lost control of his legs, and started to fall. He would break into pieces and die there. That was his end.

Except he didn’t. His fall was broken by something soft and warm, and arms enveloped him, as he was slowly guided to the ground.

“It’s alright, I’m here.”

He felt her hand touch his. He grabbed it like it was a lifeline, like it somehow could save him, as panic was fully taking control.

“You’re having a panic attack.” Her voice sounded softly in his ear. “It will go away, but you have to breathe deep for me, can you do that?”

“I… I can’t breathe. I think I’m having a heart attack.” He wheezed. “Andy…”

“Yes you can, you just have to stay focused.” She gave his hand a light squeeze. “Here, can you feel this?”

He felt his lungs burning with each shallow breath, making it impossible for him to speak. He nodded.

“Just focus on that feeling. When I squeeze, you try to inhale as deeply as you can. When you exhale, you squeeze back, can you do it?”

Victor’s vision was more distorted by the minute, a wave of dizziness making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Gonna... pass out…” He warned.

“It feels that way, but you are not going to pass out, you just need to breathe. Here, I’m squeezing. Deep breath in…”

Victor ignored the pain in his chest and inhaled as deeply as he could, letting out a ragged breath after.

“See? You can do it. Let’s try again.”

He focused hard on the warmth of her hand and on his breathing, following her instructions as best as he could. The pain in his chest seemed to subside a little.

“Is Dad ok?”

Owen.

Victor’s breath caught in his chest again, as panic flooded his mind.

Owen.

Owen, please don’t look at me.

“Everything’s ok, Bug, Dad will be ok. Go to your room and wait for me there.”

“Is he dying?” He could hear the boy cry.

He grabbed Andrea’s hand tight, begging for help. He was dying, and his son would see it. His chest felt tighter, the air wouldn’t come in, he was having a heart attack, it never had been this bad, he could feel it.

A thousand scenes flashed into his mind, all agonizing, all begging for his attention. His father’s voice spoke with disdain as he laid on the floor, fighting to catch a breath.

“You are pathetic! Is that how you intend to carry our name?”

He was just a child. How could he be so callous?

“You’re not alone, I’m right here. Just squeeze my hand and breathe in.” His wife squeezed his hand tight. He squeezed back, forcing in a painful breath.

“Focus on my voice.” She spoke again. “It will be over soon, I promise.”

“Hello? Mister?” Owen cried. “My Dad is dying, we need help.”

“No, Owen, don’t!” She urged. “Hang up the phone, nobody’s dying!”

“He can’t breathe, and my mom is holding him…”

“Owen! It’s ok! Dad will be ok!”

This was his darkest hour. He was that glass in the study, shattered beyond repair. And still, Andrea held all his shards, ignoring the sharp edges piercing her skin.

“Don’t worry, Owen will be ok.” She spoke to him in a soft voice. “Just focus on your breathing.”

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

… can you forgive me?

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.

[smallheathgangsters]

Second Youngest | Part Two

Part One

A/N: This took way longer than it should have and I thoroughly apologise for that! There have been so many people asking for a part two and I hope you are happy with what I came up with :) Also, I switched from third person to second person, because I felt more comfortable while writing. Love you all, stay safe and healthy! 🧡

Tag List: @annabethgranger123 @marvelschriss @bloodorangemoonlight @chill-bee

Shelby!Sister Reader

Word Count: 1599

Type: angst, some fluff

---------------------------------------------

It was horrible, downright dreadful, hearing Finn argue with your family, while you were in the kitchen doing the dishes. The water in the sink was very hot, but the burning sensation was a distraction you welcomed. Still, it was impossible for you to ignore the conversation going on in the room next to you.

“She never once complained in all these years and now suddenly she’s upset about her situation?” you heard Polly scoff.

“The way you’re reacting to this is exactly the reason why she’d always been afraid to speak up about it!”

Finn’s voice sounded very frustrated and you felt bad for having him stand up for you. You hated yourself for not having the courage to hold the conversation yourself. To be your own fighter. You’d initially rejected Finn’s offer to talk to the family, but he’d insisted and there had been nothing you could’ve done to make him change his mind. He’d been very determined to start integrating you into the Shelby household in a way that was more respectful and loving.

But it seemed hopeless. The venom, the dripping poison in their words weren’t indicating any progress towards a compromise and all you wanted to do was get Finn out of the crossfire he was in. Tell him to leave it be, but that you were thankful for his dedication to make you part of the family.

“Pretty pathetic if you ask me,” Michael huffed, and Arthur agreed. “Sending her little brother? That’s exactly why she can’t be a part of our business.”

“Can’t you just give her a chance? She’s done nothing wrong!” Finn pleaded. You shuddered at Finn’s begging. There was no reason for him to put himself in a position like that. As the youngest of them all, he’d had it hard already, constantly having to prove himself to his brothers … he shouldn’t be risking the loss of respect he’d gained up until now because of you.

“Look Finn, if she’s not ready to speak up for herself, we’re not going to change anything to her satisfaction. Life isn’t easy and she apparently still needs to learn that.”

Tommy’s voice sounded calm, firm and bored. Bored of you. “Now please stop embarrassing yourself and get back to work.”

Immediately, there were chairs being pushed back and the footsteps of multiple people were audible. After only a few seconds, your brothers and Polly were out the door and peace returned. Finally. The house was quiet again and you let out the breath you were holding, freeing your lungs from the slight pain it had caused. Free of pain. The one thing you so desperately wished for.

You closed your eyes while your hands were holding a porcelain plate under water. When you heard a careful knock on the door, your eyelids sprung open and you started scrubbing the residue of food off the plate, almost a little forcefully.

You knew it was Finn, wanting to check up on you. He was aware that you’d been unintentionally eavesdropping from the kitchen and already knew what news he was bringing.

Finn pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I really tried–“

“I know, Finn,” you interrupted him, placing the last plate next to the sink and shaking the water off your hands. Then, you turned around to face him, your back leaning against the counter. “And it’s okay. You did more than I ever wanted you to do.”

Finn’s face turned into an angry frown. “But I don’t understand why they’re being so stubborn!”

“Finn!” you said a little louder. “I said it’s okay. I don’t want you to be upset. I really appreciate what you did.”

Finn let out a loud sigh. “It’s still not fair.”

“It’s what it is.”

A few seconds later the two of you ended up in a warm, comforting hug. One that reminded you that even though nothing was good at the moment, it’ll eventually be okay. That you’ll find happiness someday, somewhere. Just not here. A realisation you had needed for the longest time.

And that realisation lead to a decision. The decision to leave. For good.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Finn’s voice was shaky. You watched him nervously look around the train station. Nervous about being spotted with you. Well, not with you exactly. But being spotted at the train station with you.

“Yes, I’m more than sure,” you assured him, sending your brother a kind smile. “And to be honest, I’m actually really excited.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. And while the sun tickled Finn’s face, highlighting the countless, beautiful freckles, the train rolled in. Loudly, puffing angrily. Your eyes wandered over to the steel machine making its way closer and closer to you.

“You got the address?”

Another nod. “Thank you, Finn. For everything.”

“Please ring me as soon as possible.”

You promised and got on the train, although not before giving your sweet brother one last hug. One that was even warmer, more loving. More understanding. A friendly farewell.

London was busy. Just as Finn told you. Busy and noisy. But so pretty. And a lot less dirty than Birmingham. It smelled of luxury and wealth. Like the scent of an expensive perfume tingling in your sensitive nose. Tingling in a good way, one that gave you little butterflies in your stomach. Just like the kind you got when you passed a cute stranger on the streets.

You’d followed Finn’s instructions on the tiny paper note he’d given you the morning before you left for the new city. He had promised you that the man at the address had a job as a secretary for you. The initial feeling of doubt haunting you as you knocked on the door in one of the creepy back alleys of London had been unjustified. The man behind it was polite and very happy about getting a helping hand. The pay wasn’t huge, but enough for you. A small apartment and a place you felt home was all you needed. And that had been exactly what you’d received. Nothing more, nothing less.

And you were happy. Very happy. With every day the loneliness, the worthlessness, all the negativity Birmingham and your family had caused you, drifted further away. Up and away into the mostly cloudy, dark sky of the city. Your boss made you feel like you were relevant. Needed even. Some nights you laid awake, wondering how all of this had improved so quickly, swiftly. Huffing to yourself and shaking your head at how incapable and stubborn your family had been and how little it had taken to turn your whole world upside down. In a good way.

Unfortunately, only a few months in, on a rainy Tuesday morning, your boss was waiting for you with unlucky news.

“What does that mean?” you gasped.

“That means there’s no way for us to achieve the breakeven-point. Our incomes are too low,” he explained, the tone in his voice almost a little embarrassed.

You gulped audibly, playing with your fingers, unsure of what to do with yourself. “What now, Sir?”

“Don’t you worry, dear. I have a friend, a very talented businessman, who could use a motivated and diligent employee like you.”

“But what about you?” you asked him, genuinely worried about his future. “Do you have a plan for yourself?”

But just as he opened his mouth to respond, there was a knock on his office door, his gaze promptly leaving you. “Oh, that must be him already.”

“Him?”

“Your potential new employer.”

“Why–“

The loud exclamation leaving your boss’s mouth, inviting the stranger in, cut your sentence off. And with that, your conversation was finished already, leaving you with many open questions and a little overwhelmed.

Your eyes observed the door swinging open and a rather short man stepping into the room. Or maybe he wasn’t actually that short. Maybe his hunched posture made him seem smaller than he was. He was wearing a white shirt, one of his braces hanging loosely by his side, the other one over his shoulder, where it should be. He looked anything but a talented businessman.

“Brother! Glad you could make it!”

Had your boss’s voice just gotten slightly higher? Or was that your paranoia creeping up? The weird feeling tapping on your shoulder, reminding you of the fact that you frankly knew nothing about your boss and even less about the peculiar man standing in the doorframe.

“This the secretary you told me ‘bout?”

His steps were slow. Heavy. Dragging themselves over the floor.

You held your breath when he halted in front of you. A little too close. You were sure you were able to make out his eye colour from this distance. Blue? Greenish even?

Did he hear your heartbeat in your chest? Was he trying to make you uncomfortable? Nervous?

You gulped. But the lump in your throat was still there.

Then, you slowly held out a hand, hoping to stop him eyeing you up and down. He accepted your greeting, grabbing your hand firmly. His was rough and large.

“D’you have a name, lovely?”

You nodded, reminding yourself of Finn’s note. The last sentence on it. In bold letters. DO NOT USE YOUR REAL NAME, OR MY FAMILY WILL FIND YOU.

“Y/N … Smith.”

Smith. Your mother’s last name. One of the only things you knew about her.

The man kept shaking your hand, making you question if he’d ever let it go again.

“My pleasure. Call me Alfie. Solomons.”

[radiant-flutterbun]

Brothers

The portal opened and out spilled Inkdrop - the black shadeling nocturne, and Muerto the young grey coatl. They were here to deliver a letter on behalf of Nullity.

Guerra - the coral red mirror was half asleep, with his son - a young thistle banescale wrapped up in his arms. But with the sound of the portal Guerra sprung awake. He stood over his son and pulled his lips back in a snarl.

Inkdrop approached him with an envelope clutched in her claws. His snarling made her nervous but she had made a promise.

“Hello Guerra! I have a-”

Guerra stood over her, his sharp teeth too close to her head.

“Stay away from my son!” He growled.

Inkdrop shrunk, literally. She could feel her scales begin to melt. Her ink stained the invitation.

“Hey!” Muerto puffed out his feathers. Guerra was much bigger than him. And stronger too. But he didn’t let his fear of his brother prevent him from protecting Inkdrop. He put himself in between the snarling mirror and the melting nocturne.

“Don’t yell at Inky!”

Guerra and Muerto made eye contact, both pissed off and snarling. Spittle dripped from Guerra’s mouth and Muerto had his claws around the hilt of his sword. If Guerra made a move, Muerto would not hesitate to hurt his brother.

Newtt, Guerra’s son, wasn’t sure what to make of this so-called danger. He tilted his head and looked at Inkdrop. She had regained control of her body and was solid once more. Sadly, the damage had been done to the invitation, but it was still readable and that was what mattered.

Guerra blinked.

“Muerto?” 

“Yeah it’s me you idiot,” Muerto still had his grip on his sword.

Guerra relaxed and took a step back from Muerto “I… I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Oh so NOW you’re sorry?” Muerto still didn’t let his guard down “Over 180,000 years and now you’re sorry?”

“Muerto I… I didn’t mean…,” Guerra took a deep breath “You’re right. But I am sorry.”

Inkdrop squealed in surprise “Hey give that back!”

Both Muerto and Guerra turned toward her to see that Newtt had snuck up to her and stole a piece of jerky from her satchel.

The young banescale giggled playfully as he ran back to his father with his prize.

“Newtt, Kex will be back any minute with food! You shouldn’t steal,” Guerra said, trying his best to be cross with the child, but it was difficult for him. He hated to see his son upset, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt him. “I’m sorry. He’s not used to others. He doesn’t know any better. He only hatched a week ago.”

Inkdrop laughed “It’s fine. We don’t need it. I keep those around mainly for Hiraeth. When they’re hungry they get HANGREY.”

Muerto finally let go of the sword. He dropped to all fours and his feathers flattened slightly.

“So you’re babysitting hatchlings now?”

“It’s not babysitting if it’s your own kid. This is Newtt, my son.”

“Your son?” Muerto glanced at the banescale chewing on the jerky and then back to his mirror brother.

“Yes. My son.”

Muerto was about to respond but he was cut off by a newcomer.

“Hey Gorey! I got us some grub- Uh,” A blue snake man, a serthis, had a burlap bag that was leaking blood over his back “Who the fuck are they?”

“Kex,” Guerra motioned for the serthis to move closer. He slithered so he was next to Guerra “This is my little brother and his uh,”

“My little sister,” Muerto said with a stern look.

Kex looked at Muerto and then Inkdrop “Huh. You did say your family was strange. But then again,” He dropped the burlap sack and Newtt ran up to it, wagging his tail “So is ours.”

“This is my boyfriend, Kex.” Guerra smiled as he watched Kex pull out a bloody rat from the sack and toss it to Newtt. Newtt caught it in the air and began tearing it to pieces. 

“Ah,” Muerto said “So where’d the kid come from?”

“We found him as an egg a bit ago. He came from that banescale nest where the adults-”

“Died. Yeah I know. Some god war.” Muerto stared directly at Guerra and he flinched “I keep somewhat up to date with this world’s politics.”

“Oh that’s surprising.”

Muerto’s tail flicked “What are you implying?”

