#one of our teachers was absent so we worked on our one-acts and then did karaoke

[aurkitnarulaoge]

@janehve AAAAAA

DID YOU KNOW VI WAS LESBIAN??? IN CLASS C????!!!!!! AND HER BF WAS GAY????? WTH WHY AM I FINDING THIS OUT AFTER THE YEAR ENDED!!!??????????

(Also wth is up with all the highschool 11-12 faculty having secrets and issues??? Our 11-12th grades could be an entire sitcom)

I know or heard the following because 1. I am either their favourite student 2. Because they said so or 3. Because some other student heard/said so.

Chemistry: Wanted to marry her boyfriend but her parents refused and there was nothing much she could do. Tried to divorce her husband within a year of marriage and found out she was pregnant, so she has been married for over 13 years with a guy she barely talks with (great parents tho they are) but there is a lot about the guy's family that she hates rather than the guy himself.

Maths: Had early marriage and kids. All kids are away either abroad or in another state. Her husband was mostly absent because he was in the military and now they're as good as stranger or 'friends that never talk' at best. (Not much is known of her life but we know that she probably lives alone and about 45 min drive away in the next town.)

Biology: Had a fking crazy life. Her mother married a muslim, had her but divorced because she realised she didn't want to convert. She grew up with divorced parents, married a muslim guy, guy turned out to be jobless and had drinking issues. Divorced. Married a Christian guy (also teacher) BUT the guy already had a family (that he got rid off while she promised to wait). Married rn.

Hindi: never fking got married after she and a guy from her own caste dated in her early 20s. The guy was probably a drug dealer and addict but he was rumoured to have become abusive. She tested him for five whole years and he lost his shit. She filed a case against him. Cried. Got him sentenced for 6-8 years. Got rid of her family connections at a young age.

English: has two grown men as children but acts like they are in their honeymoon phase. The typical wife that dominates her husband. Her husband is the principal. Often gets all worked up when someone mentions the principal. Acts like she doesnt care but lets be honest u know that we all know and that we all know that u know that we know that u know.

Physics: idgaf her husband could be an actor in the Hollywood and i wouldn't be surprised. She's beautiful too but looks unmarried if not for the mangalsutra and sindoor. Dainty lil pari thought we wouldn't notice but we did when she was all happy one day but that she was all moody the day before. HAD A KID ALL THIS TIME!!??

And don't get me started with the science students plz

20 students and we're singlehandedly disrupting an entire teaching staff of 150+ teachers— I mean how many students even know what the 1st grade teachers' name is?

The girls are notorious for being bullies, ganging up on other students, and yeah basketball too.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/18

What am I feeling today?

Just so tired and a little stressed out. I have an exam today but I feel pretty decent about it, been praying over it and we’ll see what happens. Also, I’m just desperate to get back into the groove of things, get back to my routine.

Bible Plan: Spiritual Wilderness

Back in the days when I was in school, every time the teacher gave us a test, there was silence. Before the test, the teacher would teach but during the test the teacher was silent. The teacher’s silence didn’t mean that the teacher was absent - I was taking a test. I was tempted to raise my hand and ask about a question that was on the test, but I knew the teacher wouldn’t give me any answers. Why? Because I was the one taking the test. When we are not being tested, we can ask any question and get an answer, but during the test, there is silence from the teacher.

Spiritual dryness usually is accompanied by this sort of silence from God. When God is silent in your life, that might mean you’re taking a test.

God’s silence is not God’s absence. It means that we are being tested. One of the things we had to do in school whenever we took a test was to remember what the teacher had taught us before the test. Remembering is the same principle at work in a spiritual wilderness. So often during our dry times, we tend to remember the things we should forget and forget the things we should remember.

Like students, we have to remember what God has said and done to get us through this test. In our minds we must build memorials to His miracles; but instead, some of us build monuments to our mistakes. That’s why we are flunking our test in the wilderness.

Great faith in dry times is really found in having a good memory of God’s past faithfulness and God’s promises. David overcame Goliath by remembering God’s faithfulness when he encountered the bear and the lion. Jesus overcame the devil in the wilderness by quoting the Scriptures that He remembered.

I really love this analogy, I feel that it perfectly applies and it also feels on point with the exam I’m about to take! But also, I know there are times when I can go back and thing and focus on my mistakes and what I did wrong that could’ve led me to a specific moment but why should I? One we’re told not to dwell on the past but also it’ll just hurt me more. Instead, it’s great to think about how God has been faithful to us and all the ways He has provided in the past and keep the faith that as we go through this spiritual desert, He’ll be there on the other side with open arms!

1 Chronicles 16:8-12 NIV

“Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always. Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced,”

We should always look to Him with praise in our eyes and on our tongues. I mean, He’s just absolutely incredible! Why shouldn’t we praise Him? And further, this continues in saying to remember all the miracles He has done. I think it’s always important to remember that God doesn’t owe us anything. Nothing at all. He’s in no way required to bless us. But He does anyways. Even just being alive shows His grace and mercy for us and I think that’s a beautiful thing!

2 Chronicles 32:31 NIV

“But when envoys were sent by the rulers of Babylon to ask him about the miraculous sign that had occurred in the land, God left him to test him and to know everything that was in his heart.”

I don’t really know the context for this because I haven’t taken much time to study out the Old Testament, but here we can see an example of how God tests us. Here’s the thing, God of course already knows what’s in our hearts because He knows everything. The reason He tests us is so that we may know what’s in our hearts because I think a lot of people are unaware of what their true nature actually is.

[lovelylilpostitnotes]

‘86 Baby

Here is a chapter 3 of my Eddie Munson x Reader fanfiction. It follows the plot of season four, with a little time prior to the events of the show. I’ve tried to keep this fic as self-insertable as possible without making the reader’s character totally flat. And of course please feel free to use your imagination and switch details in your head if you so please. Happy reading everyone!

Here is a link to Chapter 1 if you’re new!

(and my apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes, if you see ‘em let me know so I can fix it)

Chapter 3

When I sat down in English class the next day, I was all alone at our table. Sure it was still a little early, but Eddie’s absence was making me nervous anyways. Mostly just because I didn’t want Mrs. O’Donnell to have the satisfaction of feeling right, but I also didn’t want her to actually be right.

My foot began to tap anxiously as the clock ticked and the warning bell passed. He was still absent and most of the class had filled in by then. I risked a peek up at Mrs. O’Donnell’s desk and felt my ears burn when I saw her smug expression. Shit.

“Alright everybody, how about we get started,” she said as she stood up and walked around to sit on her desk. “Get out your copies please, and the sheet I sent home with you.”

I sighed softly and opened up my folder, pulling everything out. It was only the second day of school, he couldn’t seriously be skipping already.

“Y/n Y/l/n, why don’t you start us off,” Mrs. O’Donnell said.

I cleared my throat softly as my face began to burn, “well I-”

“I’m here! I’m here!” Eddie shouted as he burst into the room.

I watched as her smug expression fell and changed to one of irritation.

“Sit down, Munson.”

He nodded and saluted her before running over to his seat, sitting down quickly and dumping all of the messy papers onto the desk.

Mrs. O’Donnell chose to ask someone else in what I thought was an attempt to spare her dignity so I reached over and pulled Eddie’s work out of the pile.

“Where were you?” I asked softly.

“Stupid van wouldn’t start this morning,” he grumbled as he stuffed everything into his backpack. “And then I dropped all my shit trying to make it to class.”

“I’m glad you made it,” I said, lowering my voice when the teacher’s gaze flitted over us.

“Me too,” he grinned at me and then sat at attention, mirroring his act from yesterday. Except today.. he raised his hand.

“What is it, Mr. Munson?” Mrs. O’Donnell asked exasperatedly.

“I know the answer.” His head was tilted up proudly.

“Oh, then pray tell, what is it?”

“The line ‘fair is foul and foul is fair’ means that not everything is what it seems,” he answered, a little snottily even.

Mrs. O’Donnell swallowed uncomfortably and nodded, “that is correct.”

Eddie sat back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head. “Booyah,” he murmured quietly just for me.

“You really did the work?” I whispered, grinning slightly.

“I really did, you see, there was this scary motherfucker who basically threatened my life in the school parking lot last night over it, so I thought I’d better follow through.”

“Oh shut up,” I grumbled, turning away from him to hide my smile.

“Hey, seriously though, I’ll do my half,” he said, his tone changing.

I turned back to him, my smile soft, “I know you will.”

I could’ve sworn something flickered behind his eyes, but I decided I was just trying to convince myself of something that wasn’t there in order to satisfy my daydreams and fantasies.

For the rest of class we sat in silence, stealing little looks over at each other after having been told to pipe down by Mrs. O’Donnell. He would make a face, I would giggle, and then he’d give me the dopiest grin ever. It made my heart soar, even if it was just him being friendly.

By the end of the period I was on cloud nine, so much so that I pulled out my walkman and put in my romantic mix. It was the most splendid walk to art class imaginable.

I listened to my music the whole duration of class, a new little privilege I was very much enjoying. Art class was so much better when the teacher just gave us an assignment and set us loose to work on it. And since it was my senior year, the only assignment we had was to build a portfolio in our favorite mediums.

For my first work I had chosen to work with oil paints. I hadn’t decided on a subject yet, but after a few minutes of staring at the canvas while Take My Breath Away played softly through my headphones an idea struck me.

I dipped my brush into some of the deep blue paint and began setting down my base and background. By the time the bell rang, I had gotten so much work done I had surprised even myself. The inspiration had hit me like a lightning strike and propelled me so deep into the work I hadn’t even felt time pass.

On my way out, I hurriedly washed my hands and was busy drying them off on my clothes when I slammed into someone.

“Oh- I’m so sorry,” I gasped, grabbing my backpack as it slipped off my shoulder.

“S’okay,” a familiar voice said softly.

I looked up and saw that it was Eddie and my heart stopped. This was really starting to feel like some romance novel and it was making me borderline suspicious. “Oh, hi there,” I said, blinking to clear my mind.

“What’ve you got next?” he asked, smiling down at me.

“Um.. history!” I blurted out.

He chuckled and then backed away from me, nodding his head as if to tell me to follow.

It took my brain a moment to compute but once it did, I was hurrying off after him.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about Macbeth,” he started.

“Alright!”

There was a long pause before he spoke, like he was trying to think of something to say. Which was odd considering he had sought me out to discuss the play.

“Did you um- do you understand all the shitty words Shakespeare uses?” he offered up awkwardly.

“Well I’ve read the play before and my teacher broke it down for us, so yes, but initially I didn’t always know what he meant, no,” I answered with a smile. It seemed like he was just trying to make conversation under the guise of school, which was sweet.

“Would you mind, uh, taking some time to explain Act 1 to me then?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t mind at all, when are you free? We’d better get you caught up before we have to read again tomorrow,” I said with a smile.

“Are you busy at lunch?”

“No, not really, I usually just sit with my friend Robin so you can come over to our table if you want,” I offered.

He nodded and smiled at me, “that sounds perfect, thank you for gracing me with your time, fairest elven scholar.” He finished with a flurry of his hand and a shallow bow.

I grinned at the silly little act, “you know, no one’s ever called me a fair elf before, other than you.”

“Well I do pride myself on my originality,” he said with a stupid grin.

“I’m sure you do, Munson,” I laughed softly and stopped by the door of my classroom. “Alright, this is my stop, I’ll see you at lunch.”

“See ya,” he said, backing away and saluting me, and tripping over someone’s foot in the process.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I giggled, quickly ducking into the room so he wouldn’t see me laughing.

My next two classes were like hell on earth, dragging on endlessly thanks to my growing anticipation. I was so excited that I almost knocked over my chair in 4th period trying to get up as soon as the bell rang. And that wasn’t the only destruction I was leaving in my wake, I almost barreled down several freshmen on my way to the cafeteria.

Once inside, I rushed to my table and sat down in a flurry of loose paper and bags.

Robin looked terribly startled and immediately knew something was up. “Oh God, what have you done?” she asked with a smile

“EddieMunsoniscomingtositwithussopleasejustplayitcool,” I gasped out as I organized everything and pulled out my copy of Macbeth.

“Are you serious?” her grin was practically splitting her face in two.

“I am so so so serious, he asked me to go over Act 1 with him after a very long pause, meaning he very well could’ve just been making an excuse to talk to me and you know what it means when someone makes excuses to talk to you?” my mouth was moving a mile a minute as I caught her up on everything.

“You’ve done it, I can’t believe you’ve done it!”

We shrieked back and forth at each other for at least a minute, my energy charging her up like a battery.

“Oh oh oh! He’s coming! He’s coming!” she shrieked right in my ear. “I’m gonna make myself scarce, you’ve got this!” And with that she squeezed my shoulders, shrieked one last time, and then darted off across the cafeteria to sit with some of the band kids she knew.

I watched as she retreated and then began to anxiously tousle my hair, trying not to absolutely lose my shit.

“Well hello there,” his smug voice called as he turned a chair around and dropped down in it right across from me.

“Hi,” I breathed out, regaining control of myself just in time.

“Where do we start?”

“Probably page one.”

“That felt a little aggressive, dontcha think?”

“Maybe a little,” I laughed with him as I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Alright, here we go.”

We spent the whole lunch period deciphering as much of Act 1 as we could. Both of us slowly leaning in closer over the table. I could feel people watching us, unfriendly people, but I paid them no mind. I wanted Eddie to know that I didn’t give two shits about what guys like Jason Carver thought of him. And anyways, I was far too concerned with how each time I spoke, he’d look up from the page and stare right into my eyes. I was surprised I’d managed to explain anything clearly to him at all with how intense the tension was.

“Ah, that’s the bell,” I said softly, our eyes still locked from the line I had been explaining before.

“What a shame,” he smiled at me, his arms crossed in front of him, “say, don’t we still have three scenes left?”

“Mhm, we do,” my brain was starting to go fuzzy.

“What’re you doing after school?”

“I’d have to check my calendar, but I’d assume absolutely nothing.”

“Meet me by the bleachers then,” and with that he pushed off out of his seat and backed away from me once again, this time managing not to trip on anyone before he turned around to walk forwards.

I completely collapsed against the table, giggling softly into my hand, and Robin had to come collect me. She walked me all the way to my class even because my head was absolutely reeling.

“If it wasn’t confirmed that he likes you before, it’s looking pretty confirmed now,” she said as she dropped me off at my next class.

“We don’t know that for sure,” I chided, but my dopey grin and absent tone said otherwise.

“Yuhuh, get to class, loser,” she said, pushing me into the room and walking off down the hall.

When I got out of school for the day, I practically ran down the hall to get outside to the bleachers. Eddie had waved at me and made faces across the classroom all of 6th period and walked me to 7th, where he once again waved and made faces. I would’ve walked with him to the bleachers, but he dipped out of the room immediately after the bell rang. So I just hurried off to my locker and made my way outside.

I walked along to the bleachers quietly, my nerves bubbling up inside me despite having just been with him at lunch and on the way to class. This time was different though, we’d be alone, and I wouldn’t have Robin sending me thumbs up from across the cafeteria anymore to cheer me on.

My worries turned into a simple buzzing sound the moment I saw him though. He was sitting on the bleachers with his jackets and school things beside him. So not only were his tattoos out, but the son of a bitch decided he wanted to man-spread, lean over, and rest his elbows on his knees while spinning his rings. It was like my brain was melting out of my ears, which was problematic since we were meeting so that I could translate Shakespeare for him.

In order to hopefully regain some of my former intelligence, I tore my eyes away from him and watched the ground as I walked, not looking up again until he had called out to me and I’d made it to the bleachers.

“Hey there,” I said, words coming easier than I’d expected as I plopped down beside him.

“Hey, how was the walk here?” he asked with a stupid grin.

“Well I made good time so,” I answered, playing along with his poor small talk. “You ready to finish Act 1?”

“Oh, always,” he replied with a little laugh and then he fell silent as he watched me get my copy out.

My fingers slipped trying to grab my binder and then while trying to get the play out. Why did his stare have to pull every plug in my brain? It took me a few minutes, but I finally had the copy out and flipped to the right page.

As I read, he would pause me and I would explain what the line was supposed to mean, and then I’d continue on. That’s what we did for the next 20 minutes. And I might’ve been imagining, but I could have sworn he was turning his body and scooting closer with every pause. In fact, by the end of the final scene, his leg was touching mine and our shoulders were almost brushing.

“Everything make sense?” I asked, refusing to look up from my paper for fear that I would start blushing.

“Oh yeah, I’ve totally got it now,” his voice was light and playful and I could hear his rings clank together as he clapped his hands.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” I finally looked up at him.

“Well, I’ve got no idea what’s going on in math, and it’s only the second day.”

I laughed softly, “well I’m afraid I can’t help you there, I never know either.”

“How is that possible?” He cocked his head at me, smiling smugly.

“With English or history or science, even if I don’t fully get something I can just bullshit, but with math? Whole other ballpark.”

“In that case, can I at least drive you home?” his smile grew softer.

“I’m afraid not, unless you want to tow my car behind yours.”

“Damnit, you’re really killing me here,” he laughed and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see me Monday,” I said as I nudged his shoulder.

“That’s a whole weekend away, whatever will I do without you, fair elven scholar?”

“Well, Munson,” I said as I packed my bag and stood up, “you could always find me in the phonebook and give me a ring.” And then I was off down the bleacher stairs. “See you Monday!”

[aeoki]

Blackjack - Epilogue 1

Location: Yumenosaki Student Council Room Characters: Shinobu & Mayoi Season: Winter

TL Note:

To be precise, this is from December 29th until January 3rd.

Just to clarify, the Japanese school/working year begins and ends in April. 

Urashima Tarou is a Japanese fairy tale that tells the story of how a fisherman (Urashima Tarou) rescues a turtle and is rewarded with a visit to the Dragon Palace. There, he spends several days with the princess but returns to land only to discover one hundred years has passed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ< One week later – New Year’s Day. Yumenosaki Academy, Student Council Room. >

Mayoi: Happy New Yeaaaarrrr.

I–I apologise for showing such a grim expression during the New Year. It’s depressing, isn’t it? Seeing my gloomy face.

Shinobu: Happy New Year ~de gozaru…

You’re in perfect form during the New Year in a bad sense, huh. Where did your confident attitude during “Star Fest” go? Was it an illusion that only I saw?

Mayoi: I–I suppose you could say I was just influenced by the atmosphere back then.

I couldn’t show my pathetic side in front of my student. Although, it was just a short teacher-student relationship that came into being due to how things unfolded.

It is standard for the phantom to show his disgraceful behaviour in front of the songstress, though.

Anyway, I see you two are working right after the New Year – Chief, Anzu-san.

Shinobu: Yeah. I couldn’t sleep since I was too excited for “SS”, so I thought about stopping by the student council room.

I wanted to see who would be in. Then, I saw Anzu-dono working on some paperwork at the speed of light and that nearly scared me half to death.

Mayoi: Hehe. Anzu-san was under house arrest for the entirety of “SS” and was only released right before the Main Stage began – or so I’ve heard.

She must have a mountain of things she needs to do and things she wants to do.

But working during the New Year holidays[1] is banned under the Labour Standards Act or whatnot, so she decided to bring her work to Yumenosaki instead.

Shinobu: She’s a real workaholic ~de gozaru. Truly knock on wood. You’re just asking to get sick again, you know?

Hm? You say you’re not actually working…?

Then what are you doing? You’re rummaging through a lot of paperwork, though…?

Hmm? You’re searching for traces of Hitsugi Kurone?

Mayoi: Ahh, it was truly unfortunate what happened to them.

We had a lot of fun singing together on the “Star Fest” stage for a while.

Then, NEGI-san suddenly left the stage. We let our guard down and she broke away from us, leaving us all alone.

We still don’t know why she did that.

But NEGI-san got away from our wall of flesh and “Priest’s” subordinates decided that would be the perfect time to aim for her…

She was shot and ended up with a fatal injury that even medical treatment may not be of any help.

According to the doctor who brought her to the hospital in a hurry, it was practically immediate death.

Shinobu: …I still can’t believe it. It feels like some nightmare ~de gozaru.

Kurone-dono refused visitors after he was admitted to hospital.

I couldn’t get a hold of any information after that, so all I could do was to focus on the “SS” Main Stage right in front of us.

But I always remembered the smile NEGI-dono had on stage that day and her beautiful singing.

No. NEGI-dono was shot and she lost a lot of blood… It makes me feel awful every time I remember that scene.

It felt as though the NEGI-dono in my memory was scolding me – telling me not to stand there absent-mindedly and to smile and sing if I’m an idol.

That’s why I was just barely able to endure it all. I was able to overcome “SS” right until the very end.

But I can’t take it anymore… I’m a little tired.

Mayoi: Hehe. She has really haunted us in that sense.

We were haunted by a mysterious child who was like a hallucination or a ghost – a girl who detested idols but grew to love them a little at the very end.

Maybe she really was a ghost. Tell me, did she really exist?

Everyone was sparkling brightly like a proper idol during “SS” as if that tragedy never happened.

That’s why it makes me wonder if it was all a dream…

Shinobu: Hm? It wasn’t a dream? What do you mean, Anzu-dono?

Hmm? What are those documents…? Uhh, they’re this year’s[2] dreamfest proposals submitted from the summer until the current day…?

What about them ~de gozaru? Huh, the one who came up with them?

They’re all names I’ve seen before. It’s the Student Council’s job to receive them and judge whether they’re worthy of implementation.

Those proposals are all written by fairly well-known and influential students from the “Producer Course”. Err, in other words, they’re mostly from the “Peace Party”.

Huh? You want us to look into them and see if they actually exist? Well, I’m a ninja so conducting investigations is in my area of expertise but… why?

Hmm? It may not be all of them but there’s a chance that some of them are “people who don’t actually exist” – people who Kurone-dono disguised himself as?

Mayoi: Come to think of it, Hitsugi-kyun mentioned that he was skilled in disguises. No, it was transforming into others to be precise…

Shinobu: Which means, uhh, what does that mean ~de gozaru?

Mayoi: Perhaps he was a performer in his own work.

Shinobu: Huh? What?

Mayoi: I’ve heard that Hitsugi-kyun was bullied by the “Peace Party” and Anzu-san was the one who saved him.

Just like the turtle who was saved by Urashima Tarou[3].

They met each other and conspired together in the secret feud between them and the “Peace Party”.

What if their encounter and their series of confrontations with the “Peace Party” was all just Hitsugi-kyun who disguised himself as those influential members of the “Peace Party” and did all the work himself…?

Shinobu: …You’re saying Kurone-dono put on an act and did all that in order to curry Anzu-dono’s favour? Since she was said to be a legendary “producer” and was powerful within Yumenosaki and ES?

Mayoi: Not only that, maybe the tragedy during “Star Fest” was also…

Come to think of it, right before the tragedy unfolded, I met Mr. “Gatekeeper” at the dead of night in school. He seemed rather suspicious.

He helped Hitsugi-kyun escape from my family’s residence.

Shinobu: Oh, so that’s why Kurone-dono was on that stage.

Mayoi: Yes… While Mr. “Gatekeeper” was getting Hitsugi-kyun out, there must have been a chance for them to talk alone.

Maybe… the two of them conspired together to come up with a plan.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[teethburger]

VENT INCOMING

ok so the last few days my dad and I have been working our asses off to prepare me for my math exam, my dad is really passionate about it and pretty much educated himself on all the material to teach me, because I’ve been absent from that class for medical reasons. We watched videos, did TONS of exercises from the coursebook, we spent entire DAYS preparing for everything that was on the study guide and then some, I worked and worked until I could do all the exercises perfectly. I knew all the formulas, my parents were congratulating me, I was so confident that I would ace this exam.

Come the day of the exam, I look at the paper and I’m immediately anxious because it looks so much harder than everything I studied (which is EVERYTHING). I tried to calm myself down and do as much as I could, but it quickly became clear that the exercises on the exam were WAY more difficult than those in the coursebook. Some of them asked for things that we didn’t even cover. I started crying and asked the attending teacher if I could call my dad. I called him and explained what was going on, but he couldn’t really do anything from a distance, so he told me to just do the things I did know. I did, but the grand majority of the problems were impossible to solve with the material we learned. I checked multiple times if it was the right exam. My math teacher (the one who smells) came to sit next to me and just went “hey, you did this one right!!! Just try your best to do the others!!!”, completely disregarding the exercises that I literally couldn’t finish. Eventually I had to give up because there was nothing else I could do. At this point I was just pissed. Me and my dad worked ourselves to the bone in 31 degree Celsius weather to ace this exam with all the material we’d been given, and then it was all for nothing. I already noticed this in some previous tests, but this exam confirmed it; I’m actually really good at math if I try my best and it’s taught correctly, my teacher is just an asshole who makes his tests way harder than the material we learned. All of the attending teachers, including him, were acting like I was just insecure about my abilities, BUT I WASN’T. I did all of the exercises PERFECTLY just yesterday, I was completely confident that I understood all the principles and knew how to make the exercises. After some more back and forth and drama, they called my dad to pick me up (without my prompting, might I add) and I had to hand in this exam mostly blank.

NOW, the principal apparently told my dad that we have to go get a doctor’s note so I could be excused from this exam. I, the person who was given an impossible exam and pretty much had a panic attack, have to get a doctor’s note to justify my inability to do the exam. Still heavily implying that there’s something wrong with ME because I couldn’t do an exam I wasn’t prepared for. We actually have to go to a doctor in the near future so she can write a note explaining why I didn’t finish the exam (I still for the life of me can’t figure out what she’s gonna write. “My teacher was too much of an asshole to finish this exam”??), which also interferes with my studies for my other exams.

I seriously don’t know why the fuck this is allowed. Or how any of my classmates could possibly pass this exam. I was even given the teacher’s notes to study from, because I’m not physically going to his class anymore. How the fuck is there something wrong with me because I couldn’t do an exam that I was never properly prepared for? My dad couldn’t even look at the exam, so I couldn’t prove my point to him (he does believe me and shares my opinion, but no one else is listening to me). I don’t understand how they can blame this on me. What am I even supposed to say to a doctor? Why are they so fucking unfair on me and trying to pin the blame on me? Agggggggggggggh I’m just so angry rn I don’t even have the words

[fullmoonfireball]

y’know what, even if today had some uhhh. roughspots. I’m still lowkey on the emotional high that came from getting to do Jump Up Superstar! on our musical theatre class’ lil Karaoke Morning

[multiharlot]

love on the moon // matt murdock x musician!reader

summary: reader writes a song about matt, and it's not the song anyone expected

warnings: pretty angsty, a bit of cursing, season 2 matt so we know how that goes, this one is a bit of a long one!

based on the song love on the moon by catie turner

masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

you were sitting on the couch in the living room, guitar in hand and notebook sitting flat on the table in front of you.

you'd started creating music halfway through college and realized that you loved it. so you dropped the pre-med courses, and changed your major to music education. outside of being a music teacher, you also were creating your own songs. it was good for you. it helped you sort your emotions out.

you strummed the chords softly, humming the melody as you played along. you figured matt wouldn't be home anytime soon, the sun was still up so there was no way he'd be home. but to your luck, foggy and karen walked through the door.

"y/n! my favorite arteest!" foggy shouts happily as he walks into the living room.

"hey fog." you smile, wrapping your arms around his torso as he leans down for a hug, pressing a loud sloppy kiss on the top of your head.

"hey y/n, whatcha workin on?" karen smiles, plopping down next to you on the couch.

"new song." you shrug.

"can...we hear?" foggy asks, smirking at you as he takes a seat in the chair across from you.

"actually, yeah. i think i just finished it." you said, a somber smile on your face as you scribbled down the last set of lyrics and wrote down the last chords on the paper.

"what's it about?" karen asks, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"umm...matt."

"finally." foggy smiles, leaning back into the chair.

yeah...finally, you thought.

prior to this song, you hadn't written any songs about matt. you've started plenty of them, but never finished them. until now.

you began strumming softly, bobbing your head slightly.

you've been acting kind of funny, didn't think it was me, didn't think we had any issues cause you looked like a bolt of lighting burning in the sky and i'm the bird who wants to fly with you

matt had been absent a lot lately. running around the city with elektra. day and night. abandoning his work, his friends, his responsibilities, everything. and that included you. at first, you thought he was avoiding you. that you'd done something wrong. but the more it happened, the more dinners he missed and the more you'd woken up to an empty bed, you'd realized it wasn't you at all. and you craved his presence. you'd just moved in a few months prior, and it was almost as though the moment you did, he slowly started to disappear. you tried chasing him. tried waiting up at night to catch him coming home. tried waiting in his office for the moments he did decide to show up. but it slowly began to feel like you were chasing a ghost. you were lonely.

what does it take, take to be somebody new? you're asking for space, let's make love on the moon.

"i'm trying to save the city, y/n. and you're suffocating me! i'm sorry i missed dinner, i am. but i have bigger things on my plate right now!" he shouted, chuckling dryly as he placed the helmet on his head.

you just stood there, unsure of what to say.

"i'm sorry. i just...i miss you. you're gone all the time now and i-"

"i'm just trying to make my city, our city, a safer place. just...give me some space to do that." he sighed.

he walked over, kissing your forehead briefly, and you watched longingly as he ran out the door.

i've been listening to bowie, reading books you showed me just trying to bring the stardust like you do and i could stare at you forever sorry for the pressure, just trying to feel as close as we used to

one night, you were sitting in bed, listening to one of matt's favorite songs, reading one of his favorite books, wearing one of his shirts. in attempt to feel just a little closer to him, and you'd fallen asleep. matt came home pretty soon after you'd fallen asleep, and his heart broke as he saw you curled up on his side of the bed, your face nuzzled into his pillow, wearing his shirt, his favorite book about to fall out of your grasp and onto the floor, and he could hear his favorite song playing on repeat through the headphones.

he'd never meant for any of this to happen. to push you away like he did. but it happened. he didn't actually want space, he just wanted to save his city. and he wanted to make you happy. but evidently, he couldn't do both at the same time. he showered and changed and slid into bed next to you. he laid there for a moment, just looking at you. he wanted to hold you, but he was afraid to wake you. you just looked so exhausted, so he withheld the urge and just decided to fall asleep.

the continuous music playing through your headphones had woken you up, and you sat up to take the headphone off when you realized matt was laying next to you. sleeping softly. you gently placed the headphones and the book on the table next you and laid on your side, facing him. reaching your hand out and gently pushing the hair out of his face. you felt your chest tighten as you stared at him. you were pining for someone who wasn't there anymore. yeah he was there, you lived in the same apartment. but he wasn't there. you'd stayed up all night that night just to look at him. to be awake and with him at the same time. but at some point, you'd fallen asleep, and when you woke up again, he was gone.

what would it take for you to see somebody new? you're asking for space let's make love on the moon

foggy and karen sat there in shock as they watched you play this heartbreaking melody. everyone entirely unaware of matt sitting outside of the side door, slowly finding it harder and harder to breathe as he listened to the song you had written. nobody in that room had expected this to be the song you'd written about matt.

he made you happy. everyone knew that. you two were happy. you made each other happy. and this song was anything but.

somewhere along the way, you'd lost each other. you were clinging to remnants of him while he was off being a superhero. and that was the last thing anyone expected of you two. nobody expected a song like this to be the first song you'd written about matt. a song like this, that's about the two of you, shouldn't exist. but here you were, singing the song that shouldn't exist.

cause look at the stars lying here in my arms why would you want to be that far apart? i can go first to the ends of the earth just to prove i got space here for you

you'd thought about leaving. you'd thought about it a lot recently. but you could never actually bring yourself to do it. you just couldn't. he was the love of your life. and you couldn't picture a life without him in it. but you were exhausted. you couldn't understand how he could so easily put you on the back burner like he did. you understood his feeling obligated to protect his city. you understood. and you supported him in everything he did. but that was your problem. you supported him and you couldn't stop. you kept trying to justify everything he was doing so you wouldn't leave despite being miserable. despite being so lonely.

you'd have done anything to show him how much he meant to you. how much you'd be willing to sacrifice to save this relationship from the mess that it was becoming. you were trying so hard. you were still trying. but you were tired. and you weren't sure that you had it in you to try anymore.

the strumming stopped after you'd sung the chorus once more and you wiped your face clean of the stray tears that had fallen. you put your guitar down and cleared your throat.

"what'd um...what'd you guys think?" you ask.

"it's beautiful. you're beautiful." karen says, softly petting the back of your head.

foggy opened his mouth to speak when you'd heard the side door to the apartment open and close. matt stood there, helmet in hand, a somber look on his face.

"uhh...we'll go. call if you need anything, okay?" foggy says, sitting up and grabbing his things.

he places a comforting kiss on the top of your head, and karen grabs her things, giving you a quick hug before running out the door with foggy.

"are you hurt?" you ask, sitting up from the couch and placing your guitar on the stand.

"no."

you nod, turning around and closing your notebook that was sitting on the coffee table.

"that's good. where's elektra?" you asked. not bothering to look at him as he walked down the stairs.

"i don't know."

you chuckled dryly.

"yes you do. why're you home so early anyways? did you need something?" you asked, placing the kettle on the stove and pulling out the jar of honey lemon tea.

"i just...i missed you. i needed to tell you that i'm sorry." he said, walking up to you.

he stood as close as he could, causing your shoulder to touch his chest. you didn't say anything. you just nodded and cracked your aching fingers.

"can you take off the suit please?" you ask softly.

you were afraid that if he kept it on, it meant he could leave at a moments notice. and you hated that that's what the suit meant to you now. that that's what it stood for. matt nods, heading to the bedroom without saying anything else. you wanted to feel happy. you did. you wanted to be elated that he'd finally come home to you and that he'd said that he missed you, that he was apologizing. but you weren't. you were just tired. you knew he'd leave. you no longer had faith that he was going to stay.

when matt walked out of the bedroom, he wasn't sure what to say to you. he just wanted to hold you and to apologize, profusely he might add. he was so afraid of losing you. but he couldn't blame anyone but himself if he did. he leaned against the counter as you poured the hot water into the cup with the honey lemon tea.

"want some tea?"

"yeah, sure. i'll just have whatever you're having" he nodded.

he didn't even really enjoy honey lemon tea. but it was your favorite, and it reminded him of you, so he wanted to drink it. it was his attempt to feel closer to you in the moment. and he couldn't imagine how you'd been doing these menial things in order to feel closer to him for as long as you did. and it made him feel, for lack of a better term, like shit.

"you don't even like honey lemon tea." you mumbled, and he just shrugged.

"yeah, but-"

"what kind of tea do you want?" you sighed.

"i'm just gonna have what you're having. it's fine." he said softly, giving you a tight smile.

"you don't like honey lemon tea. so what tea do you want?" you ask again.

"it's fine really. i'll just-"

"what do you want, matthew? it's not that hard to tell me what you want! so tell me what you want!" you shouted, a sob escaping your lips.

this was clearly no longer about tea. your breathing was erratic and you leaned against the side of the stove with one hand on the counter, one hand covering your face as you cried.

"you. i want you. i'm sorry." matt says softly as he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm tired, matt. i can't...i can't do thi-"

"don't...don't say it. please." he begged, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"i'm loving a ghost!" you shout, pushing him off of you.

he stumbles backwards, and his throat begins to tighten as he feels you slip out of his grasp. literally and figuratively.

"i'm grieving the loss of someone that's still here! you're alive and we're together but you're not here! you're never here. and you can say that you'll put me first. that you're gonna do better. but you can't. you don't have it in you to stop. you can't do it. and i'm tired."

"i can. i'll stop i swear i-"

"you won't, matt. you love this city. you love being daredevil. and i'm not going to make you choose." you sigh, shaking your head.

"but i love you more" he tries to argue, walking to you, holding your face in his hands as the tears stream down his face.

"i need you." he whimpers, and you reach up, wiping the tears from his face.

the look on his face alone broke your heart. you know he didn't mean to do the things he did. he was getting swept up in things he wasn't prepared for, and it made him less reliable. and you so badly wanted to walk out the door. to grab your things and go. because every part of you knew that he wouldn't be able to put you first. not right now, anyways. but as always, you just couldn't do it. you loved him far too much to just walk away.

you sighed, your body deflating, all of the anger you'd previously harbored leaving you.