“Well you never cared about the politics of our world. Of your kingdom.”

“Hey I was a kid! I’m still a kid! That… None of that should have been my responsibility in the first place!”

“I’m just saying if you were paying at least a little attention then the Underworld wouldn’t have been taken over by demons.”

“Yeah well if you weren't such a dumbass, then maybe you wouldn’t have spread the violence the demons loved so much!”

Guerra bit his tongue and took a deep breath “Alright fine. Let’s drop it. I’m sorry. It’s fine. The Underworld will be fine. Mom is working on it. She’ll fix things, like she always does.”

Muerto snorted “Like that bitch has ever fixed anything in her life.”

“Don’t talk about our mother like that.”

“She was hardly my mom. I hope she dies. I hope she rots. I hate her.”

“You have no idea what she does everyday! How hard she fights off Nefarious to keep us safe! You have no idea what she’s been through!”

“Uh huh. She sure did a great job at keeping me safe.”

“You were… a different circumstance.”

“Go ahead and fucking say it Guerra. I’m not afraid of the truth anymore.”

Guerra kept his mouth shut.

“You still think I’m a monster, don’t you? Well at least I'll never be the monster you were.”

“I never meant-”

“Does your boyfriend know? Will you ever tell your son?”

“Kex knows enough. And like you’re one to talk. We’re both murderers here. Don’t act so innocent, Muerto.”

“Oh don’t fucking do this. What I did and what you did are not the same.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t even aware of most of my actions. You on the other hand…”

Muerto growled. Cold black flames began to appear around him.

“Stop it you two!” Inkdrop spoke up. The flames disappeared. She had the brothers’ full attention.

“We came here to give you this,” Inkdrop handed Guerra the invitation. 

“What is this?” Guerra handled it gingerly, as if afraid it was poisonous.

“Just open it and read, dumbass.” Muerto snarled.

“It’s an invitation. From Nullity.” Inkdrop answered.

“Who?”

“Nullity? Our niece?” Muerto hissed.

“Oh. Right. One of Naperone’s.” Guerra opened the letter and read it “So. She really wants us all together?”

“A family reunion. Yeah. Minus Nap and Saga.”

“Oh so we’re the good kids then?”

“Nullity seems to think so. Although if it were up to me, you wouldn’t be invited at all.”

“So, do you think you’ll be coming?’ Inkdrop asked.

“I think so. As long as Kex and Newtt can come too.”

“I don’t see why not!” Inkdrop smiled.

“Whoa Gorey hold up,” Kex said. Newtt was sleeping on his lap, content now that his belly was full “I don’t think me going will be such a great idea.”

“Why not?”

“No offense but…” Kex looked at Muerto and then looked away when Muerto made eye contact “Your family seems like. A lot.”

“Don’t worry you’ll have me by your side the whole time and besides my family… it won’t be just me and Muerto bickering I promise. The rest of my family are really nice! Well not Nap or Saga, but! They’re not going to be there so it’ll be fine!”

“Maybe I’ll just stay here and watch over Newtt…”

“No wait, I want you to meet my parents! They’ll love you, and Newtt! Besides… you’ll finally get to see what I really look like.”

“Hmm. I have been curious about this true form of yours.” Kex turned to Muerto “Hey. Coatl.”

“Muerto.”

“Right. Is it true his face is… well shaped like mine?”

“He doesn’t have any scales but yeah. Our faces have the same structures as yours.”

“I also have these cat ears that I think you’re gonna think are adorable.” Guerra said and approached Kex. He nuzzled the side of his head and Kex giggled.

“Stop it you goof! Your brother is going to think I’m a big softy.”

“Ah, don’t mind what he thinks. So? Will you come with me?”

“Oh alright. But mostly so I can see that cute face of yours.”

“So I should be prepared to pick you up on the day of the reunion?” Inkdrop asked.

Guerra nodded “Yes. We will be there.”

“Great! Nullity will be so happy!”

 Inkdrop created another portal. Muerto looked back at Guerra before he entered it and flipped him the bird. Inkdrop hopped in after him and the portal closed.

“Do you get along with any of your siblings?” Kex asked.

“No,” Guerra sighed.

“I’m glad I don’t have siblings.”

“It sure sounds nice.”

Night began to fall in the Scarred Wasteland and Kex and Guerra began to set up a shelter for the night. Guerra felt strangely energized. He was looking forward to a break from this. He was looking forward to seeing his parents again. To be himself again.

[kamyru]

Hello Kamyru,

I hope you are doing well. Is your request still open? I enjoy your writing, so I thought I can make a request as well.

Is it possible to write a short story about Takado is going to have dinner with MC and her parents? You can decide the ending ^^

Have a wonderful day, Kamyru 😊

Hi! I hope you’re well, too. My requests are always opened. The only thing is that I don’t answer right away because I’m waiting for inspiration. Thank you for your request. It is rare for me to receive requests on scenarios. I think I’m better at writing scenarios. Have no idea what my readers think, though. Hope you’ll enjoy the short story. ❤️ 

Takado meeting MC’s parents

Word counting: 1344

"Remember when my parents called me yesterday?" asked MC suddenly while stitching the patient.

"Mhm," was everything that said Takado, being too attentive at what MC was doing.

"They said that they want to meet my fiance."

"They what?"

Everyone was looking from Takado to MC. Of course, the entire hospital already knew that MC was Dr. Takado to-be, but seeing them talking so open about personal things wasn't an often sight.

"I forgot to tell you yesterday and thought that I'll forget again if I don't tell you now. So, do you mind if we visit them the next weekend we are both free?"

"No... No, no. I don't mind..."

"What have you done to poor Dr. Takado?" whispered Missy, who was the closest to MC.

"Nothing special. He looks perfectly fine," said MC without even looking at her fiance, who was as pale as a paper.

After the operation finished, Takado was still in shock. He knew that sooner or later he had to meet MC's parents. He knew that it wasn't going to happen after a long time, taking into consideration that he already proposed to MC. But it still surprised him.

So... The next free weekend... The next free weekend... The next free weekend was at the end of this week. What was he supposed to do? How to act? What to wear? Waves of sweat were running down his spine and forehead.

"You look very stressed," said Kasumi when Takado entered the doctors’ room.

Takado blinked a few times at him and sighed.

"Did something happen with the patient?"

"No. He is perfectly fine. Something happened to me. No... Something is going to happen with me," Takado sighed again.

"No one is going to eat you. Keep calm. At least you'll finally be able to eat tasty food, taking into consideration that the last months you were my guinea pig and tried everything I was cooking," said MC who just entered the room.

Of course, it was easy for her to say something like this. They were her parents, not his. The moment they were going to meet his parents, her stress would be higher than the Empire States.

From the moment he found out about their plans for the weekend, Takado couldn't stop himself from following MC everywhere and ask her about her parents.

"What do they like?"

"What am I supposed to wear?"

"How to act?"

"Will they like me? What do you think?"

"I like you. So I'm sure they'll respect my choice."

"But what if you are wrong?"

In the end, MC had to make him a lot of calming tea. Otherwise, he was going to be Kasumi's patient before they met her parents.

"They won't like you," said MC the night before the D-day.

Takado, who was lying on the bed with closed eyes, waiting to get asleep or to meet the sunshine with puffy eyes, suddenly was up, thinking about every bad thing he ever did.

"They will definitely love you," continued MC, ignoring his behavior.

Takado didn't know if he was happy or wanted to cry. When he was in bed again, MC snuggled beside him. He hugged her tightly and kissed her hair. She knew that this night, she couldn't move. He was going to keep her close to him and every time he would start to worry, he would kiss her and hug her tighter. But she didn't mind at all.

Takado was the first one to wake up. Despite what he thought, he slept pretty well. It was MC's merit. Her presence helped him to get rid of the stress.

She suddenly bit his chest. That moment, he understood that she was already awake. Positioning herself on him, she gave him a mischievous smile and kissed him.

"Are you ready to eat tasty food?"

"That's everything you can think about? Can't you say something like: 'Good morning, babe. I'm so blessed to see your face every morning. Can I kiss you? I want to spend another wonderful day with you. And do it for the rest of our lives.’ But no, you think only about food and even bit me.”

The playfulness on MC’s face disappeared. She gave him another kiss.

“I love you so much that I don’t know how to say it. I want to spend beautiful, sad, wonderful, happy, hard, bad, good days with you. And to bit you in the morning for the rest of our lives. Also, to kiss you sometimes, otherwise, you’ll think I am some kind of dog. Love you, Munechika.”

Of course, Takado was going to blush after such words. Of course, MC knew it and that was the reason why she did it. But they both knew that she was honest.

It took them a lot of time to get ready. Mostly because Takado tried nearly every thing from his wardrobe. After that, he made sure that the cake he made yesterday night was still in a good state.

“So that’s what you were doing before I came home... It looks good. When we are going to try it?”

“When your parents want. Don’t touch. I don’t want you to ruin my artwork.”

“But I’m jealous. You have never cooked something like this for me.”

“I have plenty of time to cook something like this for you. But I have only a day to win over your parents.”

MC chuckled. Though, she suddenly stopped. She didn’t know how to cook cakes. Of course, her cooking skills improved a lot after she started dating Takado, but she still was a newbie. How was she going to impress his parents?

They arrived after lunch. Both of her parents were already waiting for them. Takado was taken aback by their wide smiles. When he gave them the cake, they got even happier.

“I hope it’s not cooked by my daughter,” said MC’s father.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with someone who can poison you. I suppose MC knows not only how to literally poison people, but also how to destroy their taste buds,” continued MC’s mother to tease her.

“I thought that being here, I’ll be surrendered with love. But now I see how wrong I was. There’s only one person here who truly loves me,” pouted MC.

“At least now, I know that I have immunity at every poison possible, thanks to your daughter.”

“No. I was completely wrong. No one loves me.”

All of them burst out laughing and Takado’s stress disappeared little by little.

Though, instead of stress, Takado started to feel a little embarrassed. MC’s parents wanted to hear how they met, how they deal with the fact that they both are very busy. Also, they put a lot of questions about him. Takado knew that they simply wanted to know more about him and to find future topics of discussion, but he was still feeling a little bit strange.

“You know, we can show you MC’s child photos. But we are afraid that if we do it today, you won’t have other reasons to visit us. After we put you so many questions, you’ll be afraid to meet us again. So, we promise that next time we’ll show you them. And the time after the next, we’ll feed you with something even tastier. We liked to talk with you. Don’t forget about us. I hope we’ll see you again soon,” said MC’s parents before MC and Takado left them.

Takado assured them that soon they would visit them again. It was just as MC said. His stress was useless. They weren’t bad at all.

“How such wonderful parents have someone like you as their daughter?”

“Aren’t you supposed to say that you are happy to find out that your wonderful girlfr... fiancee has wonderful parents, too?”

“Hm... I’m happy that I was able to win over my wonderful fiancee’s wonderful parents, so I’ll be myself a wonderful part of such a wonderful family.”

MC giggled. But soon she stopped, being shut up by Takado’s kisses.

[muchadoaboutbucky]

Red Carpet Man (oneshot)

Red carpets are definitely not Bucky’s thing… but this one’s a little more rewarding than usual.

PAIRING: Bucky x Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: anxiety (public situation), smut

NOTE: Edited by @crispychrissy​. Do not save or repost my work. 18+ only! Remember to support indigenous creators (I’m one of them) by boosting our work and buying directly from our stores and online shops!

⭒ become a patron for just $3 ⭒

Bucky doesn’t know how you do it. Walking in front of the cameras, flashing lights, screaming fans and reporters—you do it like it’s nothing, but he can barely bring himself to force a smile and maybe stutter a few rambling sentences to the recording devices stuck in his face. 

He can already hear the bustle of people outside, car horns honking impatiently for people crowding the street to get out of the way, the beat of helicopter blades soaring overhead, news outlets desperate to be the first to catch glimpses of the famed Avengers...

He’s only been in Los Angeles for a day and he already doesn’t like it. 

You’re at the mirror, applying a favorite lipstick that always gets him riled up. He doesn’t know why he likes the color red on you so much, but this little splash of red against creamy olive skin goes perfectly with the floor-length dress, all ruby chiffon and satin, a split in the skirt of it that goes all the way up your thigh. Bucky eyes it hungrily as you turn away from the mirror and tuck your lipstick back into your little red clutch.

He’d rather stay here and mess around than go out and have to deal with… people.

Three sharp raps on your hotel door signal that it’s nearly time for you to go downstairs and join the others in the lobby. You barely acknowledge it, instead filtering through your little collection of necklaces. Bucky watches you compare pendants, assorted jewels and pearls, until you finally settle on a small silver chain with a diamond pendant. 

“Babe?”

He stands when you hold the necklace out for him. He takes the nimble clasp and lets you adjust your hair so he can clasp it around your neck. It’s too easy to take advantage of your position, and he presses a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You smell real good, like jasmine and vanilla, and it makes his heart skip a beat as blood decides to try and rush elsewhere—

“Mmm, nice try, mister.” You turn in his arms, winding your arms around his shoulders. “We have to go downstairs.”

Bucky grumbles. “Let’s just stay here. Say we got food poisoning from that sushi Stark got last night.”

“Definitely not.” You shake your head and press a light kiss to his lips that leaves a little red print. “You need to get used to these press events, baby. You can only miss so many before people start wondering where the famous Sergeant James Barnes has gone off to.”

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky clarifies, running his hands down the back of your dress, “is busy trying to make some love to his girlfriend and it’s nobody else’s business.”

“It will be someone’s business if we turn up late. Again.”

“What can I say? I don’t like to rush things.”

You giggle and rub away the lipstick left behind on his lower lip. “When this event is all over, I promise I will make it very worth your while.” When he tenses, refusing to let you out of his arms, your eyes fill with sympathy. He really doesn’t want to go out there. “I’m not gonna leave your side,” you murmur, “I’ll stay where you can see me, we won’t be out there longer than an hour. I promise.”

He groans, letting you pull out of his embrace. “I hate reporters.”

“You don’t have to comment on anything,” you explain, “just stick by me, pose for the cameras, and then we’ll be onto the Q&A. And trust me, if I know Tony, he’ll be doing most of the talking.”

***

Bucky has to fight to shield his eyes from the glare of the setting sun reflecting off the buildings across the street. You loop your arm through his, walking at his pace as you trail behind Steve and Tony. Nat’s close behind, your reinforcement to make sure Bucky doesn’t turn and bolt back inside.