"you look tired. come on, let's go lay down." you say softly, gently stroking matt's cheek with your thumb.

the broken boy nods, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, turning around and guiding you both towards the bedroom. he felt the need to cling to you like a scared boy clutches to his mother in a crowded store. he felt as though if he let go of you, you'd somehow disappear. you reached up, grabbing his hand that clutched your shoulders, and you wrapped your arm around his torso. you had such a gentle hold on him, but it was the only thing keeping him together right now.

the fear of losing you was eating him alive. he was always afraid of it. he was so afraid that one day, he'd come home and you wouldn't be there anymore. your things wouldn't be there.

when you reached the bed, matt grabbed your hand, still refusing to let go of you in any way. and you didn't mind. you understood. he'd been abandoned by everyone in his life. and he was afraid you'd be next. as you slid in next to him, you laid between his arms, resting your head on the pillow, facing him. he had a tight grip around your waist, refusing to let you go.

"please don't go. i'm sorry. i promise to try harder to be here. i know this is selfish of me to do but just...please don't go. i can't lose you." matt whimpered as his breath trembled.

a few tears spilled over and you reached over, wiping them away.

"i'm not going anywhere. but i refuse to live like this any longer, matthew. i don't have it in me to try, anymore. i have nothing left to give. and i need you to know that."

he nods frantically.

"i'm sorry, i know, i'm sorry." he whispers, his voice straining.

"hey, i'm here. it's okay. but i need you here from now on, okay? stop disappearing. on me, on foggy, on karen. i'm serious, matt. i'm tired of going to bed alone and waking up alone. i'm tired of eating dinner alone. i'm tired of it. your clothes stopped smelling like you. i hate your favorite song now. i've read your favorite book about 9 times now. there's no more fragments of you to cling to."

matt lets out a shaky breath and nods.

"i'll be here."

you leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"i love you, matthew murdock."

"i love you. i love you so much, y/n."

you two had fallen asleep facing each other, noses touching, clinging to each other like otters asleep at sea.

and when you'd woken up the next morning, you'd turned around, and there he was, still sound asleep, here. next to you.

[letarasstuff]

Doesn't she love me anymore?

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it as much as I do!

Summary: Spencer's daughter starts to question why her mother left the small family early on

Warnings: Mentions/undertones of bullying, an absent parent and descreptions of the concequences for the child, So. Much. Angsty. Feelings.

Wordcount: 2.5k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________

“Daddy?” Spencer turns around from the frying pan to look at his daughter. Against common belief, he is quite the cook. But this only started when he became a father, after he realized a child won’t be able to live off of a diet consisting of coffee and anxiety, just like he did at the time. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

She looks down to the piece of paper on the kitchen counter in front of her. “Why did Mommy leave us?”

The spatula falls to the ground. It’s a question the father did not expect on a Tuesday morning before school. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? She saw me the first time and didn’t want me anymore. It’s my fault Mommy left us, left you, just like Linda said.” Tears begin to stream down her face.

“No no no”, her father is quick to turn off the heat and walks around the island to hug his daughter. “None of this is your fault. I don’t know what this Linda said, but it is not true. Your mother had her own reasons to stay out of our lives, but it has nothing to do with you.”

This doesn’t calm her down. “What are her reasons? Why did she leave us? Why did leave me?” Frantically she tries to keep her sobs down in order to speak. Spencer never has seen her this upset.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you are in the right state to talk about it now? Why don’t we calm down and get something for breakfast on our way to school and talk about it after I pick you up this afternoon?” He suggests, hoping the thought of a cup of hot chocolate from their favorite bakery would help her.

(Y/N) looks up at him with bloodshot and glassy eyes. Snot runs down from her nose. Spencer is quick to get her a tissue and make her blow into it, cringing internally about all those germs. “Do you promise to tell me more after school?” Big eyes look up at him and the father hurts. It hurts him, because there are so many things in her future that will break her and all that because of her mother. He can’t shield her from all of it, as much as he wants to he isn’t able. Because there always will be people, people like this Linda, who will make the girl conscious of her absent mother.

“I promise”, he tells her and holds his little finger out for her. (Y/N) smiles while linking hers with his, knowing her father will keep this promise just like any other of his. “Good, and now pack up we got a bakery to visit!” Quickly the girl grabs the piece of paper in front of her only to shove it into her backpack.

A little later she sits at her desk and looks at her teacher expectantly, just like her fellow classmates. “Ok children, today we won’t work further on our addition and subtraction worksheets-” The teacher’s sentence is cut short by the eruption of cheerful shouts. Just (Y/N) looks at the multiplication sheet in front of her.

The teacher is quick to quiet the class again. “Instead we will continue our work on the mother’s card you started doing yesterday. Linda was so kind to tell me that you don’t have the chance to finish them at home, because your moms are there. That is why you do it here and your worksheets at home.”

With a frown on her face (Y/N) pulls out the blank piece of paper that made her feel bad ever since her teacher handed it out to her yesterday. While everybody around her chatters happily with other classmates, she just stares at the paper. It is a reminder of something she doesn’t have, something she lacks and will never get: A real mother. A hug from her mother. Not even the motherly reassurance one gets after a nightmare. Nothing.

“Hey orphan. Ya realizing your mom doesn’t love you and that’s why she left you?” Linda, someone (Y/N) later learns to call a Mean Girl, struts up to the younger one’s desk. A sigh leaves her lips before answering. “You do know for an orphan I need to have neither a mommy nor a daddy. And I do for a fact have a dad, a loving one actually.”

A more light than hard slap on the back of her head makes the girl’s body jolt. “I don’t care, but I know that your mom hates you enough just after looking at you to know she doesn’t want anything to do with you.” After that Linda goes back to her table, leaving (Y/N) feeling more miserable than before.

Some starring on the paper later her teacher passes her table. “Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart? You seem very sad.” That is an obvious fact. Finally the girl is able to lift her gaze. “Miss Ramirez, I don’t know what to do.” This is probably the first time ever she said this sentence in school.

“Mother’s day is in a few days, Sweetie, and this is why we all make these cards. It’s a thank you to your mom and a way to show her how much you love her. You love your mom, don’t you?” The shake of her head shocks the teacher. Immediately an alarming signal rings through her head, because this is a red flag. “Why? Did she do something?”

“Miss Ramirez, I don’t have a mommy. She- she left Daddy and me.” Tears fill (Y/N)’s eyes. Her teacher is quick to hug and sush her. “Oh Sweetie, this is not a bad thing. I’m sure your mom loves you very much, even if she is not there with you. Do you wanna go out for a bit to calm down?” Meanwhile she connects the obvious signs of a single dad in her mind. Missed parent teacher conferences, unnecessary hovering over the child and the tendency to be categorized as a helicopter parent. Yes, Dr. Reid ticks all of those boxes.

It’s the second time of the day that an adult asked (Y/N) to calm down, and frankly it doesn’t really help with the situation at hand. “Can I do my homework outside? It’s too loud in here”, she asks between sniffles. Both of them know that the class’ volume is not the real reason for the request. “Of course, Sweetheart. If you need something, just come in and ask me. Alright?” (Y/N) nods and gets her multiplication sheet and a pencil before leaving the classroom.

At the end of the school day, Spencer is there to pick up his daughter. For days like these, where are no cases, Hotch gave him a free pass on (Y/N)’s very first day at school to leave the office earlier to be able to pick her up himself. As a father and someone who works the same high demanding job as him, he knows that little things like these are often the most important. And even if there were a case today, Spencer would have stayed back. He promised his daughter the truth and this is what he is going to tell her.

“Hey Dr. Reid. Do you have a moment?” Her teacher greets him at the classroom door. Concerned about his child’s wellbeing he nods and follows her back out of the room. “I gave the children the assignment of creating a card for their mothers, because mother’s day is rolling around. Today (Y/N) told me her mother left you, is that right?” This is the moment Spencer connects the dots. This is the kick off that made her question her mother’s motives about leaving all of the sudden.

The young doctor clears his throat. “Uhm yes, that is right. Actually, I’m going to talk to her about it right after school on her demand.” Miss Ramirez nods with an understanding nod. “Thank you for your honesty, Dr. Reid. I also want to warn you, in two days we will hold a celebration in honor of mother’s day with the kids’ mothers. You are invited as a father, because this is a special situation. But I also give (Y/N) a free pass for this event. It can be very traumatic for her.”

The dad thanks her, but his thoughts are somewhere else. He is mad. He is mad for his daughter, because she will always be the one with a “special situation”. The odd one, because yeah, it isn’t uncommon for fathers to leave (which isn’t anything less sad and traumatic), but an absent mother hits differently.

But Spencer is also hurt. Hurt, because for her young age, there is already the word “traumatic” thrown around. No, it isn’t enough that her dad works a job with the risk of him not coming home from a case again, or being the target of an enemy. No, she also has to go through the experience of missing a parent, never knowing how her life would be if it wasn’t for someone like her mother.

Even with Spencer trying to fill that role, there will be a time where (Y/N) will ask herself all of the “what ifs”. He can’t stop it from happening, and that is his biggest pain right there. Because he can’t shield her from her own thoughts. At the age of six she already is a bright, brilliant and talented mind. Now in a few years or maybe just months, she will start to think about her mother being the root of her pain, bad experiences and hurt. Her thoughts will lead to a downward spiral of how a person can do something like her mother, who acted like that with the knowledge of which consequences will follow. And Spencer can’t stop this from happening.

“Daddy!” A small thud comes from (Y/N) colliding with his leg. Just by the way she squeezes it he knows that she hasn’t had a good day at school. “Hey Baby. Do you want to go to the office for a bit? I think your Auntie Penelope told me something about a new science set she got for you. Or do you want to go straight home?” Spencer asks after lifting her into his arms. Immediately she hides her face into the crook of his neck. “Home”, she murmurs. Home it is then.

“Aaaaaand here comes the little missy’s hot chocolate!” The father says in a funny voice while carefully putting the cup into his daughter’s hands. She sits covered in a blanket on the sofa, looking expectantly at her father.

Spencer sighs at the lack of reaction. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” (Y/N) nods adamantly. “Ok, but I got to go a bit back for this story

“It was about eight years ago, I worked on a case with your Aunties and Uncles back then. I was the one who had to get the last round of coffee for the night at a small 24/7 diner. As I walked in I thought I died, because I was sure an angel stood right in front of me. Well not-” “Is that Mommy?!” (Y/N) cuts him off excitedly. Spencer smiles slightly. “You need to listen to the story!” The girl shifts in her seat. “Right, sorry.”

As I was saying: well in front, because she sat at the bar waiting for her order. I nervously ordered the coffees and had to begin three times, because I kept messing up, mesmerized by her sole atmosphere. As the waiter went to put the coffee pot on, the woman turned towards me and introduced herself. After that she asked me what I was doing late at night in a small town like that and we somehow forgot everything around us by just talking. After that we stayed in touch. Six months later we became a couple, she moved to DC in order for me to still be able to do my job here.

“Two years later your Mom got pregnant with you, and it was quite a surprise to us. But we felt ready at that time and so she moved in with me and we had you. The first few months were great, we couldn’t be happier. BUt then you continuously became ill. At first just a cold, then the pocks and so on. I think it was the third night in a row where you held us up all night. I took a year off from work to care for you with your Mom. I carried you through our apartment the whole night, giving you a bottle, singing, reading, doing anything.

“Then I saw her standing in the doorway. Even though there was baby vomit on her sweatpants and I had never seen her eye bags being this dark, she was the most beautiful woman to me. I approached her with a smile, but her frown only deepened. I thought it was because she worried about you and your health. Instead she told me she can’t do it. She can’t be a mother, that she wasn’t cut for this job.” Her exact words still resonate in Spencer’s ears to this day. He knows exactly what she said, word for word, and they never stopped to sting any less.

“So Mommy left us because I was too much trouble?” (Y/N)’s voice sounds even sadder than before. “No, it never was because of you. She knew exactly what it meant to have a child. Your mother knew what kind of work it takes and what the future brought. You have absolutely nothing to do with it. Some people are just not made to be parents and it’s better when they realize it themselves and leave the situation.”

(Y/N) nods, her mind running wild. All of that makes plenty of sense but at the same time not. “Sweetheart, that doesn’t change the fact that I love you and I will never leave you. You are my everything and I’m so happy to be a dad to such a wonderful little girl like you. I want you to remember that your Mom may not be here with us, but she still loves you. And I’m here for you, for anything you need, want or don’t want. Do you understand me?”

She nods again and curls up into her father’s lap. “Can we watch something?” She asks after a bit of silence, where both of them indulged their own thoughts. Quickly the TV turned on and some kids movie plays. The rest of the day the small family spends all the time cuddled on the couch, because at the moment they need to feel the other there with them.

The next two days Spencer calls (Y/N) in sick at school and himself at work, because together they fly to Vegas. Just because her own mother wasn’t ready for the job, doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate the work her grandmother did as a mother. That and you never know how much time you have left with the people who are dear to you.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (arranged marriage Au)

Part 1 is here, finally! Title a reference to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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Vesemir’s slap hit Geralt firmly on the back of the head. Two seconds previously Geralt had been complaining about his upcoming, politically motivated marriage to some nobleman’s son. 

“It’s a good thing, lad. Other witcher schools would kill for something like this,” he said. Geralt knew it was right, legal punishment for those who shortchanged or attacked witchers. It set a precedent, and apparently the earl was very influential. It could change things.

“And there isn’t a fidelity clause,” Eskel said. “It doesn’t have to be more than a sort of partnership.”

“No consummation requirement either,” sniggered Lambert from the other side of the campfire. “You don’t even have to fuck the bugger if he’s ugly.” This earned him a sharp elbow from Eskel. 

“What I don’t understand is what they get out of this,” Geralt said. It had been bugging him. 

“Ah,” Vesemir said, looking uneasy. “It seems that the payment is...taking the viscount off of the Earl’s hands, officially. It seems he’s something of an embarrassment.”

The unease in Vesemir’s voice was subtle, but after so many decades with their teacher, the wolves of Kaer Morhen knew the slight variations of tone and expression. His discomfort was twofold, first, the obvious implication that the Earl was sending his son to live a dangerous life alongside a witcher in order to...deal with him. A death sentence, from father to son. The second was that Geralt, already saddled with a political marriage, was also to be saddled with a nuisance of a husband. 

“But why me?” Geralt knew he was whining like a child, but he couldn’t help it. It was three days to Lettenhove, and then they’d be there at least a week for the wedding and he’d have to act courtly. 

He wasn’t good at courtly.

When he thought about it none of them were. 

“It couldn’t have been me,” Eskel said, a little shyly. He was right. Eskel believed his scars were horrible, made him unlovable and undesirable. Geralt didn’t buy it, but nobles could get a bit stroppy about appearances. And if they humiliated Eskel because of his scarring...no, Geralt wouldn’t let that happen.

“Couldn’t have been me,” Lambert said, mouth full and rather cheerfully. No. It couldn’t have been him either, no manners and no filter, they’d be at war with the entirety of Lettenhove within a day.

“And I’m an old man,” Vesemir said. He didn’t actually wink, but he might as well have. Older though he was, he was still three times the warrior of any young human man walking about these days. But from what Geralt had heard, and it hadn’t been much, the Viscount was young, not quite twenty, and it wouldn’t be kind to marry him to someone so much older than himself. Geralt reflected grimly that he was nearly four times the youth’s age.

Three days of riding passed far too quickly for Geralt’s liking.

Chateau de Lettenhove loomed. It was a fairytale castle built by a man expecting a siege. There were high, rising towers with huge windows and artful buttresses, but to the trained eye of the witchers, it was a fortress. The towers had carved, decorative arrow slits, the windows all had iron grates over them, wrought like lace, and the buttresses could be easily used as defensive positions. All in all, it was a castle that growled, albeit genteelly.

They were greeted first by a footman, and then a line of servants increasing in rank, until a very snobby servant, likely the head housekeeper from the way all the maids scuttled away from her, brought them to an anteroom. At this point courtesy dictated that she bade them sit down on one of the lavish sofas. She did not. She chose instead to turn up her nose and sweep away.

The four witchers remained standing, not looking at one another. Geralt could feel Lambert stewing about the obvious slight beside him. He reached out, still staring straight ahead, and tweaked Lambert’s ear. 

This was about to result in much brotherly retribution and probably a brawl when the housekeeper returned, followed by another woman.

“His lordship the Earl of Lettenhove is attending to vital business,” the housekeeper said, tone of voice implying that the arrival of four witchers who were muddying her nice clean floor were certainly not vital. “I present, her ladyship, Countess Amaria Elizaveta de Lettenhove.” 

The countess curtsied, it was a polite little bob, and she smiled a little dazedly as the witchers all gave their best attempt at courtly bows. A small but significant part of Geralt’s brain was panicking, and it dealt with this new form of terror by imagining that the school of the wolf, seen from the outside plying their newly practiced bows, must look like a line of seagulls vying for a dropped crumb.

Vesemir stepped forward and, in a rather more suave gesture than Geralt had been expecting, took the Countess’ hand and bowed over it. Two bows seemed excessive to Geralt, but since it seemed to indicate that Vesemir would be taking over the speaking for now, he certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. 

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Vesemir said, straightening and releasing her hand. “May I introduce the school of the wolf. Eskel is--”

The countess had waved a limp hand. “Plenty of time for that at the feast, deary,” she said, smiling dreamily. There was something in her eyes that was a little absent, possibly more than a little if her calling Vesemir ‘deary’ was anything to go by. Geralt looked the countess over. He had been given to understand through the brief letters from the Lettenhove estate, that this wasn’t the viscount-Julian, the letters said-’s mother, but rather his step mother. She was a petite lady with mousy hair and rather absent blue eyes. Her dress was obviously of very fine material, rose pink and probably silk, although Lambert would know better than him, but a simpler cut than Geralt had expected. 

His examination, done in a split second, decided that she wasn’t an immediate enemy, but probably not a terrible useful ally. 

“I’m to give you this courting gift,” here she proffered a small but beautifully carved wooden box. “And to show you to your quarters.” She smiled again, and it was warm, but still vapid.

“Custom usually dictates that the fiancé give the courting gift,” Vesemir said, cautiously taking the box.”

“My husband wanted someone else to present it,” she said. “But your grandson can give his gift in person when he meets Julian. Now what...” she trailed off, not even noticing Vesemir’s slight sputter at grandson. “Ah yes, your rooms, right this way please.”

She got lost on the way to their rooms and a shaking footman showed them up to a suite, then kindly took her by the hand and led her away.

They sat, silent, in the nice but not lavish quarters. Four beds in curtained alcoves off to the side, and in the middle a room with a table and chairs, and a sofa and more comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace. It was already blazing and the witchers stared into it for a minute.

“That was strange,” Eskel finally said, and the others just nodded.

“Should I have insisted on giving her our courting gift?” Geralt said after another pause. “I thought they were usually given in person.”

“I think you’re fine,” Vesemir said. “If they broke that tradition they can hardly fault you for doing the same.”

Lambert, sprawled across the sofa, said, “When’s dinner?”

“I think I’m supposed to meet Julian first,” Geralt said. “Someone will probably come get us. 

“When we meet Julian you mean,” Lambert said, sitting up. 

“No, I’ve been thinking about that and I want to meet him alone.”

Vesemir nodded, “Sensible, we don’t know how he will react to one witcher, let alone four.” Then he smirked, although not unkindly, at Lambert. “You will be introduced and have a chance to be nosy later. At dinner perhaps.”

They unpacked their belongings, potion bottles and swords looking out of place along the old but nicely carved furniture. After days of tension on the road as Geralt wound himself tighter and tighter with anxiety for his...wedding, yes his wedding, now this pause was jarring. Eskel tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a look.

Geralt turned around to give Eskel room to work.

On the Path, witchers are rarely, if ever touched. Certainly not in a friendly way if the other isn’t being compensated. It wasn’t therefore, unusual for the wolves of Kaer Morhen to be tactile with one another. Not hugging and cuddling sweetly, but rough housing and wrestling ending in exhausted dog piles. But Eskel had a gift, he had magic hands, literally and figuratively, and he carefully oiled his hands while Geralt took off his travel stained shirt. 

Geralt sunk into himself, half meditating as Eskel dragged the tension from his shoulders and beat the knots from his muscles. It wasn’t a relaxing massage, but it always left him feeling like liquid, if slightly bruised. When it was over and the liquid feeling had left him, or at least subsided enough that his knees could hold him, he stood, clapping Eskel on the shoulder in thanks.

Then came the hard bit.

Geralt needed to be courtly. He scrubbed the bits he could with water and a cloth from a little washstand, but he hoped he could have a hot bath later. Afterwards Vesemir advanced on him and battled the dirt from underneath his fingernails with a stiff brush before attacking his hair with a comb. Geralt sat on the ground like a child, his brothers looking on in amusement as Vesemir sat behind him on the couch and teased the tangles from his hair. He was making faces, he knew, but Vesemir wasn’t gentle, and he hadn’t detangled his hair in some time.

Scrubbed raw, with his hair floating around his shoulders like a silver cloud, Lambert presented him with a doublet. 

It was black, which was good.

That was the only good thing about it. It was most likely a very nice, extremely fashionable doublet. Lambert might take delight in embarrassing Geralt, but he didn’t mess about with clothing. The issue was that it was attention grabbing, it was subtle in a way that seemed to play itself down while actually drawing every eye. It was black, in the same way a raven’s wing was black, every shimmering shade shifting as the fabric moved.

And he would be wearing it. 

He did wear it. 

His hands shook as he buttoned it up. 

He was just examining himself in a slightly tarnished hand mirror when there was a sharp knock at the door. The footman let himself in right after and bowed swiftly. 

“I am to escort the witchers of Kaer Morhen to meet Lord Julian.”

“Just the one witcher,” Geralt said. Vesemir pressed his courting gift, and the little carved boxed nestled on top, into his arms.

The footman didn’t seem to care and simply turned away, leading Geralt through hallways that all looked the same and down two very winding staicases, the second of which was so narrow his shoulders actually brushed the walls. They stopped outside a plain wooden door. The footman bowed and smiled. It looked, Geralt couldn’t help but feel, rather cruel. Then he left. Geralt knocked softly on the door, feeling very large in the narrow, low ceilinged hallway.

Eskel had told him once of a myth he had read, about a beast, half man half bull, hidden away in a maze. Geralt felt like such a beast, too large and rough and probably going to barge in and do everything wrong.

“Come in.” 

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door. 

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Oooh I’m naughty for leaving it there, but it’s almost 2000 words already. @llamasdumpsterfire here it is at last, I hope it lives up to expectations.

[just-come-baek]

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au 

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

Warnings: a moderate amount of fluff | Johnny flirting with everybody in plain sight | Johnny stalks people out on social media | cursing | Doyoung being a huge dick | Doyoung flexing his hips | reader has inappropriate thoughts about Taeil | Taeyong being very demanding dance teacher | stressfull situations | drinking | reader is kind of bratty and Taeyong finds it really frustrating | frustrated/angry making out | as per smut | oral!female receiving | unprotected sex (never try it at home or else Imma tell your parents) | they kinda fuck in the open and kinda check our their refection in the mirror |

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

 ***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

 ***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

 ***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

 ***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

 ***

 On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

 ***

 The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor.  The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

 ***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

[clarissalance]

Wolves

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!Reader, Diluc, Crepus

Warning: minor swearing, cheesy flirt, dry humour

Summary: All men are wolves.

A/N: Muahaha I have came back and brought you the blatant cheesy flirt. Welcome to the first lesson of flirting with Kaeya. Lol, guess who is coming next? 

Also, I’m planning to write a wind-trace fic because the game is so fun. (p/s: I waste 3 hours playing it) Guess who is in it? 

Okay, the first fic for my lover boy. Please give Kaeya a lot of love!! (*￣3￣)╭ 

Another beautiful day, another day of wasting the lovely weather to stay inside the study room, bury your head into the pile of books next to you. You let your eyes wander to the window again, gazing rays of light fleeting through the window, golden hues on the wooden floor. Tiny specks of dust accumulate overnight, fluttering around the curtain. Outside, the chirping birds bathing under the sun, casually chilling on the window. Oh, how you wish you would be able to relax like those carefree animals.  

“You might burn the birds crips the longer you stare at it.” Startled by the quiet voice, your head snaps toward the blue-haired teenage direction, and you can’t help but scowl at his statement. You can’t be the only person in the room who wants to go out and play. Knowing Kaeya, he’s definitely trying to find an excuse to end the class early. 

The only person who is diligent, hard-working, and does not have thought about leaving this room is the young master Diluc. The young man is sitting opposite you, eyes burning holes on the thick textbook. 

Archon, how can a 16 years old overly enthusiastic person like him enjoy the excitement of reading Descartes philosophy? Maybe he is the only child in Mondstadt, no, maybe in the whole Teyvat who enjoys something torturous like that. Shivering at your own thought, you shift your chair closer to Kaeya, giving Diluc a terror gaze.      

“Aren’t you going to finish the essay?” Pointing at the half-full parchment on the table, you ask. “ Diluc and I already finish it.” 

“ Oh, how do I know? How am I suppose to understand Kant and Descartes theories, and then link them to deductive and inductive reasoning?"  Kaeya lets his finger running through the silky blue hair and pulls them out of frustration. On the other side, Diluc shoots him a glare, annoyed by his brother complaint. 

 “How did you guys do it?” Kaeya asks boredly, his finger pokes the quill. 

You put your hand under your chin, beaming him charmingly.  “ You know Kaeya, it is something I call improvisation. Words just flow out of my tip.” Under your lashes, you can see his cheek dusting pink. Cute! 

“ Just read the books, and you will get it.” Diluc unhelpful adds. 

Both of you stare at red-head incredulously. Is he being serious? 

Like always, Kaeya knows he can not take your advice to heart. One is a genius, and the other is just pure luck.  

Suddenly, the door is burst open, and you quickly shove your feet into the shoes, eyes darting to see the intruder. Internally, you hope that person is not lady Elizabeth, your etiquette teacher. Your blood runs cold at the thought. You can already imagine her sharp tones commenting how horrendous and un-ladylike your act is. 

“How is your study going?” A deep, strong voice booming from the back, and finally, you get let out a breath. Diluc looks up from his book, beams brightly at the man. 

“ We are done with homework, father. These are just extra reading.” Well, for the record, these are his extra readings, not yours. And Kaeya hasn’t finished his 2 feet scrolls of essay yet. 

Master Crepus nods in satisfaction. “ If that is finished, you kids can take a break. The young lady from the Gunnhildr family is here with her father. Maybe you can give her some accompanies.”  The middle-aged man directs the words at you, maybe feeling guilty for leaving a young lady like you in his two sons care. 

Your parents left you in the Ragnvindr care every Summer because of their hectic schedules and frequent business trips at this time of the year. In addition, your mother says it is essential for you to have good relationships with the heir of Ragnvindr and his brother. “Maybe you will need their help someday.” She left it vaguely. 

“ Are you guys going to drink again?” Kaeya suspiciously questions, his eyes glinting with playfulness. 

“ Hey, what’s wrong with men having a drink together?” Crepus defensively retorts, notices how Diluc gives him a disproving gaze.

“ When you guys grow up, you would enjoy it too.” The three let out opposing noises, clearly not having the same idea as him. The man waves dismissively return back the topic. 

“ Let’s come down to greet the head of Gunnhildr first.” He heads toward the door, down the hallway.   

“And be nice to the young lady, boys.” The master emphasizes the phrase, his eyes pinning at the guilty-looking Kaeya and the absent-minded Diluc. Finally, he exits the room, not forgetting to close the door. 

“ Father says as if we don’t treat people nicely.” Kaeya pouts, right after Crepus footstep drifting away from the study. “ The workers never complain anything about our behaviours, right Luc?” 

Sitting next to him, you can't help but let out a snort. He dares to say that? Kaeya raises eyebrows at you, annoyed by your shaking shoulder. The boy in red has a blank face, maybe not interested. 

“ First, you guys ignore me for 2 weeks when I just came here.” You burst out in laughter, recalling back at the very first memory when you just arrived here.

“When I tried to approach, you both avoided me like the plague.” Your whole body is shaking vigorously, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. This is too hilarious! Somewhere in between, you can spot Diluc burning cheek. 

“ Haha, and haha-later,” You can hardly breath, laughter bubbling up. “Adeline told me your reason is ‘It's b-because she doesn’t have a willie.' ” Dramatically air-quoting, you even imitate their stuttering childish voices. This earns you a pointed glare from Diluc and a smack in the arm from Kaeya, but a good laugh is always worth it. 

Both of them freeze on their tracks, faces puff red as tomatoes, steaming almost coming off their ears. If the young heir is to wear a red suit, you are sure he can blend in well with the mansion roof. 

Diluc shifts stiffly in his chair and abruptly stands up, heading toward the exit. Maybe he is too embarrassed at the mention of his dark childhood. 

“Where-haha, are you going, Luc?” You are still in the middle of your giggling, noticing how Diluc is dashing to the door. Letting out a coughing fit, he quietly mumbles. 

 “ I'm going down to greet the Gunnhildr family.” His figure vanishes right behind the door, not letting you tease him further. Outside, the painful sound of Diluc tripping on his own feet make you almost fall off your chair. You have too many good laughs today. 

“Right, I-I should get going too.” Next to you, the blazing Kaeya remembers to dig a hole and hide. His hand slams hard on the table and the youthful teenager stands up, gracefully heading toward the door. Maybe he wants to avoid becoming another joke.  

" Ah, wait-" You follow instantly, but the moment you stand up, something slips, and the next thing you know, the ground is shaking, and you see the ceiling is getting further. 

Your first instinct is to grab the closest object, and then close your eyes, waiting for the painful impact with your head. Clench your jaw tightly, and you hold your breath, hoping it will hurt less if you tense your body. 

Right after tensing up, you feel someone just grab you by your shoulder, and your feet step on something bumpy. And then, your head makes an impact with something hard. A grunting is followed. 

Heart hammering in your chest, you cautiously peek, expecting yourself to see the ceiling, but instead, greet with an unusual sight. A pair of dark colour trouser paired with leather shoes. On top of it is your feet, loosely wore low heel is stepping on that leather shoes. Shit, you stepped on Kaeya. In a panic, you rush down from his painful sore feet, but your head jams in his ribs. He just let out another woeful sound.   

This time, you carefully keep your position in place, slowly remove each foot one by one, moving away from him. Craning your neck upward, you finally meet his gaze, his eyes are full of concern and uneasiness, spooked out by your sudden incident.

 “Did you hit your head hard?” Kaeya asks you nervously, his voice laced with anxiety. He must have been terrified when you slip. You shake your head, hands grabbing his shirt.

" I should be asking you that. Are you okay?" You give him a worrying gaze, your fingers running along his ribs, checking if your stone head broke anything. " I didn't break anything, right?" Hesitantly, you look into his deep blue eyes, noticing the diamond shape. Has he always has this in his eyes? 

Kaeya snorts inelegantly, shakes his head. " Your head is hard as a rock, but that much can't break my ribs yet." This earns him a hit on his arm. 

"Hey! I'm trying to be considerate, and this is how you treat me?" You jab him, hand purposely smack his chest, but he doesn't budge an inch. How strong is this guy? This time, you put all the force on your arm, slapping hard on his chest again. The young man in the blues shoot you a shit-eating grin, clearly not faze.  

 "How is my chest feeling?" He pokes, his palm engulfing yours. 

" Too hard for my liking." You give him a complex look, trying to escape from his tight grip but fail miserably. You wiggle your hand again, shaking off his iron clad. Why is he so strong? 

While you are attempting to flee from his firm grasp, the young man leans down, face an inch away from you. Flushing at the sudden closure, like usual,  you avoid his burning gaze. You hold your breath when your noses almost touch. What is this rascal doing again? 

" You shouldn't be touching men like that." Kaeya opens his mouth, saying something completely out of nowhere. You tilt your head in confusion, while your eyes travel down, you notice your hands still on his chest. O-oh, so he is saying about this. 

" I  don't normally touch random people." You mumble defensively, your eyes lower. " I was checking for your injury."

"They will misunderstand." Kaeya cuts in right after, not accepting the excuse. But why would they misunderstand? You are just being nice, right? 

Like he can understand what is going inside your mind, Kaeya reminds you.

"All men are wolves, you should be more be careful with them."   

You give him a confusing look. 

Kaeya is not one of them, right? 

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and moves back, allowing you to savour your personal space. Just right after your throbbing heart finally calms down, he brings your tight-griped hand in his to his face. Your meet with his alluring look in his eyes. It is pulling you in, telling you to give in the temptation. Plump lips brush your knuckle teasingly, he blows a warm breath on the back of your hand. He gives you a saccharine smile.

" And if not be careful." His husky voice ringing in your ears, the numbing spark runs along your spine. "They might devour you." 

[spooky-z]

Leaving the Mask Behind

Warning:

This story contains language, OOC, Asian bamfs and moral ambiguity.

Maribat by @ozmav​

9.3K

Translations for this story:

妹妹 (mèi mei) – young sister

姉貴 (aneki) – older sister

anh - elder brother / em – younger brother

混蛋 (hún dàn) – bastard

やりまん (yariman) – slu*

女武芸者 (onna-bugeisha) – female martial artist

瓢虫 (piáo chóng) – ladybug

竜 (ryū) – dragon

con khỉ - monkey

大人 (dàrén) - used for an official or a person in authority

meaning "chief" or "leader" -  رئیس (raʾīs)

さま(sama) – respectful to higher rank person

悪 霊(akuryoo) – demon / biblical type

▫▪▪

"I don't believe that... That... Ugh!" Marinette screamed angrily at the walls of her room.

It had been almost twenty minutes since she had been walking back and forth grunting in anger and cursing Lila Rossi's existence. Marinette couldn't believe the audacity of that freaking Italian! She really did that.

“妹妹(mèi mei)! What happened this time?” Kagami invaded the nervous girl's room, without bothering to knock on the hatch door, after all, Kagami Tsurugi was part of the family.

"She did it again, 姉 貴(aneki)!" Marinette replied, throwing a paper ball into Kagami's hands. “That 混蛋(hún dàn)! If I get my hands on that Italian, I'll kill her!”

Ignoring Marinette's outbreak in the background, Kagami carefully stretched the paper, trying not to tear it. She thought it was just another bad joke that Lila had made again; like the one from the previous week, where she wrote a letter all in Italian offending Marinette and lying to the class saying it was a letter praising the girl.

Of course, not even in a million years, she expected to find the "ULTIMATE WARRIOR" in thick letters, painted in red and gold on top of the paper. Much less the words “SELECTED” and the names of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami Tsurugi and Lê Chiến Kim.

Kagami had to read and reread what was written on the paper because she was too stunned by what she was seeing. She couldn't believe that Lila had the courage to enroll them in a combat competition program.

Even more because it was no secret that the program was the extreme of the extreme. Kagami still remembered a competitor who had to be forcibly removed from the competition, for having left three teams - nine people - disabled beyond measure; one of the victims had almost lost his leg movements because he was hit hard by the guy's blade.

For God's sake! Competitors had to sign documents exempting the program from any liability in the event of a fatality.

And Lila signed them up for it. Even though she knew everything, she signed them up because she wanted to see them suffer.

“That や り ま ん(yariman)!” Kagami spat, crumpling the paper again and throwing it to the floor in anger. "Let me get my 短刀(tantō) and we can cut her throat without having to get our hands dirty with her rotten blood."

Marinette sighed in devastation.

"I knew that defending Chloe from Lila's lies would have consequences, but that?" She pointed to the paper ball on the floor. "This is sadism."

Kagami sat on the chaise, pulling the girl with her. She was still simmering with anger, but remembered that she was the oldest there, by a year, but older. So Kagami had to show maturity and comfort her younger sister.

"What she’s doing- what did she did... This is no longer about revenge, mèi mei." Kagami put her arm around the girl's shoulders in comfort. “She's doing it all just to hurt you. Even if you didn't defend Chloe, Lila would find another way to attack you.”

Marinette dropped her head on Kagami's shoulder, tired of it. Tired of Lila Rossi.

“If it were just me, that's would be fine. I would accept it because it wouldn't make a difference to me, but it involved you and anh.”

Kagami laughed. The truth and certainty in Marinette's words made her happy. Knowing that she had a person beside her like Marinette - and Kim - was a gift that she would never be able to pay her parents.

"But at least it's me and em." She answered. "Have you ever thought if she put Chloe and that girl- Rose?"

Marinette snorted, imagining that. "That would have been a colossal disaster."

The two sat on the chaise in a comfortable silence. It was normal, when the two were without Kim, for silence to be part of their day. Both Kagami and Marinette expressed their feelings better through actions.