The instant clamoring swells up in a deafening wave the second they step outside. The rapid clicking of camera shutters, shouts from reporters, screams from excited fans… oh, God, fans. Nobody here is gonna like him, not after everything he’d done as the Winter Soldier has officially been made public…

“Calm,” you whisper in his ear, “they know we’re together, baby. It’s okay.”

Bucky flinches as several shouts of his name resound from twenty feet away, mixes of “James” and “Sergeant” and “Barnes” that make his head spin. He ignores them, offering tight smiles and hanging back with his hands tucked in his pockets when you decide to approach the reporters. He watches closely, eyeing the way you smile and practice your little flirty routine as you answer the questions thrown in your face. 

A flash of silver and red catches his eye. He turns his head and spies a gaggle of people huddled beside one of the metal barricades, some with their phones out—the red had apparently come from a phone case. They’re cheering and waving, and he raises his hand in a curious wave before turning his gaze away. You’re finishing up with the reporters, and you blow a little kiss to one of the cameras before sauntering back to him, leaving Natasha to fend for herself. 

“Looks like those people over there really like you.” You let Bucky wind an arm around your waist. “Wanna go say hi?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Baby, c’mon,” you plead, “it’s good to let the public get to know you. Besides, having fans is a good thing.”

He eyes the group suspiciously. They’re mostly women, some teenagers sprinkled in, cheeks flushed with excitement at the prospect of seeing him… not Tony, not Steve… him.

“You’re in their history books,” you murmur, “they get to meet a hero.”

Bucky swallows thickly. “How, uh… how do I talk to them?”

A little smirk crosses your face. “Remember the first time you flirted with me? Bring all that sweet charm right back up and they’ll love you forever.”

He blushes hard when you rub your hand up his arm. “Are you sure?”

“Well, you got me to stick around,” you reply, “pretty sure a couple of idolizing teens is way easier.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and glances over at where Tony’s scribbling frantically on posters and pictures held out by what look like hundreds of fans. “And what if they want me to sign stuff?”

You reach into your clutch and pull out a metallic gold Sharpie. “Do that cute loopy thing you sign all your things with.”

His shoulders roll back, and he adjusts the button of his jacket—subconsciously, most likely—and you rise up on the toes of your four-inch heels to nuzzle his cheek before giving him a stealthy pat on the ass and sending him on his way. Bucky swallows any nerves that creep up into his throat as each step takes him closer to the group of excited girls, who only bounce and whisper excitedly as he approaches. 

“Hi, ladies,” he says, trying to keep the nervous flutter in his voice under control. The chorus of “hi!” and “ohmygod!” that fills his ears in reply makes his cheeks burn, and he uncaps the pen, reaching out to sign a handmade poster that reads TEAM BARNES.

It’s a full five minutes of signing his initials, JBB, over and over again. He manages to engage better than he thought he would, even managing a few quick seconds of eye contact with several young women who bat their eyelashes and blush furiously as he delivers winks and lopsided smiles. The sudden appearance of an infant named after him literally takes the words out of his mouth, and with the mother’s permission he reaches over to let the curious baby grip onto his right index finger. It’s quite touching, considering he’s been wanting to talk with you about babies for a while.

By the time he’s done, you’ve moved a long ways down the red carpet to occupy yourself with a one-on-one camera interview. He feels surprisingly light and happy, and he waits patiently for you to take notice of his presence and invite him in. The reporter talking to you blushes, apparently excited to get him in as well.

“And we’re joined by Sergeant James Barnes,” she says, as the cameraman turns to bring her into the frame, “so, Sergeant, it’s been a while since you’ve made a public appearance like this. How are you finding it?”

Bucky’s brain struggles to find the right words quick enough. “Took some getting used to, I’m still, uh…” he shoots you a quick glance, as if to make sure what he’s sharing is okay. When you give him an encouraging smile, he continues. “I’m still adjusting to this kind of life. Fortunately, I got this one—” he loops his arm around your waist, fingers splaying out against your hip, “to help me out. She’s been real good to me.”

***

“Goddamn.”

Bucky slumps back against the mattress, tipping his head back as you drape yourself next to him, a sweaty thigh slung over his hips. You’re panting hard, muscles still tensing and trembling from the last near-hour of enthusiastic lovemaking. 

“I’ll say,” you reply, running a palm over his bare chest. “So, you had fun?”

He grins, looping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s always fun with you.”

“I meant the press.” You laugh and squirm a little closer. “You look like you had fun with those people.”

He smiles, cheeks flushing. “Someone named their baby after me.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” You press a kiss to the side of his neck. “I wish I’d seen that… imagining you with a baby does things to me.”

Bucky chuckles. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted one.”

“What, a baby?” You sigh and trail the tip of your finger over his lower lip. “I was thinking about it, but with what we do… are you sure you’d wanna have a baby?”

In response, he rolls on top of you, nudging your thighs apart to make room for him. “I want to,” he confesses in a whisper, lips brushing against yours. “Besides, even if it takes a while, it’s fun to try.”

Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him down into a deeper kiss. “I guess you’re thinking of trying right now?”

Bucky glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It’s only ten,” he says, “I’m willing to try all night.”

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ALWAYS  :  NAMJOON  :  EPILOGUE

↪ PAIRING: Kim Namjoon x Reader ↪ GENRE: idol!au | ex’s to lovers | angst | smut ↪ SUMMARY: the story of how almost divorced, disgraced idol kim namjoon tries to put his life back the way it was after the world found out he was married and had a kid. ↪ WORD COUNT: 6k

↪ WARNINGS: angst angst angst, smut, nj has a mild pregnancy kink, oc body shames themselves a lot, milddddd drug references, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: sorry this was delayed but here it is! thank you for being so patient and i really hope yall enjoy/are satisfied with the ending . my ask is always open if you have any questions or comments :):)

ONE  :  TWO  :  EPILOGUE

By day number four of avoiding Namjoon you knew it was time to relent and at the very least speak to him. Days one through three were spent using your mom's house as a temporary hideout. You knew there was a million questions whirring around in her head at your surprise visit, but you kept quiet, merely stating you wanted a break. She had given you the kind of look that was equal parts disapproving and disappointed, in only the way a mother could combine those expressions. It made you wonder if you made that face too.

Namjoon had called and texted everyday, each time begging you to talk to him. Your fingers would itch over the messages, tempted to just give in. You hated this as much as he did. After finally, finally, getting what you'd wanted for years -  your family whole - it felt like it was slipping through your fingers again.

It was a loss you weren't sure if you could endure again.

Siwoo sat happily on his play mat, toy car in hand while you kept a careful watch on him. He had a tendency to put things in his mouth that didn't belong there, so you made sure to pay attention.

You were extra thankful for him as of late, your ray of sunshine in these dark few days. Though, when he went to bed in the evenings everything hit you the hardest, raw and painful. You'd had such little sleep in the last few days it was a miracle you were functioning as well as you were. Months of sleepless nights when Siwoo was a newborn had trained you well, you supposed.

The tea in your mug had gone cold and it tasted as bitter as you felt. You had gone back and forth several thousand times about whether you were over-reacting or not. The initial knee jerk reaction you have is to run when things get difficult. You'd been that way your entire life, often times to your detriment.

Over the course of your entire relationship with Namjoon that had been a recurring issue. Every argument, every fight, squabble, disagreement or otherwise, you were the one that bailed. The one that needed time to cool off. Which ultimately led to you filing for divorce in the end. Maybe it was time to confront your issues instead of running away from them.

The doorbell rang exactly at four p.m, signalling Namjoon had arrived. He knew the passcode and could easily enter if he so much as wanted to, having done so for the last few months. But you knew Namjoon. This was a way of showing you some respect, showing you he was giving you your space and would wait for you to come to him when you were ready. The same pattern as always.

With a heavy heart you trudge to the door, nursing your still cold tea. When you open the door Namjoon stood on the other side, looking as awful as you felt. "Hi." He said quietly, rubbing a sheepish hand over his unshaven face.

"Hi."

You step to the side, allowing him to cross the threshold into the apartment. A surprised, hesitant look crossed his face but he stepped inside regardless.

"Siwoo is in the living room." You told him, straight to the point. He nodded. After all, that was the reason he was here. You were forced out of your silence because you'd never keep his child from him, no matter how bad things got between you.

You hung back in the kitchen and busied yourself with making another cup of tea that you didn't particularly want. It was just an excuse to hide and you knew it. Coward that you were.

You could hear Siwoo's delight at seeing Namjoon as you waited for the kettle and it made your heart ache. He had missed his dad, having been used to his presence much more. The guilt it caused you plagued you constantly, since you were the reason for the separation.

Namjoon appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, Siwoo perched on his hip. A small smile escaped you at the grin on your son's face as his tiny head rested against Namjoon's chest. He still clutched the toy car.

"I'm all set to go." Namjoon announced. He shifted somewhat awkwardly. "Unless you want to..."

"Not yet." You didn't know exactly what he had in mind but you weren't ready for that talk at this moment in time.

He nodded, looking disappointed. "Will I still see you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't you? You're not keeping Siwoo forever." You knew instantly what you said had been far too harsh and definitely out of line. Namjoon's face flashed with pain. "I don't mean it like it that - " You attempted to explain that you weren't infact referring to your son as an object but you were cut off.

"I thought you might send your mom or Jess or anyone else in the world to do it." He informed you.

"It'll be me on Sunday, Namjoon."

"Can we have dinner then? If not for me, for Siwoo." He asked expectantly. You didn't have the heart to refuse him again, not when he looked at you with that desperate longing in his eyes.

"Okay. Dinner, then."

*** Standing outside Namjoon's extravagant house two days later you felt sick, absolutely sick to your stomach, throw up in a hedge nauseous. The combination of nerves, the secret pregnancy and the fact that the last time you were here was one of the worst days of your life had bile creeping up your throat.

When Namjoon finally answered the door, you hurried past him to the bathroom, muttering something about needing to pee. He could only watch you with a bewildered expression, clearly he'd expected a repeat of the awkward interchange from the other day.

You made it to the toilet just in time, praying he didn't hear the sound of you heaving your guts out over the porcelain. As you borrowed some of his mouthwash and cleaned your hands you debated what lie to feed him. Thankfully it wasn't the morning so you hoped you'd be able to get away with food poisoning as your excuse.

You returned to a worried Namjoon. "Are you ok? I heard you throw up." He asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I think I've just got food poisoning."

He stared at you curiously for a beat. "Do you want to lie down before dinner? It won't be ready for another 45 and I'd rather you felt alright."

You shook your head no. "Thanks Joonie, but I'm okay."

His expression softened at your use of his nickname, he hadn't heard it in a while. You didn't intend to use it but it slipped out so naturally. Especially when he was concerned about you.

The kitchen smelled incredible as you entered. Namjoon didn't cook often being the clumsy chef that he was, opting for takeout usually, sometimes multiple times a day. "What are you making? It smells good. Hi boop." You gave Siwoo a cuddle from behind as he sat in his high chair. He squealed with joy in your arms. "Mommy missed you."

"Lamb curry." Namjoon stated. "And just plain pasta for the kiddo."

"And how much has Seokjin helped you with all this?" You couldn't help but tease. Namjoon smirked.

"Alot." He turned away from you to fuss with the pot on the stove. "I wanted to do something nice for you. Figured you'd appreciate the effort."

You made a non-committal noise as you slotted yourself into the chair next to your child, still feeling a little queasy. It was silent until Siwoo's food was ready when Namjoon offered to feed him for you, but you declined. You were happy to do it. He could mostly feed himself anyway but sometimes needed a little help.

With nothing more to do for the time being Namjoon sat opposite you. You could feel his eyes on you but you deliberately kept your own on Siwoo. "What did you boys get up to then?" You murmured, trying to get Siwoo to eat with his small cutlery and not his hands. "The food is hot Siwoo, use this."

"Nothing too exciting. Mostly swimming, I've got the pool up and running again. That kid is a water baby through and through."

You nodded in agreement, having witnessed it first hand yourself. Ever since he figured out what water was you could barely keep him away from it, essentially making bath time a messy affair. "He especially loves your pool since you got that slide."

"I did it for him."

"I know."

Namjoon stood after a while and went to the cupboard, taking out two wine glasses. He placed one in front of where you sat, setting the other at his side of the table. "I got your favourite sauvigon blanc. The one from the top shelf." He mumbled, corking open the bottle he'd grabbed. "Here."

He began pouring you a glass. "Oh no, no thanks, I'm not dri - Siwoo don't throw your pasta."

Namjoon stopped mid pour, raising his eyebrow at you, ignoring the macaroni that hit the floor. "No wine?"

"My stomach still doesn't feel right." You lied, giving him an apologetic look. "Better avoid the alcohol."

"That's not like you." He paused giving you a curious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just don't want to drink. I'll be driving again soon anyway."

He didn't know that you physically could not and would not touch alcohol due to tiny life that was growing inside you. The tiny life you still didn't know what the fuck you were going to about. Your stomach flipped anxiously.

"Okay." He said staring at you for a little too long. He swapped your slightly filled glass with his empty one. Namjoon poured sparkling water in yours in lieu of the wine. You knew he knew you were lying about something, but he said nothing, still on emotionally shaky ground with you. You wondered if he had anticipated you staying the night to offer you alcohol.

When Siwoo had finished eating and all the pasta had been cleaned from the floor you put him down for a nap. It was cute how sleepy he always got after food and it was nearing his bedtime anyway, heavy eyelids drooping as he sipped on water.

The only evidence that Namjoon even had a child was Siwoo's bedroom, the rest of the house looked like it belonged to a bachelor. As you walked through the vast space you found yourself getting somewhat irrationally angry about the fact. No wonder that girl felt so comfortable here. You found yourself scowling when you sat back at the dining table.

"What?" Namjoon asked, sensing instantly the shift in your mood.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You're one to talk." You shot back. He sighed.

"Don't be like this just because Siwoo isn't here. Can't we keep being civil?"

"Fine." You mumbled.

He dished the food and you ate in stony silence. The sound of the cutlery scraping on the plates soon became deafening to you, grating on you and worsening your mood. Namjoon had asked you to be civil but that girl hadn't been to you, or to him for that matter and that was the only thing on your mind as you ate. The hormones raging through your body were certainly making you more quick to anger than usual.

"Is it okay?" Namjoon asked, pointing to your plate with a fork. "The food."

"Perfect, thank you." You replied. He looked crestfallen at your curt reply.

"Can we talk properly tonight jagi?" He asked.

"Don't call me that." Instantly you were transported back to the night when this mess started, the night you slept together for the first since breaking up. You'd had almost that exact exchange, although it was a playful one and didn't have the sombre atmosphere his kitchen had.

"All I really need is for you to listen." He sighed. "Can you do that for me?"

You owed it to him at least. "Alright."

He inhaled a deep breath before releasing it slowly, as if he was unsure where to begin. "I didn't cheat on you. I wasn't lying about that. If you take anything away from this conversation, please let it be that." His gaze was so intense you couldn't help but believe him.

"Did she kiss you that day?"

"Yeah." He looked down with a grimace. "I didn't initiate anything, she lunged at me. It was an attack."

"She called you Joonie."

That caught his attention and he looked at you in surprise, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. "That bothered you?" You nodded.

"It didn't feel like a casual hookup, Namjoon. She seemed very familiar with you. She was in your home calling you what me - your wife - calls you." You voice got higher the more emotional you got, tears burning your eyes. Namjoon shushed you gently, telling you to calm down. "And then there was the other girl from the pictures. What do you do to these women to make them think this behaviour is ok?"

Namjoon gave you an infuriatingly blank look. "That was the girl I was papped with."

"No it wasn't." You sniffed.

"Baby," He huffed an incredulous but humourless laugh. "I promise you. Crazy girl from the photos is crazy girl that was here. Those pictures were dark, you probably just didn't recognise her."

"Why does she keep showing up?"

"We did hook up, but once a long time ago. I made the mistake of taking her home. I saw her once after that, but we didn't have sex. Other stuff happened, I won't lie."

You felt uncomfortable, hot, prickly jealousy constricting in your chest. "I don't need details."

"I don't really remember it to be honest. I was wasted." He explained further. "She turned out to be a big fan of mine and was - is - having a hard time dealing with the fact that I don't want her. That's it. That's the story. I swear."

You searched his eyes with your own for a few moments and he held your steely gaze.

"You could get a restraining order." You grumbled.

"They're not as easy to get as you think."

You crossed your arms and looked away. Although you believed every word he said you still weren't happy. Maybe it would take more than a conversation this time.

"Anything else you want to know, just ask." Namjoon told you softly. His hand twitched on the table and you could tell he wanted to reach for yours. "I'm an open book."

You knew exactly what was niggling at your conscious. "What else have you lied about?"

He paused for a moment and your heart dropped, anticipating the absolute worst. "I once jerked off to a picture of your feet."

Your scandalized expression was enough to have him laughing, easing some of the tension in the room. "I'm serious!" You scolded.

"So am I." He smirked and you rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry baby, I just wanted to see you smile."

"You're ridiculous."

He stood and walked round the table, taking your hand in his forcing you to stand. He pulled you into a hug and your arms automatically wrapped around his waist. "Am I forgiven?" He mumbled into your hair.

"No." You said but your body contradicted your words, melting even further in to him. "I'm still angry at you for lying and nearly dying of an overdose too. It's scary to think you can keep such things from me. I'm waiting for the next lie now Joonie."

He squeezed you tighter. "I understand, I do, but does a tiny part of you not see why I would hide those things from you? It was to stop you from getting hurt."

"I guess."  You know he has a point and you do feel better for having this talk with him but jumping back to fully trusting him feels frightening. You hate being vulnerable and right now, that's what you are.

"All I want is for us to be together, and whatever you need me to do to get us there, I'll do it." He said with strong conviction.

You surprised him by standing on your tiptoes and pecking his lips, his eyes remained open in shock. "You're a good man, Namjoon. I'm lucky I have you." He smiled. "But if you ever lie to me again, I swear to god I'm done."

"Never." He swore.

***

It took three more nights of intense conversations with Namjoon before your relationship started to return to normal. Getting everything out in the open was a little painful for your both but once everything that had happened during your separation was no longer shrouded in darkness, you felt better. You both did.

Namjoon had bravely opened up about how he struggled with pills and drugs. You'd learned he'd been partying a scary amount and that's where he met 'crazy girl'. Apparently she was a big party girl and drug user herself, which made sense, considering her erratic behaviour. She was an amateur model and had access to a lot of free drugs, so Namjoon was unfortunately drawn to her.

It wasn't exactly easy nor fun to hear about the women that he'd been with. It was with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks that he admitted a lot of his hook ups had been a blur of nameless faces. He wasn't proud of it, he'd never been a guy who fucked around, even before you met.

You were surprised to learn he'd spent time in rehab. Mostly it was just therapy but it allowed him to be in a better state mentally and therefore able to cope. Namjoon had got teary when you told him that you were proud of him. It wasn't easier to better yourself and succeed. He told you it was all for Siwoo and you understood that fierce protective desire completely.

During the third night, when you lay in Namjoon's bed, each on your side and facing each other you realised it was time to come clean about your secret now. You squeezed your entwined hands that lay on the pillow between your heads. "Namjoon, in the spirit of being honest...I need to tell you something."

"What is it jagi?" His brow furrowed at your tone.

You gulped. "I'm pregnant." He was silent and his expression never changed, which immediately worried you. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner but I was going to do something cute by just giving you the sonogram instead of doing it in this lame way, but -

" - That's amazing." He interrupted your nervous rambling. A grin started to spread on his face.

"Really?" You asked cautiously.

"Are you joking? It's fucking great news!" He exclaimed. Namjoon let go of your hand and quickly placed his large palm on your lower stomach. "How far along?"

"Only 9 weeks." You playfully shoved his hand off of you. "You won't be able to feel anything yet." You laughed.

"I'm excited. I knew something was up when you weren't drinking and throwing up." He admitted. "It's going to be so different this time round. So much less stress and worry. We can actually enjoy your pregnancy."

"I'm excited that you're excited." You said. "I was scared to tell you. After everything we went through..."

"It's going to be different this time." He repeated. He kissed you passionately, lips crashing against yours as if he was trying to show you just how much he meant his words. Arms snaked around your torso as he held you close. "We're going to have two kids soon." He murmured. "Are you ready for this?"

"Nope." You laughed and he joined you. "But I wasn't ready the first time and we managed."

This time when he kissed you, you could feel him smile against your lips. "This feels like a dream. I'm so happy." He managed to get out in between presses of his mouth against yours. You were elated. "Can't wait to see you pregnant again."

"You mean, fat." You corrected.

"Noooo," He groaned, frustrated. "You looked so sexy when you were pregnant before." His hands slid underneath your shirt, along your stomach to cup and squeeze at your breasts. "You had big ass boobies." You can't help but laugh, he was like a horny teenager when it came to boobs. "Filled with milk for my baby."

His thumbs brushed against your nipples and you stiffened at the sensation. He kept repeating the action and you could feel a dull ache in your core at the sensation. "s'feels good." You murmured, trying to concentrate.

"Yeah?" He pulled back a little to gauge your expression. "Can I keep going?"

You nodded, appreciating the fact that he was asking for permission since you hadn't slept together since your argument. He peeled your shirt from your body and leaned down to plant kisses all over your breasts, thankful you weren't wearing a bra to bed. A dreamy sigh escaped you as your hands carded through his hair.

"D'you know what else I liked about you being pregnant?" He said huskily, still fondling you.

"Tell me." You had felt insecure at the time, and had been feeling it again after seeing the model you knew Namjoon had slept with. Some reassurance would be welcome.

"You were swollen in all the right places." The heel of his palm began to grind down slowly against your panties, having worn only those and a shirt to bed. Namjoon's lips wrapped around a nipple and your pussy pulsed in response. "The curve of your stomach, hips and ass was so fucking sexy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," He hummed and your underwear was moved to the side. "It was sexy because you looked like a woman. Not just a hot girl." His fingers moved in slow circles against your clit and you feel yourself growing wet especially fast. "And you were off-limits to any other man than me. I put my baby in you and every other man could see it."

"Fuck, Joonie." You whimpered after he hit one particularly sensitive spot, hips jolting slightly. "I didn't know you had a pregnancy kink."

He smirked against your skin, his breath fanning across as he laughed a little. "Me neither, until I saw you."

Briefly he stopped to pull the remnants of your clothing off leaving you fully naked. "Namjoon?" You asked hesitantly, feeling shy. He hummed in response, sliding his fingers into your wet heat once more. Something had been playing on your mind this entire time. "That girl was beautiful."

He groaned. This time it wasn't a sexy groan. "Don't talk about her when I'm touching you like this."

"I keep thinking about her. She's prettier than me." You admitted. He stopped what he was doing, gripping the bottom of your chin, forcing you to face him when you tried to hide the fact that tears were welling in your eyes.

"She's nuts."

"You didn't disagree with me." You pouted. He sighed. "I'm feeling really insecure right now. I'm about to have another kid and my body is going to be wrecked, again. And girls like that are incessantly throwing themselves at you."

"I don't think she was prettier than you. And even if I did, who cares? She isn't beautiful where it counts. I just told you how sexy I think you are and you still don't believe me." He looked sad, it made you feel guilty.

"Sorry I'm being stupid." You mumbled.

"Don't be afraid to tell me when you're feeling like this, I don't want you to feel bad while I'm trying to make you feel good." He insisted. "Just remember that what I feel for you is so much more than how you look. But you're sexy, you're pretty, you're kind and you're an amazing mom. I'm so attracted to you that I'm still hard even through all this just because I'm near you and you're naked." He laughed, guiding your hand to his crotch for emphasis. He wasn't totally hard but that was an erection if you ever felt one.

"I love you so much." You told him sniffling. "Sorry for being a moodkiller. I'm hormonal and emotional right now."

"Tell me about it." He teased. "Can we carry on or are you out of it completely?"

You answered him with a kiss.

He took his time with you that night and you knew that extra effort came entirely from a place of pure, authentic and true love in his heart. Namjoon ate you out until you were a mess beneath him, able to coax two orgasms out of you before agonizingly pushing his stiff length into you.

Whispered praise in your ear made you feel desired in a way like you hadn't experienced before. He cradled you as he fucked into you, encouraging you to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked around his lean body.

"Don't think I could never want you, especially like this." He breathed into your ear, slowly pounding into you. "You're the love of my life."

"Joon..." You moaned, tears stinging your eyes, leaking onto the pillow. You were too emotional right now for sex like this. "Please." You begged.

"Tell me you love me, tell me how good I'm making you feel." He commanded as his hips slapped into you faster this time. All you could think about was his bare skin against yours while you clung to him as if your life depended on it. Every drag of his cock inside you felt like you were made for him.

"I do, I love you so much." You moaned. "You're perfect. No one has ever made me feel like this."

When he came he groaned loud enough that you were certain he woke the sleeping child in the next room.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the pitter patter of tiny feet echoed down the hall. Namjoon leapt away from you so fast, he tangled himself in the sheets and fell over, emitting a loud curse word.

Once Siwoo had been successfully put back to bed (and escaping unscarred, having seen nothing a three year old shouldn't witness) you and Namjoon stifled silent giggles. "I guess I enjoyed that a little too much." He laughed, getting comfortable to sleep.

"Top 5?" You asked, climbing into bed beside him. It was a running joke between you about your favourite sexy time moments. You don't remember when it started and it's hard to remember every single time but there are definitely some stand out moments.

"Top 10." He yawned. "It would be higher up, but I hit my shin pretty hard when I tripped."

"I love you, you clumsy idiot." You whispered, kissing him on the nose.

"I love you too baby."

***

You loved how Siwoo looked in his father's arms. Really, you should gently remove him from the tight embrace Namjoon held him in so he could sleep properly but the sight of the two asleep on the sofa was turning you to mush. They both slept with their mouths hanging open in the exact same way, the only difference was Namjoon snored lightly.

You couldn't resist and snapped a few pictures.

As you watched them you were glad you couldn't move on whilst you were technically single. Even a small part of you regretted attempting to even be with anyone else when this was the only man you wanted right here.

You thought of Mark and the other two guys you'd dated and how empty you had felt, how you'd had to force feelings most of the time. Actions speak louder than words and the fact that neither of you had been able to get close to moving on spoke volumes.

Namjoon was home and always had been.

***

Early pregnancy was a lot more tiring than you remembered this time around. With Siwoo, you'd been relatively lucky and for the most part it had been smooth sailing. New baby was not giving you an easy ride. You'd convinced an overbearingly concerned Namjoon you were well enough to go for a walk but the five times he'd already asked if you were alright showed his worry.

His hand laced through yours as you strolled through a park near your home. It had a beautiful selection of cherry blossom trees, a long time favourite spot of yours. It was his suggestion to get some fresh air after morning sickness had claimed the first half of your day.

The occasional stray blossom petals floated through the air, giving the worn path a story book feel. Even though you weren't 100% you were glad you'd made the choice to go outside, the fresh air smelt sweet and calming.

"Jagi, I've been thinking." Namjoon announced, opting to sling an arm over your shoulder instead. You realised it was the first time he had ever been able to be affectionate with you in a public space. You leaned in closer to his side.

"Do tell."

"Let's have a wedding."

You looked up at him, perplexed. His gaze remained straight ahead. "We had one. You should remember, you were there."

"That wasn't a wedding, that was standing in an office." He corrected with a scoff. "What I'm trying to say is lets have a big celebration. One all our friends can come to. Would you like that?"

"Maybe? I don't know. I've never thought about it." You mused. "That could be fun."

"I thought it could be like an official fresh start. We never had the chance to do it like everyone else." He shrugged. "Only if you want to though, baby."

"I think I want to." You smiled. Namjoon hummed a good, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. You carried on in a comfortable silence.

"One more thing," He said after a few moments. "You need this back."

A hand slipped into his pocket and out came a small jewellery box. Without having to peek inside you already know what it contains. The ring you had given back in a fit of anger nearly a few weeks ago. He flicked the box open and offered it to you. "You're not going to get down on one knee?" You joked. He rolled his eyes.

Willingly you accepted it from him and put on the ring. "I had it cleaned for you."

You admired the silver that adorned your hand for a moment before handing him back the box. "Thank you."

The two of you didn't talk much more as you finished your route through the park. You didn't need to. Everything he'd done for you (and not just today) had said enough.

***

"Siwoo, I have told you to pick up these toys five times now!" You yelled down the hallway, exasperated by your seven year old's will to ignore simple instructions. After escaping the infamous terrible two's with him you noticed he was barrelling to being a defiant child. You raised your voice a lot more these days. "Don't make me tell you again!"

You knew it was futile by the distracted Yes Mom that he replied with. You instantly could tell he was either playing video games or on youtube, both his new favourite pass times. As you attempted to grab a ready made bottle, a loud smash came from the living room and you hurried through, worry clenching your chest.

"Oh baby girl..." You cooed once you'd noticed what had caused the noise. Your two year old, who was just figuring out that she could walk had accidentally smashed a picture frame when she'd tried to use the coffee table for balance. "I left you alone for half a second and you're trashing the place." You sighed to her.