They were both sitting for a few minutes when the sound of doors slamming and heavy footsteps running downstairs caught their attention. Both recognizing the rhino that was tap dancing around Marinette's house.

It wasn't long before a very smiling Kim's head appeared in the open hatch.

He paced the room in a familiar comfort. Kim practically lived there.

"Mèi mei, aneki!" He said excitedly. "Why do you two looks like death?"

Kagami pointed the paper ball to the floor. "Read."

The boy frowned at Kagami's tone. She hardly spoke like that when it was just the three of them, keeping her cold behavior only to people outside the family.

He picked up the crumpled paper and stretched it without care, his eyes skimming over the written words.

Kim looked up at them. His expression was unreadable.

"You who signed us up, mèi mei?"

Marinette snorted insulted, and pulled her head away from Kagami's shoulder.

“Of course not, anh. This is the work of our dear and beloved, Lila Rossi."

'Hm' came from him. The eyes going back to the paper, analytical. Probably thinking about something that Marinette and Kagami hadn't thought of yet, as they were both too angry for that.

Many believed that Kim was a silly boy. Obviously, he made a point of acting like the jester with his classmates and in a way, he was, but no one but the family knew about the real Kim.

The smart, cold, strategist and merciless Kim. Of the three, Kim was the most likely to participate in a carnage and still make it look like a trip to the mall.

"I think we should accept this opportunity, 灌(Guàn)." He said clinical.

Kagami shuddered in surprise at the boy's words. Marinette beside the girl, had the same reaction. Of the three there, Kim was the most heavily camouflaged, so for him to suggest that meant...

"... You don't intend to pretend anymore." Marinette said Kagami's thoughts aloud.

The boy sighed, looking older and more tired. The paper was still firm in his hand.

"Technically, we are not pretending, just... not being completely sincere." He pointed. "But yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.”

"But Kim-Giáp, you know that as soon as we are 'sincere', things will change." Kagami said, hope growing in her heart. She hated having to put on a mask to leave home and interact with people. "There will be no turning back."

“There is nothing else for us here. Guàn has been suffering to remain civilized in order not to attract the attention of her parents, I am tired of having to make a fool of myself for those idiots and you, Kagami, also do not like having to put on the ‘girl without friends’ mask, to keep the peace." He sat down heavily next to Marinette. "Mars, if you agree, I want to do this."

Marinette stared at the floor, lost in thought.

Kim was right, of course. None of the three could take it until they were eighteen or finished the lycée to get rid of their classmates, Bustier or Lila. But Marinette also feared, because of the three, she was the person who would have the most changes in life.

After all, the agreement was that as soon as she decided to become Cheng's head, the engagement- her engagement, would be understood as accepted. And maybe Marinette was still a little afraid to leave the comfort, because she didn't know who her promised husband was.

But then she thought about the hell that Dupont was being and how just changing schools would not solve the problems of the three. They were suffocating being something they were not.

She lifted her head and looked at the boy.

"So, you better say goodbye to that blond hair." And smiled. Kagami practically vibrated with joy beside her.

Kim rolled his eyes before shoving her with his shoulder.

"At least I won't be forced to see those awful pig tails anymore."

"HEY!"

"He's right."

“Aneki!”

Now they just needed to finish enrolling for the program, let families know about the change in plans and what the expected consequences are.

They only had a month to settle everything and compete in the program.

▫▪▪

For a month the trio did not appear in Dupont.

In the first week, Lila was easily the first to notice the lack of a certain girl in the classroom, internally congratulating herself for breaking another one.

Next were Max and Alix, believing that Kim was sick. They went to the boy's house only to come across a “property for sale” sign. Needless to say, they came back to school confused and sad.

The third person to notice was surprisingly, Chloe Bourgeois. The girl only realized that Dupain-Cheng and Lê Chiến were missing when Lila started spreading lies about her and Marinette was not there to act as guardian of morals.

Nino and Sabrina noticed at the same time, but neither of them paid much attention because they knew the duo and knew that sporadically, Marinette and Kim (and Kagami) would disappear for a while and then return as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the class noticed at the same time as Bustier. One Wednesday, in the middle of the third week absent, the teacher entered the classroom with heavy eyes and hunched shoulders. The word "transferred" and the names "Marinette, Kim" were all they got before Alix became a berserker.

Alya didn't even blink at the announcement. Glad that Lila was safe now that her mother managed to get rid of her daughter's bullies.

Adrien failed to maintain the perfect model expression. When he arrived at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, he was greeted with employees never seen before. No sign of Marinette or her parents.

He also realized that Kagami was strangely absent from fencing classes and that the calls went directly to voicemail. The blood ran cold in his veins.

▫▪▪

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, on a strangely sunny Monday in Gotham; a letter with a thick envelope and sealed with a ladybug coat of arms arrived at Wayne Mansion.

They were all together for breakfast when Alfred, the butler, handed the red, black wax-sealed envelope to Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne's youngest son.

His father, his brothers and his almost brothers, curious about the unusual situation.

When he opened the letter and realized its contents, a deformed smile took over the face that until then, was always frowning.

Everyone was able to hear the ‘Finally’ coming from the boy, before he disappeared upstairs without exchanging a word with the family.

“Damian Al Ghul Wayne, we would like to announce that Cheng Guàn will finally be taking over the Cheng head next month. She accepted her role as head of the family and will be announcing through her participation in Ultimate Warrior, accompanied by the heads of Tsurugi and Lê.

We would like to challenge you one last time, as a demonstration that Cheng Guàn is more than able to walk and fight alongside you.

Best regards,

Cheng Hua.”

Not very traditional, but it would do.

As he read the program rules, the only thought in the boy's mind was that he and his brothers were going to have a lot of fun ending up with anyone who wasn't even minimally decent.

▫▪▪

Marinette was just finishing tying the laces on her boot when Kim fully armored came in with the phone to the ear.

While he was finishing talking to what was probably his ‘war assistant’ - if the Vietnamese indicated anything - she watched her brother well, now that he wasn’t trying to hide under the jester mask.

Giáp had dyed his hair back to its natural color, removing the blonde once and for all. He preferred not to cut his hair completely, leaving the sides and nape shorter than the top, combed with gel to the side. Like a businessman.

His tactical military suit was identical to that of Kagami and Guàn, only further reinforced in places of impact such as fists and knees. The face had full protection to prevent accidents, only the eyes uncovered, but only because he had taken off his glasses since they were not yet in the field.

He would fight only with fists at first.

Kagami was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, meditating. Her tactical suit was a little more mixed with her kendo suit, since she was wearing her armor over her clothes. The 胴(dō) on her chest, 小 手(kote) on her wrists, 垂 れ(tare) on her waist, and the 面(men) lying comfortably on the floor beside her, along with her twin 刀(katana) with red blades and the 十 文字 槍(jūmonji yari) that she had won for her sixteenth birthday last year.

There was also a cloth mask covering her nose and mouth, and sports glasses over her eyes to keep out dust.

Guàn wore the totally pure military tactical suit. A little more pulled into an anti-riot suit, but not as bulky, because she didn't want to impair her mobility and her mask was a totally black ballistic mask.

On the table in the tiny waiting room - a tent - there were two types of rifles: A Colt M4 and an Arctic Warfare; two Glock and a Revolver with tranquilizer ammunition ready to reload. The five were airsoft guns. In addition to two training Cold Steel. The armament just for her.

It was as soon as Giáp hung up the phone and Kagami opened her eyes, that a staff appeared at the door of their tent warning that the competition would start in five minutes, saying it was time to finish getting ready because they would soon come to pick them up.

The three looked at each other with equally bloody smiles.

▫▪▪

ULTIMATE WARRIOR is a war-type competition program.

With each team consisting of three (3) competitors, they will have to fight against each group in order to redeem the One (1) Million Euro prize. That is, the team must defeat all other teams in order to redeem the prize. Only one team leaves UW undefeated.

The competition takes place once a year and is hosted in ghost towns around the world and recorded live for TV channels. It has no minimum duration, with the maximum reached being 5h.

UW is a very prestigious event; participants are usually military or combatants of some kind.

The minimum age for participation is sixteen (16) and the maximum is thirty (30).

Non-lethal weapons are allowed.

Competitors are eliminated by voluntary withdrawal, if they are knocked out or by serious injuries.

Any type of aggression that results in fatalities or near fatalities is completely prohibited. The punishment for breaking the rule is jail.

▫▪▪

As the UW was something really important worldwide, almost like the Olympics or the World Cup, the day was given as a holiday by all countries in the world; then everyone would sit in front of their televisions and watch the competition cheering for their favorite or those from their country.

In Paris, the city hall set up a screen under the Eiffel Tower and the population came with their families to watch with the rest of the Parisians.

That was no different that year. Mlle. Bustier’s class all together, some accompanied by their parents or siblings and others - like Lila - alone or with their bodyguards - like Adrien -.

They were sitting on the lawn having silly conversations when Mylène's voice caught everyone's attention.

“... Isn't that Adrien's friend? Kagami? I guess." The blonde raised his head to look around, but couldn't find the girl.

"I don't see anyone like her." He replied confused.

"Oh." Rose sighed. “On the screen. It's Kim.”

And everyone turned to see that it was actually Kim, Kagami and Marinette on the screen, being announced as Team B.

"What..." Alix sighed in disbelief.

"... And in team B, we have Lê Chiến Giáp, only 16 years old." The camera focused on who Kim should be - they were not sure, as the person was completely camouflaged in tactical clothing and a mask, and the hair did not appear to be blond -, standing with a broad chest and quite intimidating.

Half the screen was divided, one that filmed Kim and the other with his info and a 3x4 photo of his face.

"He will be the fists of team B. The boy knows how to throw a punch, Will!" One of the narrators continued.

"Yeah, Smith! But have you seen his teammate, Tsurugi Kagami?" The camera started to focus on Kagami, dressed as a Japanese warrior, but also totally unrecognizable. There were two swords stuck in her back - camera showing details of the armor - and in her hand, a trident-like spear. "She is 17 years old!"

Like Kim, there was a 3x4 photo of her with the written info.

“The girl is a real 女 武 芸 者(onna-bugeisha)!” The first narrator, Will, said excitedly.

"But let's not forget about 16-year-old Cheng Guàn!" The footage changed to the third person, fully dressed as a military soldier, a plain black mask that left only her blue eyes uncovered. She, Guàn, had two rifles attached to her back, a Glock attached to each thigh, a Revolver just below the Glock on her right thigh. In addition to a black knife attached to each boot.

The 3x4 photo of Marinette Dupain-Cheng appearing on the screen with the info.

"She'll be the team's sniper!" Smith announced. "This year's contestants..." And they started talking about the rest of the participants, but Mlle. Bustier’s class stopped paying attention.

They were unresponsive.

Or at least almost everyone.

"Wow, I didn't know they were going to participate." Nino commented surprised, but not shocked like the rest of the class. "Did you know that, Chloe?"

The blonde - who for some reason had accompanied them, even without being invited - looked at the boy shaking her head. "No. I was not informed that they would participate. Only that they wouldn't be available for a while.” She sighed. “Did you hear anything, ‘Brina?”

Sabrina looked up from the tablet, shrugging. "Only they'll be back in a week." She replied softly. "Mom has been getting busier and busier, but she told me that soon they would tell us."

Nino nodded, seeming to understand what Sabrina meant and Chloe leaned back in the beach chair she had taken. The conversation dying there.

"Since when are you close to Marinette or Kim?" Ivan asked confused. He never saw any of them minimally close to each other.

"And the ice queen." Alya commented acidly, eyes narrowed on Nino.

"Ah, our parents work for them." Sabrina replied disinterestedly.

"We've known each other since diapers, dude." Nino shook his head.

"What- and why I never heard about it before?” Alix asked with their disregard. "I'm Kim's best friend and he never told me about it."

"Maybe because he didn't want to tell." Chloe murmured, not loud enough for Alix to hear, but loud enough for Adrien and Lila, who were closest to her besides Sabrina and Nino.

Adrien winced at the sharp edge of the words. He didn't like that at all.

Lila, on the other hand, was excited to watch Marinette suffer live for the whole world, but was also a little irritated by the attention she was receiving.

"But I don't understand..." She sighed in delight; they were once again focused on her. “Marinette's parents are just bakers, Kagami's mother is just a fencer and Kim's... What do Kim's parents do? I don't think I've met them before.” She frowned.

She had never seen or heard of Kim's parents.

"Now that you mention it, I also never saw Kim's parents." Max said shocked. "Every time I went to his house, he was alone."

Alya looked back at the atypical trio. Chloe, Nino and Sabrina.

"You are going to tell us right now what is happening!"

Chloe raised her eyebrow, not liking Alya's demanding tone. "Or what, Césaire?"

Alya opened her mouth to reply, but Adrien was faster.

"Nino?"

“My bad, dude. It is not something I am allowed to tell.” The boy shrugged guiltily.

"Yet." Sabrina said out of the blue and everyone looked at the girl waiting for her to elaborate, but she kept quiet.

"-Oh, it's starting." Rose pointed to the screen and the students soon calmed down, their eyes avid on the screen.

▫▪▪

"... 竜(ryū) there are two heading your way." Guàn said in the communicator, her voice muffled by the ballistic mask.

The trained eyes on the street below her, providing cover for Kagami and Giáp to eliminate the other competitors.

"Understood." She heard Kagami respond through the headset. “Con khỉ goes on the right and I on the left. Do any of them have weapons, 瓢虫(piáo chóng)?”

She watched Giáp hide against the stone walls of the hut across the street and Kagami disappear into the hut a little further from where she and Giáp were.

“One unarmed and one with knives. I'm trying to find the third, but no sign of him." She breathed heavily. “Con khỉ the target is fast approaching. Ryū, target at ninety degrees.”

Guàn didn't need to see to know that both Giáp and Kagami had ambushed their targets, but even so, she didn't take her eyes off them.

It was always beautiful to see how gracefully Kagami handled the jūmonji yari or how Giáp did not hesitate to reach the pressure points on the enemy's body, never using too much brute force, only skill and knowledge.

That was why she was almost a little too late to notice the presence in the ruin in which she was hiding. But it was only almost.

The competitor - Team E, she read on the stripe attached to his arm, not much older than her -, didn't have time to react. She was flexible and had the knowledge. Even though he was a combatant, he was no match for her at full capacity.

Guàn was quick to take the knife out of her boot and throw it at him as a distraction. The sniper rifle forgotten in the previous post. She ran while he fumbled with the gun in his hands; she didn't think twice about kicking the back of his knee and when he fell heavily on the clay floor, she didn't hesitate to shoot twice with the Glock.

One dart in the thigh and one in the arm. Where protection was less effective, since the Kevlar did not cover and was just the fabric of the suit covering.

"The third has been neutralized." She said as she put the Glock back in her thigh holster.

"The second too." Giáp replied a little breathlessly. That mask was probably restricting his breathing. Even more because he was a heavy fighter.

"The first one gave up." Kagami said with a mocking tone. The girl hated it when she started to cheer up in a fight and then the person just gave up, for not being able to keep up with her.

“Calm down, Ryū. There are still three- “A siren sounded; the team alert cleared.

"Team E, Team A, Team C eliminated." The announcer's voice loud enough for all the competitors in the Craco ruin - Italy - to be able to hear. “We will have a ten-minute break for competitors to hydrate and replenish their energy.”

"What were you going to say?" Kagami snorted.

It hadn't even been an hour of combat and three teams had already been eliminated. They had taken team E and team A.

Team A was a bunch of filthy elitist pigs, acting contemptuously with them as if they were Asian, were worth less or were easy to beat.

Guàn loved to break the jaw of the leader of the three, Kagami may have stabbed the third a little more violently than recommended and Giáp may have broken the tibia of the second. But it wasn’t like they got a reprimand for it.

Perhaps the producers have turned a blind eye to the rules, only to see the three white supremacists having their asses delivered by three Asian teenagers.

"Okay, we have two to eliminate yet."

She expected them to be a little more challenging.

▫▪▪

In Paris, the class was at different levels of breathing difficulties, but of all, Lila was the most affected.

She didn't know that Dupain-Cheng could be so scary.

"How can she move like this, if she can barely walk straight without falling or hitting something?!" Alya seemed personally offended by Marinette's recent acquired skill.

Chloe snorted mocking the girl.

"Are you serious, Césaire?" She crossed her arms, without patience. "You said you were the girl's best friend for almost a year and you don't know that she can knock someone out with her eyes closed and her hands tied?!"

Alya opened her mouth, but nothing came out in her defense.

"Chloe!" Nino scolded the blonde and Alya felt her heart heat up for being defended by the boy. "It is not their fault that they are ignorant about Guàn's life." And Alya's heart ached with the harsh words.

"They can't talk about it, remember Chlo?" Sabrina asked sweetly, trying to calm Chloe.

The blonde turned her face in a tantrum. There was a pout there.

"I didn't know that Kim knew how to fight." Nathaniel said softly, almost without a voice.

“There is a lot that you don't know about Kim. Or Marinette.” Sabrina said enigmatically.

Adrien was starting to think that they didn't really know anything about the two classmates and the only three who did for some reason wouldn't open their mouth at all.

But he had faith that when the two returned, everything would finally come together. And he would have a very serious conversation with Kagami about hiding things from him.

▫▪▪

Damian was growing more and more impatient. Until that moment he had not yet found his fiancée.

Sure, he had a brief glimpse of her and the other two heads, but all three were armored to the top and he couldn't even make out what color her eyes were. Only that her hair was long and so dark that when the sunlight hit, the color changed to a deep blue.

He, Dick and Jason had eliminated two teams - C and D - with only team B missing. Her team. But somehow, they couldn't find the team anywhere in the ruins of Craco. It was as if they had evaporated with the air.

"I spotted them Demon!" Jason's voice came over the communicator. “They are at the highest point on the e-ek hill! Shit I almost got hit by a dart.”

Damian didn't think twice about leaving his post and running the streets of Craco, closer and closer to the top. On the way, he spotted Dick fighting the man of Team B.

He found Jason crouched behind a rock that was supposed to be the wall of one of the houses, trying not to be hit by the tranquilizer projectiles.

"I'm going up!" He signaled to Jason. "Cover me."