Quickly you checked her over, ensuring she was unharmed. She was. Gently, you slung her over your hip, this time taking her to the kitchen with you. She struggled the entire time, eager to get back to her new found freedom of walking. However as soon as she realised she was getting fed, her mind was quickly changed.

The sound of Namjoon arriving home caught your attention. You were glad he was home. As much as you loved your children, an entire day alone with them was harder than any job you'd ever worked. You were still between nanny's and were picking the slack up yourself.

"There's my girls." You could hear the smile in his voice before you saw it. Namjoon reclined in the doorway, watching you and Eunha, an enamoured look on his face. He crossed the room, kissing her first on the cheek before meeting your lips in a peck. "Where's Siwoo?"

"Bedroom," You sighed. "Tell him to get his toys please." Namjoon nodded, able to read your frustration straight away as his phone and keys where placed on the kitchen counter. He left to do what you'd asked of him.

Once you'd managed to get Eunha down for bed, you joined Namjoon and Siwoo who were picking the toys up together. You picked up the smashed picture frame that you'd momentarily forgotten about, smiling at the image. It was an official photo from your 'second' wedding, you and your husband smiling like lovesick kids with Siwoo between you, looking adorable in his tiny suit.

It had been a wonderful day, being able to celebrate properly with your loved ones. The day had been a blur, but the best kind of blur; ending it with sore cheeks from smiling so much.

"What's that?"

Namjoon's question brought you back to the present. You flipped the picture frame round to show him it was broken. "Courtesy of Eunha on one of her missions."

"You look so pretty in that picture Jagiya." Namjoon stretched over and kissed your cheek. Neither of you missed how Siwoo's face screwed up in disgust at the sight of his parents kissing. A knowing smirk was shared between you and your husband.

"Thank you for that boop!" You kissed your son's head when he was finished the task. It was frightening how tall he was getting, you suspected he would be taller than Namjoon when he was older. He trudged back to his room grumbling about how he was too old to kiss his mom. You couldn't help but laugh.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as soon as you were alone, kissing you properly this time. "How was your day?" He asked quietly against your lips.

"Long." You sighed, resting your head on his chest. "You?"

"Busy."

Lately he had been putting in more and more hours at the recently expanded studio. Ever since Yoongi had started a family of his own they'd even hired an entire crew of people. Things couldn't be better for your husband's career and you were more than thankful how lucky the two of you had been.

His hand stroked the back of your hair lovingly. "The best part of my day is coming home." He yawned, holding you tight. You hummed in agreement, that was the highlight of your day as well. Ten years total together and that had never changed.

Not one moment was taken for granted anymore and when all was said and done, you knew you would be with him, always.

MASTERLIST

[sanshineaus]

six or so

JUNG YOONOH/JAEYHUN X READER

warnings: none

type: drabble, fluff

word count: 2694

a/n: yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh ta-

”Oh my God, Yoonoh,“ your hands instinctively come to cover your mouth, your lips already curling into a grin that makes your eyes turn into crescents.

“Yeah?” the man in question raises his head from his phone, and you can’t help but let out an incredulous chuckle. Now that his neck is in view, the tattoo adorning it truly makes you huff with joy.

The other commuters at the bus station certainly aren’t fans of your ardour.

The ink is anything but delicate, and tracing it with your eyes, you realize how big it really is. Running from his collarbone and all the way up to his ear, the face seems hostile; and although you can’t make out exactly what it is, the fangs are simply perfectly done, and the rough shading only adds onto the charm of it.

Your hands slowly find their way back down to your sides, and your grin seems to widen as you let out yet another peep of pure joy, “It looks so good on you!”

Yoonoh’s smile in return is quite bashful, and he hangs his head down once again with a small wince—the flesh must still be a bit tender, after all he had only disappeared for six or so days and judging by the size of the tattoo it can’t have healed evenly everywhere.

Your best friend finally lifts his beautiful head again, and you feel yourself flutter when you catch his grinning gaze, his teeth on full display as he moved to greet you at last. A quick hug, though he makes sure to sway you both to the left, and you can’t help the laugh which bubbles up to your lips once again.

Yoonoh just seems to elicit joy from you, every single one of his appearances prompting you to smile and brightening your day. It’s not that he offers himself to do so or anything like that—it’s just that you feel it’s only natural to mimic the dimpled boy in his very own cheer.

You’ve exchanged so many jokes and tremors within the six or so years you’ve known each other. From highschool and petty drama where you vowed to each other to never interact with humans over a pint of rum-chocolate ice cream, to now; fresh out of college and promising each other to not forget friend date nights over a bottle of whatever was cheap and weak (because you both thankfully found jobs and you’d like to keep them AND drink on week nights).

You two finally begin walking, away from the bus station you, and into the street right next to it. The change of scenery would’ve given you whiplash if it weren’t for you getting accustomed to the city. Bustling with life, the new corner of town breathed modern and chic, paved elegantly but full of people on a nightly outing, much like yourself and Yoonoh.

Along the pavement, mostly restaurants and niche stores lined up one after another. Though the stores were mostly in the process of closing up (like the leather store you knew everyone went to for a new wallet or jacket), the restaurants were just starting. Even if none of them stayed open past one in the morning, their peak was just starting. Traditional restaurants which you knew to be distinguished, those newer and sleek ones with food you’d spend half your paycheck on, and of course the animal cafés wrapping up their last shift, it was all so natural.

“So, what do you feel like eating?” you break the silence, looking at the man next to you. Yoonoh seems to break out of a reverie and you wonder why he’s so beautiful just simply not paying attention.

“The usual?” he asks out loud, and you simply agree by rising to your tippy toes to scan how far away your favourite restaurant is. The crowd is certainly at a peak tonight, and although you know where to go, Yoonoh grabs you by your elbow, gentle as ever, and breaks his way through the crowd.

He’s truly a darling, you realize, when he links your arms properly and worms his way through the surplus of people. You try to look ahead so as not to bump into anyone, but even from the side, Yoonoh is so distracting and simply amazing. Your heart thumps in your chest.

Even as you face the restaurant door, and both try to peer inside to check for a possible table, he doesn’t let go of your arm. For a split second, there’s guilt creeping up your neck for the sole reason of your heart racing and your stomach fluttering for contact which you’re used to, and something he’s done before with you, but it quickly dissipates when you remind yourself that it’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong just holding on to your friend, because Yoonoh wouldn’t have continued to hold you if he wasn’t okay with it.

What does kill you, though, is him opening the door for you.

It’s a simple gesture and he’s just being polite, you remind yourself again, and you’re probably right. But the way he smiles at you before saying there’s a table he saw by the cash register? It simply knocks a breath out of your lungs, and you grin while you follow him.

Your dinner goes well— when you’re seated, you immediately begin catching up. Yoonoh tells you about his promotion, and before you know it, you’re deciding on ordering shots to really celebrate. Neither of you are drunk because your meals are truly heavy and the drinks you ordered before the shots were sipped slowly, but you’re feeling buzzed and elated.

It’s only after you start discussing music that you realize the restaurant is beginning to slowly but surely clear out. People were leaving and the staff were wiping down tables with an air of finality. To avoid feeling bad, you finish up your drinks and split the bill before walking outside, which is when Yoonoh turns to you, “Come over?”

Come over. You chuckle at that and nod, obviously. You’ve been over before, sleeping over and joking around with Yoonoh. You didn’t do it often¸ because you were two adults with busy schedules, but sleepovers with him were such a warm thing to experience.

You slept over for Christmas the first year he got the apartment— cozying up and taking quizzes on the internet before making breakfast food for dinner. You stayed up more than you slept, and you even ended up building a fort for your friends who were set to come over in a couple hours. It felt incredibly homey, and you truly had fun.

But you had work tomorrow… and so did he… Before you could even get a word in, he grabbed your hand to lead you out of the street, which was also slowly clearing out. “I’ll call in sick, I hope that you can, too.”

Come to think of it, you could— you didn’t use any sick days, and you definitely missed talking to Yoonoh when the clock hand passed three. He was much more open and raw, and so were you; but the comfort never left. He’d tell you about his life, and you’d tell him about yours before one of you would crack a horrible joke that made both of you feel better.

Catching the bus is easy enough, and you and Yoonoh find yourself in front of his apartment soon enough. Walking up the stairs is a bit of a struggle, because he keeps giggling and it makes you way too happy to focus on the basic action of moving. But this is fine, because he seems so happy and light on his feet that it simply makes you forget your inability to concentrate around him.

He opens the door for you again, and you rush to take your shoes off so that you can jump onto his couch. He makes a sound, you assume to complain, before he comes to yank you from the couch by your arm.

“Come on, I’ll give you spare pyjamas! Get up,” he whines, though there’s a grin on his face, and he finishes by huffing. You only listen to him because you feel uncomfortable in the attire you have donned (or that’s what you tell yourself).

It’s when you’re both in his undoubtedly large bed, together and under two blankets because he insists it’s cold, giggling at a silly remark you made, that you realize how smitten you feel. Yoonoh looks adorable in his sleepwear, eyes hidden behind his eyelids as he smiles. You caused that smile— something that brings a weird sense of pride into your heart. It makes you feel warm; Yoonoh makes you feel warm.

He decides at once that it’s time to sleep, and your gaze casts towards the clock on his wall reading four fifty something. It’s closer to six than you’d like, and you agree to both text your workplaces before passing out.

You’re not proud of the lie you come up with for your manager, but you don’t stress about it as you turn your back to Yoonoh so that you can finally close your eyes. You simply can’t, though, your stomach tightening with a burning curiosity.

You turn to him again, “Yoonoh…” and he opens his eyes gingerly. You laugh at his confused eyes, before inching closer— maybe too close, but your own gaze finds his neck. “Why did you get the tattoo? Really.”

He purses his lips, turning his head upwards so you can get another look at the tattoo. You wiggle your hand out of the blanket to softly press against his neck, tracing the design gingerly. He doesn’t complain, but you can tell that the very edges of the tattoo still haven’t healed up properly, and so you retract your hand.

“You want a truthful answer? I just thought it’d be cool,” Yoonoh begins, “but it has a meaning. It’s an oni tattoo on the neck, which would mean I would’ve been able to hide it if I had long hair. It’s not the mask though, so it wouldn’t be ‘evil’.

“It can mean two things— the fangs mean that I’m warding off people and protecting myself. Kinda like one of those poisonous frogs, but less colourful. The face itself means that I’m trying to transcend humanity, get better and grow stronger with the help of people.

“Oh, and speaking of colour— I wanted it in full colour at first, but then the artist suggested more fine lined detail and we just went with it. I guess I’m happy with it, since it’s on my neck and all.”

You hum in wonder, coming to lie down even closer to him. Your nose brushes against his shoulder, and you hear Yoonoh’s breath hitch, making your own stop in its tracks. “It’s cool, too. I already told you it looks good,” you whisper.

You hear him let out a laughing breath, before he bids you goodnight with your name in tow.

When you wake up again, the morning feels way too new. Somehow, throughout the night (or, morning, rather, as it’s now well in the afternoon) you managed to get your head on Yoonoh’s chest. His arm sits around your shoulders, whilst yours is wrapped around his torso. He’s still sleeping peacefully, and so you slip out of his death grip as quietly as you can, so as not to wake him.

You know your way around his home, and your instinct is to make him tea. You’re not sure what he has in his fridge, so you opt not to start on breakfast. Yoonoh had the worst habit of forgetting to stack up or grocery shop at all, usually getting take-out instead of cooking. You don’t exactly want to take your chances.

You do work while he’s asleep, though, washing his dishes and wiping down his fancy counter. He comes out while you’re throwing away the paper towel you used. Yoonoh’s morning smile is the best thing in the world, you think, because he seems so pure as he comes to prop himself up on the counter.

“Good morning.” His voice is even better to head, and the grogginess not fully gone from it makes you smile as you hand him the cup of lukewarm tea.

Your cup is nearly finished, but as you bring it up to your lips, he speaks, “Can I ask you a question?”

A million things run through your mind at once, at last settling on concern for your friend. You raise your eyebrow at him, sitting across from where he was leaning. Yoonoh smiles at you again, most likely to try and put you at ease, “Did you… did you enjoy your time with me?”

It rings in your head that something’s not right, and your face contorts as you try and figure out what he means. Your voice carries a curious lilt within it, “Of course. I always enjoy when we go out.”

But it doesn’t seem to be enough for him. Yoonoh takes a sip of his tea, and his eyes seem determined to bore into your soul. You try to maintain the intense eye contact, waiting for him to finally voice his doubts. Within minutes, everything has turned way too tense for your taste, and you simply have to reach out to press your hand against your friend’s arm.

He puts his tea mug down, standing upright and walking over to your side of the counter. You’re entirely surprised when he grabs your cheeks, cupping them together. You let out a noise you’re not proud of, and involuntarily jerk backwards, but the man simply holds you in place. He’s gentle, though, and you ease up once he gives you a smile.

“I meant, did you enjoy sleeping with me,” to this you give a snort, and he grimaces before pinching your cheek, “not like that, you nerd.” This causes you to give a half-assed kick to his shins, to which he pretends to be incredibly hurt, ows and ouchs included.

“Yes, Yoonoh. I enjoyed sleeping in your bed,” you chuckle, hooking your hands onto his elbows. “What’s with the sudden questioning?”

He squished your cheeks together once more, “I don’t really know where to start with it. You make me kind of nervous to even try.”

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, your brain running through and endless amount of possibilities as to what Yoonoh could possibly mean. Your hands gripped at his elbows, and your eyebrows furrowed as you got ready to fire out questions, but luckily he spoke again before you embarrassed yourself.

“I’ve always felt different towards you, I guess. We’ve been friends for so long that I just never thought it was anything serious. And I’ve felt this before— just like last night— but… ahh,” his face scrunched up, and yours followed soon as the corners of your lips rose into a petite grin.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I really, really like you, and yesterday cemented it.” He finally gets out, sighing. You stay there for a moment, letting his words register in your brain. He’s special to you… and you sound to be just as special to him.

Your hands move to his wrists, patting them to get him to loosen up. It gives you some leeway to close the distance between the two of you, bringing him into a ginger kiss. Yoonoh seems surprised (though you don’t entirely blame him for it), a startled yip leaving his lips. His grip on your cheeks loosens with time as he moulds his lips against yours, thumbs running over your cheeks.

You don’t keep him there for long, sudden bashfulness hitting you. You pull away, finding it a bit challenging to look him in the eyes again, though when you do you’re met with the warmth you’ve familiarised yourself with. You can’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, pulling Yoonoh close to you into a death grip of a hug.