He ran to the entrance to the tower, barely avoiding the projectiles being fired at him. Jason right behind him and Dick alone fighting the other guy.

Damian barely stepped on the top floor when he had to block the yari's blade with his katana. He was fighting the Team B swordswoman and Jason going head to head with Cheng Guàn, Damian's fiancée. The two of them in a shooting contest.

▫▪▪

The Parisian population was quiet. All barely breathing with their eyes glued to the screen. The class was not much different from them. Even Nino, Chloe and Sabrina watched the final confrontation with glazed eyes.

They watched as both Marinette and the other competitor- Jason ran out of ammunition and weapons, without thinking twice about throwing themselves into a fist fight.

They held their breath when it looked like Marinette was finally running out of stamina, Jason taking more and more of the girl's escape routes. Until-

"Piáo chóng!" Kagami screamed, distracting Jason momentarily, while throwing the trident towards Marinette before blocking the sword of the other competitor- Damian, with her own sword.

The girl was not at all surprised by the call and took the trident effortlessly, looking used to the movement. And before Jason could hit her, Marinette threw herself out the window.

"IS SHE CRAZY?!" Surprisingly it was Juleka who screamed. The shy girl was paler than normal.

But no one looked away from the screen. Everyone watching the way Marinette stuck the trident in the clay wall of the house, stopping her fall and the way she landed on the shoulders of Team F’s third competitor-Dick, strangling him with her thighs.

"DO YOU SURRENDER?!" She shouted at him, squeezing his neck even tighter.

"..." Dick was still standing, slapping his hands on her legs and trying to dislodge the girl off him, but the guy had no chance.

As soon as he managed to loosen her grip and breathe properly, three projectiles hit one on the butt, and the other two on each thigh. He fell hard to the ground, Marinette barely having time to jump out of the man. Kim standing behind them with Marinette's revolver.

“Thanks, Con khỉ-“ She didn't finish speaking before running away from Dick's body, Jason arriving like a bull. "GIÁP!"

Kim threw the revolver at Marinette and she fired at the enemy without even thinking. They blinked in time to see five projectiles lodged in his neck before Jason passed out. Avoiding Dick's body for just a few inches.

"Wow, they were a lot more trained than the others." Marinette commented to Kim, neither of them looking worried about Kagami, who was still fighting Damian inside the house.

The split screen showing Kagami's fight and the street where Kim and Marinette were.

“Well, he managed to hit me five times. That means something.” Kim replied relaxed.

"Oh really? This is surprising.” Marinette whistled, impressed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Shall we help aneki?"

“Nah. Let her have fun.”

And the two sat on the floor, watching the group of rescuers on the show take Jason and Dick away.

"I wish I had brought a book." Kim sighed in disappointment and soon Kagami and Damian's fight took over the entire screen.

What the hell?!

▫▪▪

Tsurugi and Wayne were walking in circles, analyzing the level of danger and skill.

Kagami knew who Damian was, she knew this was Guàn's fiancé, because it was her idea to send the letter inviting him to participate in the competition. Because she wanted to make sure he was able to accompany Guàn when she demanded.

Of course, Kagami knew that it was impossible for Damian to be completely useless because he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul; but she wanted to personally test how good he was, because she would accept nothing but the best for Guàn.

Then she convinced Sabine Cheng-Cheng Hua to send the letter.

"I'm glad you accepted our invitation, 悪 霊(akuryoo)." She said, the tip of the katana towards the ground.

Damian tilted his head, intrigued by the way he was called.

It was not popular knowledge the way his family called him.

"I'm grateful." He nods. "It’s always good to test my skills with experienced people."

"Let's finish this."

"D'accord."

▫▪▪

Damian had given up.

Damian Al Ghul Wayne had given up.

After Tsurugi declared defeat, Damian lowered the katana and said 'I give up' directly to the camera, leaving the clay house with her.

That was a shock to Damian's family. But Alfred's discreet smile said that giving up had a much deeper reason than just giving up a fight.

▫▪▪

Guàn and Giáp got off the ground as soon as they saw movements coming from the house where Kagami was fighting with the other competitor.

Guàn had the revolver hidden behind her back, cautious. Until the fireworks went off in the sky.

"Team B is the winner of Ultimate Warrior!" The announcer shouted excitedly. “For the first time since Ultimate Warrior debuted, a group of teenagers won the contest! What a day my friends, what a day!”

The announcer was speaking something, the program staff showing up from where they were hiding, Giáp was snorting with pride as he took off his mask and glasses, but Guàn was more focused on the teenager who accompanied Kagami.

In the middle of the dispute she barely had time to analyze him while running away from his teammate's punches, but at that moment, without imminent danger, Guàn's eyes were solely focused on him.

And he was not much different from her.

Guàn barely had time to pull the ballistic mask off her face before he was standing inches from her, forcing her to lift her chin so she could look him in the eye.

"It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet my fiancée." The boy took her hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on her knuckles without caring about the glove. "You were magnificent against my brother." He said as he lowered her hand.

Guàn raised an eyebrow, a charming smile taking over her expression.

“Oh? I am flattered." She replied, the words sliding sweet as honey. "Cheng Guàn, head of the Cheng." Inclining her head, as an informal bow, Guàn didn’t look away from him for a second.

"Damian Al Ghul Wayne, current Demon’s head."

Demon's head, huh.

She liked the sound of that.

▫▪▪

Adrien was feeling strange.

Marinette's team had won and so she was fraternizing with the enemy in a very non-Marinette way.

"It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet my fiancée.” And he kissed her hand, his greedy, sticky eyes on the girl.

They still had communicators, so everyone was able to hear what they were talking about.

"Fiancée? Did I hear that right?” Max murmured.

"Oh, so this is him." Chloe said disinterestedly.

"He still looks like a serial killer." Nino said, an amused tone in his voice.

"Cheng Guàn, head of the Cheng." Marinette's voice cut through the confused murmurs.

Cheng Guàn? Cheng's head? What the hell was Marinette talking about?!

Classmates seemed increasingly lost.

"Damian Al Ghul Wayne, current Demon’s head." The boy with Marinette replied.

... they were really confused.

And Adrien strangely homicidal.

▫▪▪

After receiving the check of one million-euro, Guàn, Kagami and Giáp were in the car driven by Bai, the driver of the Cheng family.

There was a car in the front with Cheng's bodyguards and another in the back with Tsurugi and Lê's.

After her fiancé introduced themselves, they talked for a while without tactical microphones, being formally introduced to his brothers.

The warning had been given.

Cheng's head was engaged to the demon's head and anyone who tried anything against either of them should expect retaliation from Tsurugi, Lê and Wayne. In addition of Al Ghul.

▫▪▪

It had been a week.

A week since Ultimate Warrior, since Kagami, Marinette and Kim won the competition exhibiting skills that no one knew they had.

The situation in the classroom was a little more tense than usual.

Alya having argued with Nino because he refused to say anything about what happened and ended up breaking up with the boy, thinking he would reconsider for loving her, but he hadn't even blinked twice before leaving the girl talking to herself.

Since then, he sat in the back with Chloe and Sabrina. The three of them sitting comfortably in one seat.

Adrien had tried to extract something from Chloe, using the excuse of best friend wanting to spend time together; but the girl was not fooled by the trick, dismissing Adrien as soon as the boy opened his mouth to speak.

Lila was strangely sulky and silent. Even Alya was unable to cheer up the Italian. She was constantly having to answer mysterious phone calls that only made her more and more furious. Nobody knew how to bring it up, fearing that she would fight with them for meddling in her private affairs, so they just kept their distance.

It was on a Wednesday, exactly a month and fifteen days after they disappeared from Paris, that the class got their first glimpse of Kim, inside a luxury car accompanied by three men twice as big as him. But it had been too quick for them to be sure it was really the boy, so in the end they ignored what they saw.

But it was on Friday, a month and seventeen days, that they actually saw Marinette coming out of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Alya didn't think twice before running up to her, dragging the entire class along - not that they didn't want to go -. She wanted answers and she was going to get it!

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you're going to tell me right now what's going on-" She shouted at first, not caring how much attention she was drawing from the people around her, but the words died in her mouth. For the first time noticing what Marinette was wearing.

The girl was wearing something that Alya had only seen in the Chinese dramas that Marinette watched with her when they were still friends. She remembers the name, hanfu, when the girl explained the different types.

The top was pearly white, the neckline crossed in a 'y' shape. The pleated skirt was a light blue with embroidery of white roses on the hem, the length reaching above the foot - maxi, she remembered Marinette saying -. At the waist, the white lace of the skirt wrapped around the waistband, holding the skirt in place; the same embroidery on the hem of the skirt was also on the ends of the white fabric. Above the hanfu, a thin transparent peach tunic.

On her feet, white kitten heels and the hair, was loose reaching the middle of her back.

She looked ethereal.

"Oh, Alya." The girl sighed as if she had barely recognized Alya. "How are you?" She asks.

Besides clothing, Marinette's way of talking had changed abruptly. There was a delicacy, but also a certain kind of power. As if she were a very important person who had cleared five minutes of her busy schedule to exchange a few words with her classmates.

"Wwhy are you dressed like that, Marinette?" Rose stammered.

It wasn't a strange outfit, not really. It was very beautiful and sophisticated, but very different from what Marinette used to wear normally. Not even the familiar pig tails were in sight.

"Family business." Marinette replied without going into details.

Suddenly, a man wearing a black suit stepped out of the BMW parked on the sidewalk and approached Marinette nimbly. Not sparing even a glance at the group of teenagers around her.

“Guàn 大人(dàrén) I was informed that Al Ghul dàrén is on his way.” The man said to the girl. He put a finger to his ear, where everyone noticed a discreet phone - like those American movies about secret agents -. "Lê and Tsurugi dàrén are accompanying him."

“Thank you, Bai. I will wait inside.” She smiled softly at the man who, after a complete bow, went back inside the black BMW.

"Who is he? And why is he calling you that strange way?” Alix asked, annoyed. She was sure the man was talking about Kim.

Marinette looked back at the class, focusing on Alix.

"This is Cheng Bai, my driver and bodyguard." She responded politely. "I wish I could stay and talk, but I really have to get in." Marinette pointed to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

The girl didn't wait for anyone to answer, before turning around so she could enter the bakery. She was totally insensitive to her classmates.

"Dàrén!" They recognized Sabrina's voice before they even saw her leaving the bakery with Chloe and Nino right behind. “I have updates from- oh! Hey guys, what are you doing here?” She changed the subject when she noticed the class frozen on the sidewalk.

"... We saw Marinette." Juleka replied blandly. She was feeling super uncomfortable with that situation.

"Oh, I understand." The redhead waved mechanically, looking just as uncomfortable.

Chloe ignored the class completely, talking quietly to Marinette and Nino just waved from a distance, showing no desire to approach, even with Adrien in the middle of his colleagues.

Alya seemed to wake up when she saw the three around Marinette. A feeling of betrayal burning in her stomach, but not knowing if it was about Marinette or Nino.

“Girl, what's going on? Why did you disappear?” She asked. "You went missing for a month with Kim, came out of nowhere on a show that I didn't even know you liked, and you were acting different!"

Marinette stopped talking to Chloe to look at Alya. The blank expression, hard as marble.

“Does this have anything to do with Lila? Is that why you are doing this?” Alya continued, not caring about anything else. “We can help you, Marinette. If you leave us, we can help you get over it!”

Chloe, Sabrina and Nino had incredulous expressions on their faces. None of the three believed in Alya's lack of awareness. The blogger seemed unable to think rationally before acting or speaking.

Perhaps that was why Lila had clawed at her so deeply.

"Why would mèi mei need your help?" Someone behind the class asked and they turned around in alarm, only to find Kim, Kagami and- was that Ultimate Warrior contestant Damian Wayne?!

There were also five men and two women in the same style as the man before, Bai, following them closely.

"Kim?!"

"Kagami!"

"What the hell is he doing here?" Adrien murmured poisonously. The look piercing Damian.

The three newcomers were wearing traditional clothing from their culture, as was Marinette.

Kim was wearing slim fit pants, probably cotton, as it didn't look rough. Over his pants, there was a - ao dai, Alix thought. Having seen Kim wear them before, but the old ones were much simpler than what he wore at that moment - which reached knee-high, with buttons on the right side of his chest - like a chef's jacket - and golden embroidery along the sleeves, hem and along the left shoulder to the end of the rib on the right side. There were two slits, one on each side of the body. Derby shined on his feet.

The entire set was black, except for the golden embroidery of ao dai.

Kagami's style was vaguely similar to Marinette's, but with very noticeable differences and a little ‘heavier’. Kimono was the name? Ivan was not sure.

The top part was made up of two layers. The first was white, visible through the collar of the second, which was black with a floral print that varied between purple, white, pink and orange. Both 'y' shaped collars. The sleeves were relatively large, with pieces falling by the side even though the girl had her arm raised between Kim's. The skirt as well as the top was in two layers. The first was a dark green, only two inches showing and the second was red. Pleated and tied right below the chest.

It was less flowing than Marinette's.

On her feet, white socks and wooden sandals.

The third- Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the demon head, was wearing a... dress? No, Nathaniel did not know the name for that outfit, but he did know that most men in the Middle East wore it.

The fabric was pure white - looking quite expensive -; in the throat there was a detail that went down to the middle of the chest, it was probably hiding a zipper or buttons; there was a discreet pocket on his right chest and long sleeves, adjusted on the wrist with the same detail that was around his neck. The hem of the garment reached to the middle of the shin, where it was possible to see centimeters of cotton trousers also white and on his feet, beige Oxford.

Finally, he had a scarf squared with red and white, wrapped around his hair.

"I’m waiting, Césaire." Kim asked again, not looking happy with the lack of response. "Why would she need help?"

Alya snorted, annoyed by the question.

"For what else, Kim?" She asked petulantly. "I'm talking about this obsession and envy that Marinette has towards Lila."

While Kim kept a blank expression, Kagami raised an eyebrow, a scornful smile opening on her lips. Damian hadn't even stopped to greet them, he just walked right past them before pulling Marinette into a tight hug.

Kagami gently tapped Kim's arm that was wrapped around hers and he let her go, while maintaining his haughty pose.

"Why would mèi mei envy Lila, when Lila is just a cockroach?" She asked, Adrien winced at the hardness of her words. “Who is Lila compared to Cheng Guàn? No one. So, I don't know why you insist on this idea of envy.”

Mlle. Bustier's students were in various degrees scandalized. They were used to Kagami's abruptness, but she was always a blunt-non-aggressive type, where words came out rude without intention.

But here she was, being rude and deliberately aggressive.

Lila was soon putting on her best victim mask. With tearful eyes and a fluttering pout.

“Wwhy would you say something like that, Kagami? I never did you any harm, so why are you being a bully?” She sniffed, her voice shrill and fake.

Alya wrapped her arms around the Italian, Rose following closely, sandwiching the girl between them.

"Kagami, don't you think you're being too harsh?" Adrien asked, a pleading gleam in his eyes. "This is just a misunderstanding, isn't it?!" He smiled hopefully, believing that Kagami, like Marinette, would let Lila through without a hitch.

"Why the hell would it be a misunderstanding?" Kagami countered, her eyes growing colder and colder. Kim beside her had a disgusted expression. "She knows pretty well that she is on a tightrope, so she shouldn't be feeding Césaire's stupidity."

And Lila stiffened between the two girls, her face going pale.

"What does that mean?" Mylène asked.

"It means that mother Rossi found out about baby Rossi's antics after she was demoted from her embassy position." Kim replied, satisfaction dripping from his words.

Alya's eyes widened, Adrien gasped in shock and the rest of the class was incredulous.

"Did you dare to conspire against Lila's mother, Marinette?!" She turned to the girl who was talking privately with Nino, Sabrina, Chloe and Damian. Alya's voice caught their attention, again. "Have you gotten so mean, to the point of destroying an honest woman's career?"

Marinette's expression hardened, her gaze sharpening in a way they had never seen before.

"Have you ever in your life stopped to think before opening your mouth?" She asked acidly. "Eventually you're going to piss off someone not as benevolent as me and the results will be disastrous for you."

"... That seemed like a threat." Ivan murmured, his eyes darting nervously over the men and women in suits and possibly armed around them.

"The Cheng don't make threats, Ivan." Marinette looked at him. The icy blue of her eyes pierced him. "They just go and do it."

"That right there! What is this about Chengs, the Demon's head? Why are you acting this way? And why did you move out?” Alix asked, already irritated by everything. Frustrated by the lack of answers.

"You were born in Paris and live here, but have never heard of the Three Families?" Damian asked skeptically. "I understand that you don't know what the Demon's Head means, but not knowing about the Three Families is at least stupid."

"Is this about that legend of France's three richest families?" Nathaniel asked confused. ‘Three Families’ was no stranger to him, but he couldn’t remember exactly where he had heard about it.

“Not exactly... The Three Families are, as the name says, three families. The three main families of the global mafia." Max replied, his eyes wide as he understood the general situation. "The Three Families are composed of Tsuruchi- or rather, Tsurugi." He looked at Kagami. "Lien-Lê," He looks at Kim. "And the Chang-Cheng." And finally, he looks at Marinette.

"Alternative names have been used to hide the real identities of families, but valid information is available to those who are really looking." Kim nodded, enjoying Max's intelligence.

"And if I'm not wrong, the Demon's Head correlates with the League of Assassins, a highly trained clan of hired assassins." The boy spoke again, his eyes flicking over Damian.

Damian smiled scarily. "This and much more." He says in response. "It’s good that there is someone with brain cells in this class."

"So, you mean you four are part of the mafia?" Rose asked shakily.

"We are not part of the mafia." Kagami replied.

"We are the mafia." Marinette completed.

"Then again, why the hell would Guàn be jealous of an Italian girl who only gets attention by lying every second she breathes?" Kim crossed his arms, demanding a response from Alya.

The girl flinched, instinctively turning away from him and Lila.

"III-" She closed her mouth, not knowing what to say. For the first time using reason before emotion.

“Well, while this little meeting has been good, Guàn, Giáp, Damian and I have a place to be. So, if you would excuse us, we’d like to go now.” Kagami said rudely, before dragging Kim and Marinette by the arms to the bakery.

Damian, Chloe, Nino and Sabrina following behind with the bodyguards.

"Ah!" Marinette stopped abruptly, turning back to the class. "Adrien?"

The model jumped, surprised to be called.

"Yes?" He asked cautiously.

"Let Gabriel know that his presence was requested at an audience with the Three Families." She said. Adrien felt like there was a glacier in his stomach. "We have some pending issues to deal with."

Marinette looked at the model waiting for confirmation that he understood what she had said and he nodded mechanically. Fear licking his bones.

She smiled at him before looking at Lila, who was strangely pale next to Rose.

"And Lila?" The girl barely looked up to face her. "Behave. You and I know that you don't want my wrath.”

The girl looked down at the floor, completely subdued and Marinette went back into the bakery without looking back. Everyone coming in soon after, just Sabrina staying behind.

“Max, you will receive an email with important documents about Mlle. Rossi.” She said to the boy. "I hope you make good use of it."

Lila saw her reign collapse like a tower of cards.

And there was no way to escape because she knew she wouldn't be safe anywhere.

▫▪▪

"Cheng-さ ま(sama), was it really wise to expose yourself like that?" Tetsuya, one of Kagami's bodyguards, asked respectfully. "You are at risk of them opening their mouth to someone who might be really problematic."

Guàn smiled kindly at the man, finding his concern cute.

"They are not going to do that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"First because they are too scared of possible retaliation, second that they are too busy now tearing up Lila Rossi." She replied nonchalantly. "Sabrina sent a compilation of all her lies with evidence and facts to Max. They will keep themselves busy for at least until next month with this."

"The only persons we should be concerned with at the moment are Lila Rossi and Alya Césaire." Giáp said seriously. The hard line of his mouth showed how uncomfortable he was with the two girls.

"... Can't we just disappear with them?" Damian asked condescendingly. Caring nothing for the implications of his words.

"No." Kagami was succinct. "If they disappeared now, we would be the prime suspects and even if justice cannot touch us, we would be in evidence." The frown said how bitter she felt about it. "More than we already are."

Kagami would be the first person of the three to suggest getting rid of the problem, but because the three of them in evidence - for having participated in the UW -, that would not be possible.

"Why don't we leave Lila to the police to handle?" Sabrina asked uncertainly, everyone turning to look at her. "She's old enough to be judged by the justice both here and in Italy."

"Wait-" Nino looked at Sabrina in surprise. "Is Lila a criminal or are we planting evidence?"

"Oh, please!" Chloe rolled her eyes. “Rossi doesn't need us to do the dirty work. Her file is dirtier than the sewers in Paris.”

“So, we have a solution for Lila. Thanks Sabrina.” Guàn smiled at the redhead and the girl screeched, before hiding her red face behind the tablet.

Kagami and Guàn were two frighteningly charming young women and Sabrina's gay heart was too weak to withstand such direct attacks.

"Now we need something about Césaire and her gossip blog." Giáp said.

They all sat in silence pondering possible routes.

"Oh!" Nino sighed, an idea forming in his head.

"What is it, Nino?" Kagami asked.

"What is the best way to destroy a journalist?"

Everyone looked at each other in confusion until Damian smiled badly. "A journalist is destroyed by his reputation." He replied. "Spreading fake news, being a tabloid writer and things like that."

"Exactly." Nino nodded his head.

"If Alya tried to expose us, her blog would be enough for all credibility to fall apart." Damian continued. "I've seen one of my dad's associates use this to stifle any news about our... Activities, that escaped to the media."

"Not to mention that she is just a teenager." Qadira, one of Damian's bodyguards, said it out loud. She opened her eyes wide when she noticed everyone looking at her and then she lowered her head to Damian, her expression chastened. "I'm sorry for my boldness, رئیس(raʾīs)."

The sharp edges on Damian's mouth softened.

“Relax Qadira. We are among friends.” He replies and the woman straightens up, slowly nodding at him. "Now elaborate what you said to us."

She hesitated for a few seconds before speaking again.

“I meant that she is just a teenager. No adult will take her seriously, even if her blog is not brought as evidence of her inability to judge or check the facts.”

"Not to mention that she seemed to be a very troubled teenager." Oma, Damian's second bodyguard, pointed. “I don't think she is an immediate risk here. She’s too volatile to be taken seriously.” She shrugged.

"Well, it looks like everything is settled." Giáp raised his arm to check the time on his wristwatch. "Just in time for us to kick Gabriel Agreste's ass."

Marinette turned to Kagami's bodyguard, a sweet smile on her face.

"See, Tetsuya?" She said. "Nothing to worry about."

▫▪▪

"So mèi mei is engaged to the Demon's head." Giáp said suddenly. "That means we have to find our own, aneki."

He and Kagami were sitting on the leather couch, reading some important documents about companies belonging to the Three Families.

The girl looked up from the paper in her hands, no reaction beyond that.

"... I call dibs on Sabrina and Chloe." She responded quickly.

Giáp smiled conspiratorially.

"Great, because Nino is mine."

And then the two went back to reading the documents lying on the table.

... Totally ignoring the people around them, including the three mentioned, who were at different levels of embarrassment.

[tag list]

@justafanwarrior​ @ash-amg​ @neakco​ @g-arya​ @loveswifi​ @actual-disaster-human​ @wannajointhecrabcult​ @lozzybowe​  @iamablinkmarvelarmy​ @saays-bitch @xxmdsxx​ @nicknnie​ @damianette-is-life​ @thegirlwhosawdeath

[physicalturian]

[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 8

[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 8662

Archive of our own

Warning : mention of suicide (follows the manga, you might know which one) mention of fear of dying

— Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

On the morning following the moving night I had with Rengoku, we had to wake up early to train but managed to have breakfast together. Everything seemed different and yet, nothing had changed. Everyone around us was still training, diligently so, never stopping until they would fall exhausted on the ground. People would come and go from the place to get ready under different Pillars than those who had stayed at the Butterfly estate. Rengoku and I were the starting point of the training, we were the ones to get everyone slowly acclimated to the fighting, but it was only a matter of time before they were sent to coach under Uzui to better their stamina. Oh, and the look of pure horror on their faces when they would return from those days of training, face long and muscles sore.

Those who would train with Gyomei were too far away to return to this estate and would stay at a nearby place, along with recruits that would train with Mitsuri. More traumatized trainees would come back from Obanai’s training, their gaze devoid of any emotions as they’d shiver at the mere mention of the Pillar in question. I had heard his method was drastic to say the least, mortifying if I listened to those who would return to the mansion at the end of the day. On the first day I had returned, I realized that this was no simple training; something was at stake, they had to improve, they hadto get better by the end of this or they would not last a fight with Muzan and his remaining henchmen.

Coming back to reality, I looked at Rengoku and asked with a bit of worry laced in my voice, “Is there a reason why the training is so intense this year? I thought Pillars were only supposed to train those who would inherit their will?” I had asked, seated right next to a very awake man while I was still half-sleep, shivers running through my body from the cold of having left the futon only minutes ago. “Ah yes! Well, to start, if we defeat Muzan, there will be no need for Pillars anymore.” He said with a big smile, my heart clenched in my chest at the mention of the famous demon we had been training to defeat for too long already. “Why, yes… But it seems like some very intense training. Not that I mind, we could all use some, but it also seems a lot different.” I replied, observing the recruits outside. “At the swordsmith village, something unbelievable happened, we are trying to reproduce that.” He hummed, focusing on his food, still smiling.

Nudging Rengoku’s elbow, I gestured for him to explain. Realizing he had forgotten to continue, he nodded, took my hand and scooted closer, his knee touching mine as he proceeded to explain all about the mark they had discovered; how Tanjirou had been the first one among them on which it had appeared, followed by Muichiro and Mitsuri. He added that when they returned from the village they had a meeting, but he could not attend it due to the state he was in; he was told they had decided to reproduce the conditions in which the mark appeared. “Giyuu told me young Tokito was the only one who was able to properly explain what had happened.” He said happily while taking another bite of his food—as he did so, his hand slid to my thigh and he absent-mindedly caressed it. “Young Tanjirou and Mitsuri lacked a way with words, and I heard it angered Sanemi, but they still managed to agree unanimously on the course of action to take, which was to work hard to reproduce those conditions.” He finished, nodding to himself.

Kyojuro tried to recall what else was important to say, but I interrupted him by leaning over, my hands resting on his opposite thigh while I looked in the court in shock. “Kyo- Kyo-” I hit his knee a few times, “The demon girl is in the sun! She shouldn’t-“ Sprinting out of the room, I crossed the veranda and rushed to her side. My bare feet hit the pebbles and grass full force, making me wince at each step. Upon reaching her side quicker than I expected, I took off my haori in panic and threw it on her. Both girls that accompanied her looked in confusion and waited a moment, so did I as I tried to catch my breath. “Get her back inside! Why are you letting her-“ Smiling in the most adorable way, the demon girl said my name and lifted the haori from her head to grin, “Thank you!” She seemed to be stammering, clearly struggling to speak but she continued, “I can walk—in the sun.” She pointed at the sky, in case I hadn’t understood her.

I stood there in awe and hesitantly removed the haori from her form, still frowning in confusion. Not knowing what to say, I stood in front of her, unmoving; she did not seem bothered and waited for me to ask anything or to leave, she was patient. “How?” I let out under my breath, my gaze never leaving her. Never in my years as a slayer had I seen this happen, it could change so much.

A hand on my shoulder startled me, a gasp leaving my lips. I recognized the feeling of the hand before turning around to look at the person. Rengoku slid his hand to rest it on my waist and pulled me closer, smiling. “Nezuko can now walk in the sun, she sacrificed herself for the village and for some reason, well…” He explained confidently, gesturing at her smiling face that he mirrored gladly. The two girls accompanying Nezuko tried to usher her away, but before leaving, the miraculous demon girl grabbed my hand and bowed, thanking me again before leaving. I smiled, unsure and embarrassed at my actions then bid her goodbye. “It does not make sense…” I muttered.

It made Rengoku laugh fully while he guided us back inside, “Do not worry, I do not understand either. I am simply very happy that young Tanjirou’s sister is getting better. His will to find a remedy to her condition is doing miracles, is it not?” He asked, his eyes ever so wide and bright. Staring back at him, for a moment I forgot what we were talking about and simply got lost in his beautiful eyes; I couldn’t help myself from cradling his face and kissing his cheek lovingly. “I missed your laugh, and your smile.” He beamed, flustered and happy, and cradled my face back to kiss my lips with just as much love, if not more. “So did I, my love. That does not mean I will go easy on you when we are training the recruits.” He winked before kissing my forehead and sitting back down to finish eating.

Once we were done eating, we went to train the recruits. It was good to be distracted for most of the day, only doing what your body told you to, which was to fight back. Since none of the present recruits of Rengoku’s had been able to hit him, he told them that if they could land a hit on me, he'd give them a chance to strike him. They were fueled up for some reason, probably thinking it would be easy, but I did not have that teacher aura Kyojuro had. I felt no regrets in tackling them to the ground when they did not think and would act rashly. It made their determination falter each time, only Rengoku’s words could cheer them up, “Come on, get up and fight!” he would say, or even, “Don’t back down in front of an obstacle! They hinder your path to toughen you up, stand tall and try again!” He indeed had a way with words and was the only reason the trainees still had hope, he kept their morale up. I admired him for doing so much for all of us.

I made sure to talk about it to him on that evening when we had eaten and were now walking outside under the stars, just like our first evening. “Kyo?” He perked up at his name, his hand tightening around mine with a hum echoing from his throat inquisitively. “Thank you, for being…” cheerful? Hopeful? Determined? Optimistic to a fault? “You. For being you. You are probably the sole reason those recruits think there is hope.” I said confidently, making him huff a laugh. He brought me closer, his steps slowly coming to a stop as he pulled me against him, his back now resting against the wall. “We are all working hard, every Pillar has hope we will make it through. Give them some credit, my dearest.” He said with a beautiful smile. I felt my cheeks heat up and shook my head, “I suppose you are right, I have yet to see them train them,” I started, placing my hand on the fabric on his chest where he delicately slid it under his kimono and onto his chest, a stupid smile adorning his features.

Ignoring his playfulness, I added, “I was talking to myself. Hearing you be so determined is getting to me, in more ways than one but mostly…” I trailed off, my eyes meeting his again. I removed the patch from his left eye and looked at both of them, smiling. “It seems you have managed to give me hope, and I cannot say it does not scare me.” Blinking in surprise, his eyes widened before glimmering with pure happiness. His hands that were resting on my lower back brought me in a tight hug that I returned in no time, “Fear is inevitable, but we have to work with it not against it. If it paralyzes you, find someone that will push you to take that one step, if it makes you lose your determination, find someone that will lend you their strength. And if it makes you lose yourself, then I’ll find you without failing.” He whispered, only I was meant to hear this, it was not a secret of any sort but that intimacy we had was not to be shared with the world. It was him and I, at this very moment it was just us, no one else around, we were alone together.

Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I felt my heart soar in reassurance and pure fear, a mix I could not get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Each passing moment spent with him made this entire fight scarier, I dreaded losing him, but I could not doubt his skills, and hearing him talk like that made me believe. “That way with words never disappears, does it…” I mumbled jokingly against his chest, the rumble of his laugh sending warmth coursing through my body. “Well, I would not want to lose it if we were to pair up to be great entertainers once this is all over.” He beamed; the idea I had thrown at him the night prior seemed to have stuck in his head. All while caressing my back, Kyojuro continued, slowly lowering us to sit on the parquet outside. “Since we both agree I am good with words, here are a few suggestions of very affectionate names you can call me,” His tone was light and humorous, but I knew he wanted to be called something and not just Kyo like I had found myself in the habit of doing a lot recently.

“My love seems to be obvious enough, dear and dearest are definitely agreeable,” He nodded, pondering for more, I looked up from kneeling between his legs and felt my lips curl into a smile as he continued, “My heart, definitely love that one-“ Seeing my face, his expression was suddenly flustered, and he continued a bit more quickly, “I do not mind if you prefer to call me Kyo! I am simply throwing ideas-“ “Sunshine?” I cut him off, grinning. “Would that be alright? After all, you are like the sun, warm, bright and your smile does brighten my day. I would say it is suitable.”

He turned shy, for a moment I had rendered him mute. The first time I had a very silent Rengoku in front of me was on that beautiful gentle summer night with his gaze locked on mine. The smile on his face was growing silently as he looked at me with an emotion I could not quite decipher, but he got himself together fast and leaned over enthusiastically, making me lean back in surprise, his face was now almost touching mine, “I love it. I love you, I love your idea, say it again!” he breathed a small “please” without ever looking away. Knowing that I had all his attention, I could not help but feel my body heat up, there was no reason to feel embarrassed, but I still suddenly felt awkward. “Sunshine, would you please kiss me?” I said softly, not wanting to wake everyone up. We were outside and seeing where we had walked, I believe we were outside Uzui’s room.

Clasping his hands on my cheeks, he kissed me once, twice, three times, then kissed my forehead, my cheekbones, I had to stop him. “Enough, enough, sunshine-“ “Say it again, louder! It is such a sweet name, I do not believe I will ever get enough of it, say it again.” He pressed in such a cute way, his hands wandering to mine as he helped me stand up while doing it himself. Chuckling, I shook my head and whispered back, “No, we should head back and get some sleep. I would not want to wake everyone up.” I said with another huffed laugh when his expression fell and he pouted innocently, it left his face when Uzui slid his door open and gave us an angry look, “I’m not in the mood to hear you two be cute and shit, go the fuck to sleep.” His speech was slurred, his hair disheveled, he looked different, but he clearly sounded like his usual self, grumpy and scolding.

Laughing, Rengoku nodded and bowed him goodnight before pushing him back inside and closing the door, he did not miss the opportunity to say a bit louder and playfully, teasingly, “What a grumpy old man, no wonder he retired-“ “I will gut you, Ren!” Uzui’s grumble echoed when the door slid open brusquely before we rushed back to our room, stupid giggles muffled in our mouths as we tried to keep in it while running. We held back until we reached the bedroom where we burst out laughing, I had to shush Kyojuro seeing how his face was turning redder from laughter, he fell to his knees still laughing. I knelt in front of him and covered his mouth, still chuckling myself, albeit more discreetly. “Stop, you are impossible— breathe through your nose you foolish man.” I told him with a smile, shaking my head when he wasn’t stopping. I waited for him to calm down to free his mouth and see how out of breath he was from his fit of laughter.

“Feeling impish tonight, are we?” I asked when he had calmed down and was now sitting properly in front of me. With a beautiful, childish smile, he nodded, “He interrupted our moment, I do believe some payback was due.” He said jokingly before leading us to the futons we had placed next to one another to have enough space for the two of us. “Well, I could have done without running more after such a long day, you are lucky you have a pretty face. It must have saved you from a lot of trouble during your childhood.” I said lightly. Bringing my pillow next to Rengoku’s, I settled comfortably; for a moment I hesitated laying my hand on his stomach to cuddle up to him, he grabbed my hand and placed it on him wordlessly and replied, “If you like my pretty face, you should see Senjurou’s! He is the cutest little brother—he would like to become a swordsman!” “Like his big brother? It is understandable, you must be quite the role model.”

There was a short pause, “He likes to help people, and I suppose all he has known is my father and I being swordsmen… However, I believe he would make a great healer, I wish he could see things my way.” Humming pensively, I pondered his words, perhaps just as he was. Senjurou probably wanted to take down demons, that’s all he has heard his entire life so I said, “If we take down Muzan, there will be no need for him to learn swordsmanship.” The hand resting on my waist gripped it even tighter when Rengoku turned his face to look at me from an odd angle, I could see his smile even like that. “You are right!” he muttered it again, then added, “We will change things, no matter what.” He said, determined. I held back my darker thoughts, not liking the words he had spoken. I knew him, his will and his determination knew no bounds, I was aware he was ready to sacrifice his life if it meant winning, and that is the exact reason why I did not want to think about it.

If the opportunity to sacrifice himself does not show, he will not die… I will make sure of that.

We talked more about Senjurou afterwards, falling asleep quite fast.

After that first day, a routine had settled. In the morning we would wake up at ungodly hours and have a peaceful breakfast—or as peaceful as it can be with the older Shinazugawa brother yelling at his pupils. Once we were done, we would go to the open court and see some of our recruits going to train with a different Pillar once they had reached the goal set for them. It was nice to be busy the entire day, it cleared the mind somehow by filling it with tasks easy to manage. Breaks were given during training, it allowed me to spend some relaxing time with Kyojuro. It would not always be quiet, recruits would sometimes come in and ask questions, forcing us to be more discreet in our display of affection to not make them feel awkward. A few times I was the one called away from training, by the Pillars that were already here at the mansion to try to have me awaken the mark, each time was in vain.