“I really, really like you too silly. And for six or so years, too.”

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: Ch 13 - End

~

Luz had a hard time looking at either of the Clawthorne sisters as they sat Sunday morning eating breakfast. 

Mostly Eda.

Anytime she caught the older witch’s eye she would grin and snicker, causing Luz to flush.

King seemed to catch on pretty quickly.

“What’s so funny?” He looked between the two. “Tell me!” he demanded, pointing a clawed hand at the witch.

“Nothing!” Luz squawked, before Eda could say anything. “Nothing is funny!” Her voice climbed an octave which made Eda snort into her cup of apple blood, but decided to take pity on her lovestruck apprentice; for now.

“Yeah, yeah, nothing,” Eda said but still couldn't wipe away her grin. King grunted in disappointment.

“Leave her be, Edalyn.” Lilith said, but there was a small smirk on her own face, that if anything, was worse then Eda’s full-blown laughter. 

It was one of the longest breakfasts of Luz’s life.

Embarrassed as she was she was still riding the high from the previous evening. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep with all the happy, excited energy coursing through her. 

She’d laid in bed drawing light glyphs for a while and simply basking in their light as she replayed the entire evening in her head over and over. 

Skimming over some of the emotional whiplash from initially being turned down and focussing on every smile or laugh she’d been able to get out of Amity, their dances especially took up a lot of her thoughts. She could still feel the other girl’s head resting on her shoulder and her fingers wrapped around her neck. Her skin tingled with the ghost touch she swore she could still feel.

One moment more than any other always came back to the front of her mind.

Standing in Amity’s bedroom, close enough they could feel each other's breaths, hands gently smoothing her mussed hair and the way the young witch's eyes glowed in the cobalt moon light before Amity’s finger threaded through her hair as she kissed her. 

Her face grew warm thinking about and she squirmed happily under the covers.

She let her face drop into her pillow and sighed dreamily. 

She thought she had been a mess before, this was something else entirely. Something overwhelming and awe-inducing; something wonderful.

'Is this what love feels like?' she wondered as her eyes drooped closed.

Eventually, she fell asleep with dreams of warm golden eyes and a smile she always wanted to be the cause of.

She’d promised Gus and Willow she would meet them right after breakfast today to tell them how it all went; she needed to get going.

When breakfast mercifully ended she stood and headed for the door.

“I’m going to meet Gus and Willow, bye guys,” she called back toward the kitchen.

“Hold up, kid,” Eda called before stepping into the living room, catching Luz as she reached for the door.

Luz stopped to look at her mentor, who wore a serious expression.

“When you get back I think we need to have a talk.” 

“A talk?” Luz blinked, brows furrowed. “About what?” 

“You know…” Eda twirled a hand as if searching for the right words. “The Talk.” she finally said.

“The…” Luz started before realization struck her and her face turned crimson. “Oh my gosh! No!” 

“It’s an important talk every young witch needs to have.” 

“Eda, No! My mom is a nurse, I’ve had the talk!” she wailed, red faced. 

And she had. The most awkward conversation she had ever had with her mother, or anyone really, after telling her she was bi, complete with charts and diagrams from her work that made her grimace just thinking about it.

“Well you have a girlfriend now, you need a refresher.” Eda crossed her arms. 

“I’m leaving!” Luz didn’t look back as she ran out of the house, the door slamming open and cutting off Hooty’s call of good morning. 

Eda snickered to herself as her apprentice vanished into the woods. 

“You’re terrible,” Lilith huffed, from the kitchen table, but couldn’t stop the small grin playing on her lips.

“If I’m going to have a kid and all the responsibilities that go with it I should at least get the fun parts too.” she shrugged. 

Lilith only rolled her eyes.

~ ~ ~ 

Gus and Willow were waiting for her at the fountain in town when she arrived.

“Luz!” They called when they saw her.

“Hey, guys.” She grinned.

“Well, tell us everything, how did it go?” Willow leaned in, practically vibrating with anticipation. 

“Did you tell her, what did she say?” Gus followed bouncing in place. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.” she chuckled, unable to wipe the grin off her face.

They sat on the edge of the fountain while she recounted the entire party to them, though she did leave out a few things here and there. They didn’t need to know about what she and Amity had talked about when they had been sitting in her backyard playing twenty questions, that was personal and she was sure Amity wouldn’t appreciate her sharing those things with anyone. 

She also carefully left out what happened in her bedroom. They would never go around telling people about it but that was something she wanted to keep all for herself. She decided to just conclude her story by saying the evening as a whole was… well, magical.

“That’s so romantic, Luz.” Willow gushed, holding her hands to her cheeks. “Like something out of a love story.” Gus made a face at that but still congratulated her. 

"So, are you two dating or?" He asked quizzically. 

"Well, we're going to meet for lunch today and it is a date...so, I guess?” She shrugged but there was a happily sheepish face on her smile.

“Whoo!” He cheered. 

“I told you you could do it, Luz.” Willow smiled knowingly and Luz squinted at her. Now that she had a better view of the whole picture there was just something suspicious about how Willow had acted about it all over the last couple weeks; it suddenly clicked.

“You knew, didn't you? You knew Amity liked me the whole time,” she asked after a moment, but it wasn’t really a question. She knew she had been oblivious but she knew Willow was much more observant.

Willow’s eyes shot open and her cheeks turned pink.

“Well… yeah,” she admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” She threw up her hands.

“It wasn’t my place, would you really want to hear it from me rather than Amity herself? Didn’t you just say last night was amazing?” She held out a hand.

“It really was…” she smiled dumbly to herself, starting to drift into her thoughts of last night before catching the teasing grin on Gus’s face and snapped herself out of it. “You’re right… thanks, Willow.”

They spent the rest of the morning walking around the market and chatting before Luz realized it was almost time for her to meet Amity and waved goodbye to her friends as she took off toward the bakery, weaving through the moderate traffic of people meandering through the street and stopping to look at the various stalls and their wares. 

She rounded the corner and could see the shop at the end of the street, but her eyes zeroed in immediately on Amity, standing outside of it, waiting, and Luz grinned, chest swelling at the sight of her. She was wearing the same outfit she had been the last time they had met in the market when she had let her borrow her fifth volume of the Azura series, except instead of her necklace she had Luz’s brooch pinned to the front of her dress and it made Luz giddy to see.

Amity hadn’t spotted her yet and she self-consciously brushed any imaginary dirt from her clothes and straightened out her hoody before jogging over. 

“Hey, Amity!” she called.

The witch jumped, turning toward her and a smile immediately broke out on her face that made Luz’s stomach roll.

“Sorry, I was with Gus and Willow in the market, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No! no, I just got here,” she quickly assured, a lie, she’d been waiting outside the shop for over half an hour, but Luz didn’t need to know that.  

“Great!” She grinned and held the door open for Amity, who managed to keep her face only a slight pink as she walked into the shop with Luz hot on her heels. 

The same man Luz had seen before looked up as the bell chimed and he greeted them.

“I’m gonna guess I know what you want?” She looks at Amity questioningly as they move toward the counter and she digs through her pocket for some of her tip money.

“No, let me, you’ve spent enough on me lately.” Amity quickly interjects. After everything Luz had done for her over the last few weeks she feels like she really needs to reciprocate in some way.

“I don’t mind.” Luz smiles and Amity knows she means it, but she feels guilty, unlike her, Luz probably has to work for her money and she knows well enough that flowers and jewelry aren’t cheap, besides, she wants to treat her. 

“Please?” she insists and Luz can’t find any will to argue with that face. 

“Okay” she nods, she is not going to argue about something so silly, she’s just excited to be here with her. 

“Do you know what you want?” she asks and Luz taps her chin, contemplating the display case filled with food.

“I dunno, food is so different here than in the human world… I’m never sure what's not poisonous to me… or still alive…” she grimaces thinking of some of the things she’d seen Eda eat, or the weird things served in the cafeteria. Amity giggles at the look on her face. “Surprise me.” She finally shrugs and turns back to Amity, smiling. 

“Alright.” she returns the smile but it turns into a grin. “I’ll try not to poison you.” she teases and Luz grins back.

“That would be very much appreciated. I’ll go find us somewhere to sit.”  She pointed over her shoulder with a thumb. Amity nodded and she trotted off.

The place was mostly empty so she plopped herself on a stool at a small round top table near the windows. The bright sunlight streaming in warmed her face as she kicked her feet back and forth nervously. 

This was her first date, and even though she liked to think she knew Amity pretty well and knew for a fact she felt the same way she did, it didn't stop the nervous energy bubbling up inside her.

She looked out the window at the various people and creatures moving about town. It was weird how used she had gotten to the sights after only about two months.

She must have been staring for a bit because suddenly Amity was sliding onto the stool across from her with two little white saucers with matching tarts on them. Thornberry tarts, Luz was sure.

"I hope this is okay…," Amity started, sliding one of the plates across the table to her.

"Yea!" Luz grinned, pulling it close to her. "They look just like the ones back home, I was half tempted to eat the one I got you," she said, looking down at the treat in front of her, it's deep red filling was shiny in the sunlight.

"Ed kept trying too...till I bit him," she mumbled the last part, but Luz heard her and looked up.

"You bit him?" she laughed, and Amity blushed.

"Only after the third time he tried to stick his hand in the box," she grumbled. Luz just snickered and Amity couldn't help but smile.

Amity waited, watching as Luz picked it up and took a bite; she really hoped she liked them. She didn't have to wait long as Luz's face immediately lit up, brown eyes sparkling in delight.

"These are so good!" she said with utter amazement after swallowing the bite. Amity smiled behind her own tart before taking a bite; sugary sweetness coated her tongue.

They didn't say much as they ate, Amity savoring hers and Luz practically wolfing down hers. It was hands down the best thing she'd ever eaten since coming to the Isles, she said as much too as she licked any remaining jam from her fingers.

"You have jam on your face,” Amity said in response, smiling. 

Luz licked at her lip, hoping to get any remains of the sweet filling.

"Did I get it?" 

"No," Amity snorted as Luz continued to try and lick off the jam and made silly faces as she tried. Amity rolled her eyes even as she grinned and picked up her napkin without thinking and reached the short span across the table to wipe the red smear of her date's cheek.

They both turned pink as soon as the action was finished.

"Oh, heh, thanks." Luz smiled sheepishly at her.

"No problem…" Amity trained her eyes on her food, till Luz smacked a hand on the table, making her head jerk back up.

"Why didn't you tell me I had your lipstick all over my face when I left last night!?" Luz suddenly said, remembering.

"What?" Amity's face darkened at the sudden exclamation.

"When I got home there was lipstick all over my mouth." As she said it her face pinked and Amity's went from pink to red.

"I…" Amity scoured her memories of last night, as though she hadn't a hundred times already since Luz had left Blight manor, but now she was thinking specifically of the few moments on the porch before Luz had flown off and realized there had been some discolored smudges around the other girls mouth. "I didn't notice," she finally said, eyes wide and mortified at the sudden realization. "I'm so sorry!" Her face was bright red.

"It's okay!" Luz waved a hand, chuckling. "Eda thought it was funny…she laughed for fifteen minutes… maybe next time let me know," she mumbled, still pink.

"Next time?" Amity squeaked, almost dropping her tart.

"I mean… not that there's going to be a… next time per say, or that there won't be... I uh…" she trailed off, not exactly sure where she was going with this.

Amity seemed to recover first, playing with the crumbling edges on the crust of her treat, face still hot, but looking up at Luz from beneath her lashes.

"I'll tell you next time," she finally said, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

Luz nodded, and couldn't keep the bashful grin off her face.

"Do you… want to go to the library?" Amity asked when she's finished eating and only crumbs remain on both their plates.

Luz perked up.

"Secret book club?" She grinned, bouncing in her seat and Amity chuckled.

"Secret book club," she agreed.

"Yes!" Luz flung herself off the seat but paused at the table side, a quick thought flashed through her mind and before she could doubt herself or rethink it, held her hand out to Amity who blinked at the outstretched appendage for a moment before smiling and slipping her hand into Luz's, fingers intertwined.

"Let's go!" Luz pulled them along as they ran out of the shop and down the street, both smiling, hand in hand.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hey! How are you? Hope you are doing well!

I read your jealous!percy fanfiction and OH MY GODS is it possible to be in love with a fanfiction because I really was!!

Can I request for a part two??

Please feel free to ignore this if you are busy or cannot do it right now!

I just wanted to say that I really do adore you and your content!!!

Thank you!!!

When I tell you I sat in my room and cried when I saw this ask?!? Thank you so much for your lovely words angel💖🥺they really do mean the world! And I’m so so so happy you enjoy the mess I put out☀️

Your wish is my command so here is Part 2 of the Jealous! Percy fic. There is no jelly Perc in this one but there's enough fluff you may have a cavity after all this sweet👀

Please enjoy!

Masterlist

Percy puts the final bauble on the Christmas tree and stands back to admire his work. The tree glitters brightly, a combination of tinsel and the soft yellow lights wrapping around the branches. The low melody of Christmas music comes from the small radio sitting on the bookshelf and the coco steaming on his coffee table looks more than inviting. He figures if he, and his band of misfit daddy and/or mommy issue group of friends, couldn't go home for Christmas he would do his best to bring the festivities here. The one person he really wants here is going to California for the holidays, something he hasn't done in years, and although Percy is disappointed he knows his friends will make the most of the time anyway.

He collapses onto his couch, staring at his hard work and takes a small sip from the steaming mug. His laptop is silently playing some Christmas movie or the other and the mountain of notebooks and pens on the table shake precariously. A small collection of weathered envelopes sits to one side; cards for his friends. They had promised no gifts, as they do every year, and instead sought to make the cheesiest, funniest, most tear worthy cards. There were different categories and if you won you got to pick the holiday games or what happens to the losers.

A single knock at his door pulls a frown onto his face. He considers ignoring it, mostly because he wasn't expecting anyone, but it starts back up a moment later and he resigns to a baseball bat and a cautious glance. He eases the door open and bursts out laughing as he sees who's behind it.

"What?" His unexpected guest gives him a wide eyed look, "Did I forget pants or something?"

"I thought you were a really polite murderer."

"What?" Confusion is etched so perfectly across that beautiful face Percy can't help but laugh again.

"Come in my love," He moves out the way and let's his boyfriend pass.

Just as he closes the door again Jason Grace pulls him by the wrist and crashes their bodies together.

"I missed you," The blonde breathes, and he has to hide the shiver that races up his spine at those husky words.

"We saw each other two days ago?"

"Maybe I'm an addict."

"Please kiss me. Right now."

And those blue eyes glitter with joy as their lips meet. It is soft and patient and full of sweet wonder. Jason threads his hands through those black curls and slants his head slightly, trying to get closer, if that were even possible. Percy swipes his tongue across the blonde's lip and his mouth parts in a little gasp. Their kiss deepens, turns to languid exploring and content passion.

When they break apart they are out of breath and the smiles taking over their faces make the sun look dim.

"Missed me that much huh?"

"More," A golden hand strokes his flushed cheek.

"What are you doing here?" He leans into the hand, looks up, into that adoring gaze, "I thought you were going to Cali to be with your father?"

"He has a last minute work trip," The blonde rolls his eyes, "I'd rather spend the holidays with you anyway."

"Well the gang is coming over tomorrow but we have tonight and every day after that all to ourselves."

"Who knew we'd be here?" Jason sighs, laying one of Percy's hands against his thundering heart.

"Not me," He giggles, "I thought I'd be spending my Christmas pretending I haven't been pining over you and maybe drinking unhealthy amounts of coco."

His boyfriend scrunches his nose, "Why do you even like the stuff? It tastes like bitter bean water."

"I think you're talking about coffee," His green eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Ugh don't even get me started on that stuff. Tea is the only valid hot beverage." The blonde huffs as they stow his stuff in the bedroom and flop down on the couch.

"You are such an old man," He shakes his head, rubbing a thumb over his palm.

"What time is everyone else coming tomorrow? And who is?"

"They'll be here between eleven and one because I told them ten. And it's Frank, Haze, Leo, and Reyna. Everyone else is with their families."

Jason snuggles into him, hair tickling his neck as he rests against his shoulders. A muffled yawn escapes him and Percy's heart clenches for the gentleness of the situation.

"You want some tea?"

"No," He yawns again, "I'll need to pee every five seconds in the night."

He laughs, and his boyfriend whips his body up, eyes wide with horror, "Sorry that was probably too much information."

"Are you kidding I’ve seen you throw up your guts because of food poisoning. That was hilarious."

"Shut up," Jason mumbles, golden cheeks heating, "We don't talk about that."

"I think it's the only time I've ever seen you look disheveled."

He shudders, laying his head back on Percy's shoulder, "I never went to feel like that again. I swear I was dying."

They settle into the quiet, the hum of the radiator and the low music still playing from the radio washing over them. Jason intertwines their fingers, tracing patterns against the back of his boyfriend's beautiful brown skin. And that's how they fall asleep, slowly and indulgent. As if they can hang up time on a hook and take it down when they need it next.

When Percy's alarm starts playing the next morning he groans loudly and stretches out. His boyfriend mumbles something and snuggles further into his side. He strokes a hand through those sunlight strands and drops a kiss on his forehead.

"I have to get everything ready, my love."

"Don't leave," He garbles, "You warm."

"I promise I'll be back. Why don't you go sleep in the room. You'll be more comfortable there"

"Want you," His voice is raspy with sleep and Percy has to stop himself from yanking his boyfriend by the hoodie and planting a passion fueled kiss on his lips.

"If I don't set up we'll never be ready by the time the gang comes."

Jason simply holds his arms up, blue eyes unfocused and gives him a lopsided smile. With a sigh that hides his amused affection he loops his arms under the blonde's, wrapping them around his back, and grabs his legs.

"You ready my love?"

A nod, and fumbling kiss into his neck is the reply. And then Percy is lifting up his boyfriend and carrying him through the apartment and into his room.

"Mhmm," Jason hums onto his skin, "Smells like you."

"You like it?"

"Smells good," He bobs his head as he snuggles into the duvet, "Like ocean and rain."

Percy just smiles and brushes his lips across the blonde's gently, "Sleep."

As he turns to walk away Jason catches his wrist and tugs him back.

"Stay," His blue eyes are wide with pleading, "Please."

"But i—" He starts, and then he's falling onto the bed and wrapping his arm around his boyfriend, "We are going to be so late."

Jason kisses his cheek, his nose, his other cheek, before finally reaching his lips.

"Iss okay," He's already falling back asleep.

Their breathing slows, and they find each other once more, in a land as perfect as this one.

***

"Well good morning lover boys," A delighted voice squeals.

Percy moans, muttering something unintelligible and buries himself into the sheets.

"I take it nobody has ordered our Christmas feast or started on the Eggnog Nogfest?" Another voice giggles.

"Go, sleep, warm." He tries to form a coherent thought.

"If y'all don't get your asses up right now I'm pouring ice water on both of you." A husky growl comes from right over them.

Ocean eyes blink open as he struggles to bring the room into focus.

A scary, bright-eyed Reyna is glaring at them and Leo is leaning against the door frame, mirth swimming in his expression.

"Finally," Hazel laughs, "So can we get this party started?"

"Ugh," Percy groans, "What time is it?"

"Half twelve. We let ourselves in after knocking at your door so long your neighbor came to tell you off for having sex in the kitchen."

"What?" He isn't awake enough for Leo's explanations.

"Cause you know banging against the wall?" His friend prompts but Percy just waves him off and rubs at his eyes, nudging Jason to get up.

"So when's lunch?"

Frank steps into the room with a reassuring smile, "On the way. I just ordered."

"Are we having Christmas in here then?" He asks.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Reyna shrugs.

And before Percy can protest Leo is catapulting onto the bed and Hazel is flopping over their legs.

"Wow Jase," She pokes at the blonde, "You bony shins are really comfortable against my spine."

"Who asked you to collapse onto my bones?" He grumbles, trying to wake himself up.

"Who asked you to be sleeping on Christmas morning?" She shoots back cheekily.

"Touchè." He grins, moving over to make her comfortable.

"Well," Percy looks at his friends, eyes shining, "What are you two waiting for? Get on here!"

Reyna and Frank shake their heads, like the parents they were so rightfully labeled, but happiness sparks in their eyes and they dive under the covers.

"So who wants to play Go Fish or Forfeit?" Leo smiles gleefully.

A shout of excitement goes up and they all shuffle into a circle, the blue-threaded black silk duvet being tucked around them. He grabs the double pack of cards he keeps at his nightstand and distributes seven per person.

"Everyone know the rules?" He asks.

They all nod. So the Christmas festivities begin.

And there in that room, on that bed, Percy and his friends know what warmth feels like, and the glittering in their eyes can only mean love.

[delimeful]

WIBAR Intermission: Making Adjustments (2)

WIBAR INT chapter 1 

if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story here and the ao3 story here! 

warnings: tension, fear, panic attack, mention of blood, and nightmares

-

Once he heard the sounds of the others waking, Virgil managed to work up the courage to head out to the common area, mostly to reassure his stupid brain that Patton really was safe.

Predictably, trouble immediately found him in the form of one very large, very pissed-off alien. 

Fortunately, he was too tired from staying up panicking all night to flinch at Roman’s approach. He raised an eyebrow in question, watching him for any sign of attack. “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?!” Roman echoed angrily, his huge clawed hands twitching. “What’s wrong is that you apparently decided to gallivant around our ship without supervision for the whole night!” 

Virgil tensed, his heart rate picking up. Did that mean that Roman really had seen him last night, and just acted otherwise? 

Before he could ask, there was an excited trill from the hall. 

“Virgil!” A flurry of bright blue feathers darted into the room, launching itself directly at his chest. 

He caught the Ampen with a wheeze, ignoring the little black spots in the corners of his vision. Relief filled him at the sight of his friend unharmed, and his shoulders lost some of their stiffness. “Hey, Pat.” 

Roman was twitching harder now, his eyes narrowed in a piercing red glare, but Patton didn’t seem to notice. “Where’d you go last night? I went to check on you before bed and you weren’t in your room!” 

Virgil felt a strange happy tug in his chest at the knowledge that Patton hadn’t forgotten about him, and his lips twitched up for a second before he processed the rest of his query. “Huh? Yes I was.” 

“No, you weren’t,” Roman growled. 

Patton leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s just grumpy because he was up patrolling all night even though I told him over and over that you weren’t going to do anything.” 

Virgil shrugged, careful not to upset Patton’s balance. “Well, that’s a shame, because I was in my room. I just wasn’t sleeping in the bed.” 

Roman said something in another language, but Virgil could recognize being called on his bullshit by the tone alone. He rolled his eyes, and turned to head into the hallway. 

“Fine, I’ll prove it.” 

They ran into Logan on the way to the bedroom, and he tucked his extra set of arms behind his back and followed them curiously, confirming that he had also believed Virgil had abandoned the room for the night. 

He had a lot to say when Virgil showed them the cabinet he’d spent the night curled up in, and then upon further prompting, gave a demonstration of how he “managed to fit” in it. 

Roman was speechless for a record-breaking minute and a half, until he noticed the lack of a cabinet door. 

Virgil pulled the mangled door out from beneath the egg-bed-hammock thing sheepishly. “It was an accident.” 

“You kicked through solid Plylon?” Logan asked, eyes bright with interest.

“You kicked through solid Plylon?” Roman asked, in a much more displeased tone of voice. 

“Kiddo, is there something wrong with the bed?” Patton asked, completely unfazed by the destroyed furnishing. Virgil gingerly set the Plylon(?) board down. 

“No, I just… slept easier in the small space,” he answered, having no idea what the word for cabinet was in Common. 

“Do you require a different room? I’m certain we can arrange a smaller or more contained bed,” Logan offered, something in his voice setting Virgil on edge.

“No, really, this works fine,” he insisted, and then resigned himself to lying. “It’s just like beds at home.” 

It wasn’t like he’d be not-sleeping here much longer anyhow. There was no point in making them waste their time on stuff for him. 

“Okay, if you’re sure…,” Patton said. Virgil nodded, and let the tiny alien drag him back to the commons. The last glimpse he got of the others were the two of them engaged in quiet conversation, Logan holding the shredded cabinet door out appraisingly. 

He shuddered, and didn’t look back again.

“You want anything?” Patton asked, a common phrase from back when they were forced to barter and gather for their food. Virgil forced himself not to automatically answer in the negative. There wasn’t a scarcity of food here, he didn’t have to skimp out so Patton would get a full meal. He was lucky the Ampen hadn’t realized that Virgil had been misleading him about how much humans needed to eat.

“Uh, sure. I’ll eat whatever.” One learned not to be picky when living as a hunted fugitive in space. Plus, apparently most “deathworlders” could eat things that would be considered poisonous to other aliens. He supposed his former caffeine addiction would seem outrageous to these guys. 

By the time Patton returned with bowls and silverware, Logan and Roman had returned to the commons, claiming their own spots on the couch built into the floor. Virgil made a note of where they were sitting for future reference of seats to avoid, studiously ignoring the two aliens’ gazes. 

Outright questions were more difficult to ignore. 

“Virgil, was it?” Logan started, stressing the second vowel for too long. Names didn’t translate too well in Common, so Virgil nodded vaguely, not bothering to correct him. “How often do you eat?” 

Oh great, the one question he didn’t want to answer in front of Patton. Virgil stared at him blankly for a moment, and then shoved an oversized piece of fruit into his mouth to stall for time. He immediately regretted the action as he began to gag on the overwhelmingly sweet flavor. 

Strangely enough, Logan immediately recoiled, and tucked all four of his arms behind himself. “My apologies,” he offered in a much more reserved tone, eyes averted. 

Virgil’s mouth was too occupied with the miscellaneous space fruit he was half-choking on to ask what the hell Logan thought he’d done wrong, so he held up a finger in a gesture of ‘just a second, let me finish inhaling this fruit’. 

There was a loud cracking noise a few feet away, and Virgil turned in time to watch Roman shake the splintered remains of his eating utensils from his claws. 

“I’m going to bed,” he announced with the dark anger of a wronged anime protagonist, and promptly stomped out of the room. Patton chirped a sound that was the Ampen equivalent of clicking his tongue. Virgil continued to choke on the damn fruit for another few moments. 

“What… was that all about?” he managed as his airway finally cleared up. “What’d I do?” 

Logan finally looked up at him again, a strange curiosity in his gaze. “You don’t know?” 

“Virgil was smuggled fresh off the planet, Lo,” Patton chimed in helpfully. “He hasn’t gotten any sensitivity training. You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought he was going to take a bite out of me just from how he was staring!” 

Virgil planted his face in his hands to hide his mortified flush. He spent a lot of time dissociating in that cell- he hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the time!  

“So, the threat displays are… unintentional, then?” Logan asked, and Patton gave an affirmative whistle. 

“What are... threat displays?” Virgil asked, clumsily sounding out the unfamiliar Common. Logan visibly perked up.

“The baring of teeth and extended jaw are signs of aggression in many cultures,” he explained, lifting his arms to gesture. “Beyond the fact that he truly does need sleep after staying up for so long, I believe Roman left because pointing with one digit is a gesture of disrespect in Crav’n sign. They have a language formed solely by hand signals and body gesturing, due to the prevalence of early-onset deafness in some adults.” 

“I- hold on.” Virgil turned to Patton. “Baby words for the idiot, please,” he requested, using the English word for idiot.

“I hope you’re not speaking bad about yourself, Virgil!” Patton knew him too well. The Ampen frowned suspiciously at him for a moment longer before repeating what Logan had said in simpler words, with some added English and gesturing for what certain Common phrases meant. Logan watched the byplay with wide, intrigued eyes. 

Virgil nodded, wishing he had a manual for alien body language. And a Common-to-English dictionary, while he was at it. And maybe a free spaceship ride home.

“I know about sign language,” he finally offered, fingerspelling his name in example. “Humans have… uh. Hearing-gone?” How had he already forgotten the word, Logan had just said it.

“Deafness?” Logan offered tentatively, and Virgil offered a quirk of his lips in thanks. 

“We have deafness also, there are many causes,” Virgil didn’t have the vocabulary to describe the human tradition of gathering together to have performers blast loud music directly at them at close range without sounding like a dumbass, so he left it at that. Who knew if aliens even got tinnitus. 

“Interesting,” Logan said, tracing patterns in the air with his lower hands. “I would have presumed- ah, guessed that weaker individuals wouldn’t have persisted- or, lived long enough to form a cultural touchstone like a sign language on a world like yours.”

Logan’s effort to dumb down his vocabulary helped, and Virgil raised an eyebrow once he figured out the implied question. “What, you think we just leave deaf people to get hurt alone?” 

He’d meant the question sarcastically, but Logan’s distinct silence was answer enough. He set his fork down despite not having eaten more than a bite of his food. “Oh.” 

Logan looked from Virgil to Patton and back, belatedly sensing his misstep. “I didn’t mean offense. I’ve simply been led to believe that human social constructs weren’t so… community-based.” 

“It’s fine,” Virgil said, careful not to come off snappish. He’d forgotten his situation, his position as a human for a moment. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pushed back from his chair, and Patton tilted his head, birdlike in his concern. “I’m just still a little tired. I’m going to rest some more.” 

“Do you want me to come with?” Patton asked, antennae leaning towards him. Virgil shook his head. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of scene would occur if Roman woke up and found them. He was supposed to be avoiding putting tension on Patton’s relationships, not increasing it. 

“No, you finish eating. I’ll probably be out later.” He didn’t meet Patton’s eyes as he turned away. Lying again. At least he knew that was what they really expected of him, being human and all.

“Is this amount of sleep normal for a human?” Virgil heard Logan ask in a not-quiet-enough tone as he left. He was out of range before he could hear Patton’s answer. 

He spent the rest of the light cycle sitting in the corner of his room behind the bed, not answering whenever Patton knocked gently on the sliding door. He couldn’t hang out, he was too busy staring blankly at the wall with only the barest perception of time passing. By the time he snapped out of his dissociative fugue, the hall lights had been dimmed and the ship was quiet once more.

Taking a spare moment to stretch away his body’s stiffness, he crawled back into the cupboard space. Sleep attempt two: electric boogaloo. He could feel exhaustion weighing on him, making his eyelids droop heavily with every blink. Surely he was tired enough to just get a dreamless coma-nap? Please? 

Barely an hour later, he jerked up and slammed his head into the roof of the compartment, breathing so stifled that he had to crawl out of the confining space before the band around his lungs loosened slightly. 

He could barely even remember what the nightmare had been about. The only things that lingered after he woke were snapshot sensations- flesh under his teeth, the feeling of being chased, Patton’s rust-orange blood too much they’ll find him run run run- and a sense of terrified dread settling deep into his bones. Probably for the best that he didn’t remember the specifics. He shuddered, pulling himself to his feet. 

As long as he avoided the part of the ship where the others slept, it wouldn’t hurt to walk around the ship a little, ease his nerves. He hoped. It wasn’t like he was going to touch anything important, just… maybe try to figure out how the kitchen worked around here. 

He was struck with a feeling of deja vu as he crept through the corridors, and snorted at realizing that he was sneaking around to get a snack like he’d done back when he was ten. Everything always seemed louder in the quiet of the night when everyone else was asleep, though it was offset slightly by the way the walls hummed. Side effect of being in a spaceship, he supposed. 

When he reached the kitchen, he realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d thought to rummage around for a snack. Logan was there, humming one of Patton’s melodies softly as he leaned over whatever he was fixing himself. His arms were more extended than Virgil had seen since their first encounter, three of them busy with making food while the fourth one traced squiggles into the air. He tilted his head curiously, and then rapped his knuckles against the wall quietly to announce his presence.

All of Logan’s hands spasmed in surprise, but his turn to face Virgil was slow and measured, not fearful. The moment he recognized him, his extra arms were tucked away behind him, and he stared at Virgil with those translucent eyes. 

“Are you nocturnal?” he asked, and Virgil blinked. It was better than being interrogated on what he was doing out of his room, he supposed. 

“Nah, just got up because I was hungry,” he answered. He couldn’t really be nocturnal if he wasn’t sleeping during the day. He wasn’t sleeping at night, either, but that was beside the point. “What are you eating?” 

Logan glanced behind himself. “Are you asking simply out of curiosity? A desire to know?”

“Uh, yeah. Just wondering.” At his response, Logan relaxed slightly and shifted aside. 

“I am eating a staple food made from ground meal and water, with a preserve- a sort of sweet topping made from fruits of my home planet.” 

It looked kind of like jam on untoasted bread, though the textures appeared slightly different. “Huh. Nice,” Virgil offered him a thumbs up, and then, at Logan’s intrigued gaze, remembered that he’d only ever explained that gesture to Patton. “It’s a hand-sign meaning ‘good’ or approval.” 

“I see!” Logan mimicked the gesture curiously with both hands, and Virgil noticed how his fingers, while similar to a human’s, tapered to a distinctly thinner point at the end. Probably pretty useful for finer, more detailed craftwork or repairs.   

“Would you like to try some?” Logan’s voice cut smoothly into his thoughts.

“What?” Virgil looked up to see the alien holding up a piece of bread. Was this out of fear, like when Patton had always let Virgil eat first back in the cell? “Oh, uh, I don’t want to take your food.” 

“I’m offering it. Sharing food is a show of community and trust in many cultures.” Logan recited the fact neutrally, but something about the way his hands tensed and untensed behind his back made Virgil think he was taking this conversation seriously regardless. 

He reached forward to take the bread, careful not to get the jam all over his hands. “Thank you.”  

Logan inclined his head slightly, long ears twitching. Virgil did his best to ignore the way he was openly staring as he bit into the bread. The crust was much softer than he’d expected, but the taste of the bread was distinctly less sweet than most white breads, almost savory. The jam on top did more than enough to provide the sugar, though, and Virgil hummed in appreciation. At least if he was going to have an allergic reaction and die from space food, it would be tasty space food. 

“Is that a sign of enjoyment?” Logan asked, clearly invested in Virgil’s opinion for whatever reason, and he nodded.  

“Yeah, it tastes really good.” His gaze trailed down to where Logan’s lower arms were drawing patterns in the air again. “Hey, why do you do that?” The arms were immediately stowed away again. “And that. Am I not supposed to look at them?” 

Logan slowly drew his arms back out, ears tilted up curiously. “No, it is okay for you to view them. I was simply trying not to startle or otherwise upset you... When the three of us first began to travel together, I had to learn how to mind my arms to avoid causing Roman undue stress.”

“Roman got nervous because of your arms?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. The huge alien didn’t seem the type to be twitchy around friends. 

“For a Crav’on, spreading one’s arms is an imminent sign of an attack. Roman hadn’t been around any Ulgorii before, so it took him a while to adjust and be able to view my gesturing without believing that I was upset or about to lunge at him,” he explained. “Do humans not feel threatened by such motions?” 

“Uh… maybe if I didn’t realize you were there at first? As long as you don’t, like, hit me, I don’t really mind if you do your little,” he wiggled his fingers in an imitation of Logan’s gestures, “thing with all your hands.” 

“I would not hit you,” Logan hurried to reassure him. “My mind-weaving is very contained even when it looks… haphazard, or messy.” 

“Mind-weaving?” Virgil asked, and then watched as Logan brought his hands forward to show him the air-patterns he was tracing. “Oh, is that what that is?” 

“Yes. It’s a method of physical memory integration for my people, to keep a record of important thoughts or data.” Logan twisted his wrist slightly. “It makes it significantly easier to recall information, as well.”

“Huh,” Virgil said, reminded of notetaking. “Why are you always doing it around me? I’m not that interesting.” 

Logan’s ears angled downwards in disagreement. “To the contrary, I’ve nearly cramped my hands recording all the information I can about you! It’s been quite the trial to keep track of all of your mannerisms and what they imply about life on your planet.”  

A trickle of unease dripped down Virgil’s spine, making goosebumps rise on his skin. “Uh, why are you doing it then?” 

The alien looked as though Virgil had asked why the sky was blue. “I have to make sure I don’t forget anything, of course. There’s never been scientific records of a human from direct contact and engagement like my conversations with you. There’s so much to learn, so many misconceptions to dispel and correct! I’d be a particularly poor scientist if I didn’t keep records of it all for the future.”

Scientist. Virgil dropped the remnants of his bread, stumbling back as adrenaline surged through him. He clutched as his heart, furious at his own physiology for making it all the easier for Logan to take more from him. Patton had said he trusted him but did Patton know? Was Patton in on it? Had all this- befriending him, speaking with him, bringing him into their home- been some insane ploy from the beginning? For what? A willing lab rat? 

Movement in the corner of his eye made his head snap up, and he bared his teeth ferally at the sight of Logan trying to reach towards him, to take. “No! Don’t- Get away from me!” 

The alien jerked away like he’d touched a hot stove, eyes big and afraid because Virgil was human and humans were monsters and they were going to get rid of him-

“Lo?” Roman’s low voice overlapped with Logan’s terrified nonsense words, Virgil’s own shallow breaths, and the sight of the Crav’on in the room was enough to snap him out of his frozen state and into flight. He shoved a chair to skid across the floor in Roman’s direction and bolted, halfway to his room before realizing that that was the first place they’d look. 

He cursed. He’d leave, get off this stupid ship and save them the trouble of booting him, but all there was outside was the cold vacuum of space, and he didn’t know how to work the stupid doors anyways. There were calls of his name from the side of the ship he’d left behind.  

Virgil found the tallest appliance he could and scaled to the top of it easily, shoving himself into the furthest shadowy corner and pretending that he was back on that ship, alone in that tiny, dark cell. At least there he knew who was going to hurt him, and when.

[noaltbruh]

Hi! Sorry I didn’t really a few days later this is my first time asking for a request I was getting nervous if the question would be cringy or sum. But how would the brucci gang react to their s/o having an addiction to spicy food (I have a obsession with hot fries >~<) and do they like spicy stuff?

My first request! Thank you so much, it's not cringe at all :)

GIORNO:

-Giorno isn't particularly fond of spicy food, he's got more of a sweet tooth to be honest. He doesn't dislike spicy stuff and will eat it with no problem if he has to, but he'd rather avoid it if possible.

-With that being said, he doesn't mind your 'obsession' for this kind of food and almost never complains about it.

-However, if he thinks you're eating too much of it, he'll tell you with no hesitation. He doesn't want his sweetheart to feel sick.

-He's honestly quite direct about it, he wants to make it clear to you that eating this kind of food all the time is extremely unhealthy.

-If it makes you happy, he'll try to eat it as well, just to see why you would like it so much.

-He'll look for high class restaurants in the city that serve spicy stuff, doesn't matter how expensive they may be!

Bucciarati:

-Just like Giorno, Bucciarati doesn't exactly like spicy food, he prefers more simple dishes.

-If you've had a bad day at school or work, or you're simply feeling down for no particular reason, you already know that Bucciarati is going to surprise you with some hot fries when you get back home.

-Needles to say, you immediately feel 10 times better after just smelling them, Bruno is the best cook out of the gang!

-At the same time, however, he's particularly worried that all that spicy stuff is going to be bad for you and your stomach. He'll try to tell you to tone it down a little, but in a less direct way compared to Giorno.

-In the most extreme cases, he may even hide your snacks so that you can't eat them! It annoys you a lot, but you know that he's just doing this because he's worried for you.

-"I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's for your own good. I promise I'll give your chips back in a couple of days"

MISTA:

-Oh man, Mista LOVES spicy food! Doesn't matter what kind of food it is, he'd eat his hat too if there was some hot sauce on it.

-What? Worrying about you eating too much of it? Nope, that doesn't exist with Mista.

-He'll always challenge you to see which one of you can eat more spicy stuff, but it ends up in a tie most of the time.

-When you manage to beat him though, you make sure to rub it in his face for at least three days.

-Sometimes your snacks randomly disappear, it doesn't take much for you to realize that it's the pistols' doing. Mista tries to control them, but they don't listen to him most of the time.

-If you're feeling good that day, you might actually give some of your food to them voluntarily, number five is the only one that thanks you for it.

-The rest of the gang is a bit concerned for you, but you don't care: that's just another thing in common!

NARANCIA:

-Sadly, it's stated in the manga that Narancia dislikes spicy food, that's a shame...

-Seeing how much you liked it, he forced himself to try some as well, but it didn't um...exactly turned out as you hoped. (He almost threw up that night, poor child.)

-He was kind of worried that you were going to dislike him because of it, he almost apologized to you for feeling bad!

-Obviously, you told him that it wasn't a problem for you, it's just food after all

-"I thought that if I ate it you would have liked me more...seems like my stomach just likes to make fun of me"

-He wouldn't dare to complain about how much you eat that stuff, he doesn't want you to think that he's "not supporting you"

-You two love eating chips together! He gets different flavored chips from your though.

FUGO:

-While you couldn't tell at first, Fugo really likes spicy food! He mostly just keeps this liking just to himself, for no particular reason whatsoever.

-You're the only one who knows about it, and you're so happy you two have something else in common! Fugo doesn't really understand why you're so excited about this, but if it makes you happy, it makes him happy

-Sometimes you lightly tease him about it, saying stuff like:"You're more of an hothead than this Chili Pepper". Fugo has gotten used to it by now.

-"Uh? Oh yeah...I guess spicy food is pretty good. What's the big deal about it?"

-You tried feeding his stand some chips once, they disappeared from your hand in less than a split second. You were low-key scared that he was going to eat your hand as well.

-Fugo is the one out of all the gang that worries about your eating habits the most, even when you're not actually eating too much of it, he may still tell you that you're exaggerating.

-However, he's also quite reluctant in telling you, he's scared you're going to be mad at him.

-"Um....Y/N, maybe you could...put those chips down? They're not very good for you, you know?"

ABBACCHIO:

-Abbacchio doesn't really like spicy food, he's probably the one of the gang that dislikes it the most after Narancia

-He simply doesn't get the appealing of "Making your tongue burn" and almost looked at Mista with a disgusted expression when he saw him eating it.

-Since his S/O likes it, however, he'll do more of an effort to like it as well. He may even order the same thing as you, after begging him for 3 times of course.

-"Fine, fine I'll eat it l, just stop saying 'please', you're going to give me an headache"

-Despite him making a scene out of something so little, you know he's just trying his best to show that he cares

-Just like Fugo, he gets veeery worried about your eating tendencies, but he's way more direct about it compared to the boy.

-"Seriously Y/N, you're eating too much, do you want to get food poisoning so bad?"

TRISH:

-Trish honestly hasn't any strong feelings when it comes to spicy stuff, similar to Bruno and Giorno.

-But if her sweetheart likes it so much, she'll be more than happy to eat it! She loves your satisfied expression after she's done eating everything in the plate.

-She isn't the biggest cook, but she'll still try to make you some homemade dishes and snacks, mostly just following recipes she found online, but still.

-Rather than being concerned about how much you eat spicy stuff, she's more worried about 'how' you eat it. Let's just say that...you're not exactly very well mannered when your favorite food is involved.

-She won't say anything about it though, the last thing she wants is to make you uncomfortable, but you should be able to tell from her facial expression while you devour 5 pringles in less than 2 seconds.

-With that being said, she still worries about you eating too much of it, and she will actively tell you about it.

-"Hey Y/N, how about you eat something else instead? Too much spicy stuff isn't very good for you"

I'M SO SORRY, I know this took longer than usual, but I've been Jojo-role-playing with my friend for a couple of days and I lost track of time eheh.