The time I had been told that someone had come to visit and I had to bring her to Master Ubuyashiki was the first time I had seen her and got caught off guard when I understood she was a demon. I had to walk with her alone through the forest to reach the estate in which the Master was resting. He had decided to lay far away from us, to keep the worry away. My guard was back up quite quickly, but I greeted her nonetheless and brought her to the room of the young Master. I had never seen the state he was in until now, it broke my heart to see him so incapacitated; his condition had worsened, and I knew from my gut’s feeling that he would not last long. Both the demon woman—I later learned her name was Tamayo—and I were conveyed to come nearer. Following the Master’s orders, we shuffled closer and sat by his side. He had said my name first, taking my hand in his and smiling kindly. I could not see his eyes because they were bandaged, but I knew how kind his eyes were, how gentle the young man was, and I felt it in how warm his hands were.

“I can feel your uncertainty my child, your aura is disturbed. So is your heart?” It felt like a déjà-vu to hear someone mention my troubled aura. The man depended on more than his eyesight to read people, just like Gyomei did, but I was always amazed at how good he was at it. Glancing at Tamayo, I felt a bit shy having this conversation with Master Ubuyashiki with her there, but I hummed, “Do not trouble yourself, I am more than focused on training and fighting, I will not falter on the battlefield.” I stated, determined. His delicate laugh echoed, it slowly turned into a cough; Nichika, who had been by his side the entire time, helped him sit up and handed him a handkerchief. Drinking some water after his coughing fit seemed to have helped a bit, at least enough for him to smile kindly and say, “Reliable as always. Perhaps you should be focused on getting your mind off things? I am certain someone would be more than willing to help distract you…” He trailed off playfully.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I gave him a look of surprise, knowing full well he was being mischievous on purpose. My delayed response made him smile. “Young Master, I am sure you have more important things to do than worry about my... romantic affairs." I replied diplomatically, still at loss as to why he would mention Rengoku. The blind man chuckled once more, “I have important matters to attend to, indeed, however I care about the wellbeing of all my children.” He explained, ever so caring. I took a moment to ponder, perhaps too long since he added on a humorous note that had an underlying serious tone, “Would you indulge in a dying man's curiosity?” Gasping silently, I felt a knot form in my throat and held back from saying “You are not dying” out of despair. He was, we had been told since the very beginning he would not live long, but being reminded of it truly stomped my mood for a short moment.

“Hopefully I’ll satisfy your curiosity enough to bring you back.” I said playfully, albeit sadly too. He would not want us to treat him differently, and he was very close to us in age after all; I was allowed to be slightly playful. With that, I proceeded to tell him about everything. Tamayo even partook in the conversation; I was surprised to see how kind she was and how knowledgeable too. Calling the both of us together was odd, but seeing how the Master and Tamayo got along I suppose he needed some company. At first that was what I thought, yes, until he dismissed me once we were done, and his expression turned more stern when he looked back at Tamayo. She was the important matter he had to attend to, she had an important part to play in this fight and he had to make sure she was ready.

After that meeting, I returned to my lover and tried to distract my darkening mind. I had a hard time getting rid of the negative thoughts that plagued it, but being with him helped; it was easier to forget about everything when he started gushing about Tanjirou’s prowess in training, he was passing all the tests at an incredible speed which amazed more than one.

That was added to the routine, I could never emphasize enough how much I needed those relaxing moments in the evening when we would talk absent-mindedly about everything and anything as if everything was normal. As if an inevitable death was not coming, as if we were sure we had a tomorrow after the final fight.

Days went by fast; the routine was only broken a few times. One time when one of the swordsmiths had made its way to the estate with a well-wrapped sword in hand, I rushed to their side and knew from the determined steps and the mask who it was. “Hotaru, to what do we owe the pleasure of-“ “What else but a sword? I can’t believe how easy it is for all of you to ruin the beautiful swords we make. Do you not realize the amount of time put into making those beauties!?” He grumbled, as usual. Ignoring his complaints, I offered to bring the sword to the one who needed it, but he pulled back and said he would do it himself, adding “There is no way your brute hands are touching this masterpiece, get me the Fire Pillar, he’s the birdbrain who broke his sword.” Tilting my head to the side, I tried to recollect when it could have happened and felt very defensive suddenly. “I do believe that birdbrain took the most damage when your village got attacked, did he not?” I stood tall in front of the strong man, knowing full well he could take me down too, but I did not budge.

“Are you a guard dog or something? Just get me the Fire Pillar—you know what, I’ll get him myself.” He pushed me aside to try and find Rengoku himself; instead, both of us bumped into the man in question when I tried to grab him to stop him from walking away. An annoyed sound escaped Hotaru, he was very close to throwing a fit when he saw the man in front of him, his posture straightening as he bowed and handed the sword with his arms extended in front of him. “Do not break it this time.” He simply said. Kyojuro met that remark with laughter, he was careful in removing the cloth and grabbing it before skillfully twirling it around once he had stepped back. “It is so much lighter! Thank you so much-“ “Don’t be sweet, look at the hilt, you better thank me for that.” Doing as he was told, Rengoku paid attention to the hilt that I now noticed had changed. It was still a vibrant color, but it was a different shape.

Hotaru handed the old hilt to Rengoku, “I kept it since you seem like the sentimental type-“ the grumpy man was interrupted by the lion-like man’s tight hug after he had sheathed his sword away. The entire interaction was painful to see, the swordsmith had to push away from Rengoku’s tight hug with brute force; even if I could not see his face, I felt like he did not mind, if he had he would have beaten the blond up. “Do you know how hard it was to make that hilt?”

I interrupted, “A poppy? It seems simple enough.” “Oh, it’s not hard, but when the wounded, half-asleep idiot,” He smacked Rengoku on the top of the head, making the younger man wince, “...who requested it only described it as the red one, the flower at the top of the hill, well, it makes the entire process harder.” Upon hearing his words, I met Kyojuro’s gaze and felt my cheeks heat up, but I held back from speaking. Hotaru did not. His eyes jumped from my lover to me, at least that is what I think they were doing since all I could see was his face going from the Fire Pillar to me, “I’ll be taking my leave,” he said awkwardly, all the anger having left his voice suddenly. He grabbed Ren by the collar and brought him close to whisper something I could not hear before bowing and bidding us farewell.

Once he was gone, I joined Rengoku’s side and asked, “Why did you choose a poppy?” I had a feeling I knew why, yet I could not bring myself to assume it was about me. “Why do you think, songbird?” a stupid smile made its way to my lips, I knew it, but I could not stop it. Nor could I stop myself from touching the hilt of the sword, taking a good look at it instead of looking at Kyojuro. “It is the flower you gave me at the fireworks-“ “The first flower, I plan on giving you many more! But you are very correct.” He said happily, tilting my head up to look at him before kissing me softly. I kissed him back longingly then broke the kiss, my hands having slipped to his shoulders without me realizing it. “It is a coincidence too, but the meaning of poppies is dreams, luxury, and other things too. But the most important thing is!” He grinned and leaned over, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, “That you are a dream come true and definitely all I can dream of.”

He pecked my cheek gently, looking at me with the proudest expression that had ever crossed his face. “Smugness is a fine look on you, I have yet to decide if it was smooth or corny.” I smirked, bumping his shoulder with mine to signal we should return to the recruits who had not stopped working. Looking at Rengoku who was now walking behind me, I thought all the sweet things he would do or say made me swoon without exception. It was all those small things that made me want to have all of him. I held back of course, as hard as it was, but it was good practice to act more… civilized, instead of displaying affection openly in front of everyone.

Time went on as usual afterwards, the trainees were improving greatly. Not all of them had the same pace, some were slower and others, like Tanjirou and Inosuke, surprised all of us with the speed at which they were improving. I found some resemblance between Genya’s and Tanjirou’s mindset, not exactly the same but something similar at least. I had not talked enough with Inosuke to understand what his motive was, but I knew both Genya and Tanjirou wanted to protect the one they loved. The birthmark boy was determined to find a cure for his sister, while Genya was dead set on proving Sanemi he was worthy. It always pained me to see how Sanemi treated his brother, even after the many attempts the latter did to show he was not useless.

As if I had manifested it, while walking back to the room I shared with Rengoku, I was thrown on the ground when a body hit mine. I let out a grunt, but did not have time to complain before the body moved from my form, and I was able to move the door that had been kicked from its position and had landed on the ground. The soft voice of Tanjirou then echoed, “Stop this!” What is going on? I thought as I observed without interrupting, stepping back to let them talk. Listening more, it seemed like Sanemi was using brute force once again to make Genya understand he should leave the corps. There was no need for me to interrupt, seeing how Tanjirou was defending Genya beautifully, but while his words were deep and meaningful, Sanemi did not do emotional.

He did violence. It’s all he knew. And it showed when the brunette’s words reached him enough to annoy him, his usual frown was deepened into a scowl. Only seconds after, he was grabbing him by the throat and lifting him from the ground. “I’ll incapacitate you first, if not him.” He gritted through his teeth; I saw Zenitsu grab Genya’s hand before running away with him while the recruits around stared in shock. I was the first one to stand up, they followed my motion and jumped on him to stop him from attacking Tanjirou; there was nothing much he could do against all the recruits, so he let go of the brunette. Once the latter was out of sight, I ordered all the trainees to leave and was left with a seething Sanemi. Without wasting much time, I dropped my haori and tied my sleeves out of the way. “You utter moron, when will you learn that it is not the proper way to express your affection to your brother?” I spat.

He scoffed, pulling out his sword—I did the same; it was different than the training in the dojo because this time he was filled with ire. “What affection? I don’t have a brother.” “Then why do you care if he is in the corps?” I asked, frowning. He ran at me with full speed and as usual, a dance ensued. Dodging, slashing, dodging, kicking, those were the steps, the tempo was set erratically by his thoughtless actions, completely letting the frustration lead. “You’re always so fucking nosy, let me deal with my shit.” He grunted; I had a hard time believing his constant nonchalance. If I took a good look at him, I could see the worry painted in his eyes, how he hated the choices his brother made, how he wished he could do something. But being unable to do anything made him react in the most idiotic ways.

“It stops being your shit the moment you start harming the people you’re supposed to train, understood?” I said sternly. His gaze turned into a mocking one as he slashed my way again, “I don’t see how that’s your problem, you’re not a Pillar, you’re not that great at fighting, you’re nothing, you have nothing to do-“ “Oh, I did not know we were going down the petty road.” I stated before blocking his hit, I tried to grip his hand and open it to make him drop his sword, but he held tight and scoffed. I continued, “You are being so reckless and immature. It is surprising, even coming from you.” His words echoed in the back of my head, but I fought them by wording more positive thoughts out loud, with a scoff, “I thought it above you to use your status as a show of power, do you not realize I am still standing even after all your attacks?” Those were the wrong words to speak. His stance changed drastically, I quickly understood he was serious now and not just letting the steam out.

There was no helping the nervous giggle that escaped my lips. He was not thinking at all, he was blinded by rage he had built up on his own, he was running at me like a fool, clearly not caring if he got hit by my sword. The best thing I could do was twirl my sword around so that the hilt would hit him instead of the blade. Only seconds after, upon impact I was thrown to the ground. The tip of his sword was grazing my throat, I did not dare breathe. “Shut your fucking mouth, fuck you’re annoying, can’t you keep your head down and-“ “Sanemi, my friend, it’s enough.” The grey-haired man did not glance at the voice that was heard, I did not dare look either in fear he would act during that split second and kill me or perhaps because I just wanted to keep an eye on him.

“Drop the sword, my friend.” Rengoku’s gentle yet stern voice reached my ears again, I knew he would not let me get hurt but I also wanted to yell at him for trying to talk sense into the fool that had a blade at my throat. Sanemi’s response was to grin wider, I did not have time to see that smile widen into a manic laugh that he was kicked off of me. I was fast to sit up and crawl backwards to the veranda to let them fight. The Wind Pillar stood up fast, his expression thrilled, “Rengoku, get the fuck out of my way. Your diplomatic fuck needs to learn when to-“ he was cut off by the Fire Pillar punching him in the face and bringing him down by hooking his foot around the angry man’s ankle. “Watch your mouth, the girls are watching!” His tone was light, but his expression, from what I could see on the side, was dead serious. I saw from the corner of my eyes Kiyo, Naho and Sumi peeking from behind the wall, ever so worried. Returning my eyes to the men in front of me, I scooted to stand in front of the girls in case they decided to continue fighting.

The ginger gripped the wild man’s collar and lifted him from the ground, his smile disappearing slowly as he leaned in, “You made two mistakes, the first one was attacking your brother, your blood, the boy who is trying so hard to be worthy for you. What kind of role model are you? Do you not realize the luck you have to have him by your side? Fix this, or you will regret it.” He spoke from experience, not that he had a bad relationship with his brother, but he missed him, and I knew he was working hard to be the best role model for Senjurou. Rengoku was a man keen on bonds, on keeping good relationships with people and never in his life would he let things get this bad with his brother. I could read it in his eyes how angry he was at Sanemi for acting like this. Sanemi kept his mouth shut, which was a step forward to calming him down since he was now listening, “The second was fighting dishonorably.” He spat before letting go of Sanemi's collar and gesturing for him to follow, “Let’s finish this somewhere else. Only then will you return to your recruits.” It was not a suggestion.

Watching them leave, I did not say anything. I started thinking of how to thank him for having my back, but as I thought so, Rengoku called my name, getting my attention, “Do not forget our recruits! Get up and go train them, I will join you shortly, my love.” He winked with his usual grin, my face suddenly felt hot at the name he had used in front of so many people, it made him laugh. While the girls patted my shoulders, telling me to get up, I saw Rengoku hit the back of Sanemi’s head while they walked towards the forest. How quick were they to get friendly again? I suppose Ren had that effect on people, he was calming to be around and forgiving too, it was hard to feel bad around him.

That fight was quickly forgotten, everyone had other things to think about. Most of the recruits thought it was usual for the Wind Pillar to be mad like that and were not even disturbed. Only the other Pillars and Tanjirou’s little clique knew what had truly happened and that Sanemi and Genya were in fact brothers. It was not an information everyone needed to know, hence it was kept for very few people to know.

The countdown until the fight with Muzan was going; in the blink of an eye, we had reached the day before the fight. It was not a day of festivities, we had all agreed on winning and only then would we be celebrating. We were fully aware that we would not all be there by the end of it, but none of us would mention it. It was an unspoken fact, one that wandered about, weighing the air we breathed, making everything more glum. No matter how hard we tried, we were aware of it, even if it was just in the back of our minds while we waited for the time to leave the estate and head to the territory before sundown.

It was hard not to think about it, people were playing games, others had gone to sleep the day away. I found myself walking about the estate in the late afternoon, not knowing what to do and overheard a discussion I knew I should not have heard. Perhaps getting caught off guard at the mention of Shinobu killing herself was what made me let my stealth down. My name was called by the delicate, strained voice of Kocho telling me to come in. I had to take a moment to calm down and slithered inside, my mouth shut tight when I felt a wave of sadness rush over my body. She proceeded to explain the strategy she had in mind to kill the demon that had killed Kanae, her sister. I paid attention, trying to find a fault in her strategy, trying to find anything to convince her to change her mind but it made sense. She knew what she was doing, she was determined, I hated it, I felt heavy in my chest. She taught me a lot, she was not my closest friend but we were close enough for me to feel this pain.

At the end of her explanation, she smiled at Kanao and dismissed her. I was about to follow when she told me to stay seated. We then waited for the younger girl to leave. Once we were sure she was away, I breathed out, “Is this a goodbye, Shinobu?”

She hummed. I looked up from my lap and saw her strained smile, her determination was unwavering, she knew what she had to do but I saw her hands clenched on her lap. “There is no way to change your mind, is there?” She shook her head, her smile still present, her eyes closed with wrinkles at the corners from how hard she was forcing that smile on her face. “There is no need to act tough with me, you have seen me cry many times. I believe it is fitting to cry on your last day alive, don’t you think?” Those were the words that made her crumble. In an instant, I was in front of her and was holding her tight as she mumbled it was the right thing to do but it is hard to let down Kanao, to leave her alone in this world. “Alone? There is no way I am dying out there, I will keep an eye on her. And you are not letting her down, you are doing what is most honorable, she will battle by your side resolutely.” Shinobu was not one to cry, she did not stay in my arms long. As she pulled away, she smiled to herself sadly, “I wish to be the only one who dies out there.”

I could not promise that, we were going to lose many people, I knew that, she knew that, we all knew that. “But it will not be that easy,” she continued, lifting her head to look at me with a sincere gaze, “I will welcome those who will fall during battle, no one will be alone. You must stay alive and keep living, no matter what.” It sounded like she was repeating herself, but I knew what she meant. Do not let the darkness take over, do not lose your mind over the losses this battle will bring. “That is quite a huge favor, I am not sure-“ “You will, you have to. You are the one who has the most to look forward to once this is over.” There was no need to remind me of that, if I had things to look forward to, it meant I had things to lose and that scared me. So, I tried to distract myself and chuckled, “Do you wish to hear a funeral speech? I am not very familiar with living funerals, but I can try if you wish.” That made her laugh; thus, I spent the following hour with her. Making jokes, bantering and remembering the good times. It did not make the goodbye any easier but it was nice.

At around 4 in the afternoon, the sun was still high in the sky, so we still had a few hours or so in front of us before the plan Master Ubuyashiki had set would take place. For those remaining hours, I had called Rengoku to our chambers and decided to spend as much time with him as possible.

Upon entering our chambers, Rengoku undid his kimono and started stripping without much care, “Do you believe we should dress for the occasion? A battle like this calls for-“ “It is a simple battle, a battle we will win. Nothing has to be different; it is but a bigger demon.” I stated, looking away from his naked form. Did I believe the words I had spoken? Barely, but I needed to hear them, even if it was last minute, I needed to convince myself it was going to be alright. “You are very right; I see you are already dressed in your slayer attire.” He noticed, his voice soft and carefree. It probably was an act, but I enjoyed it, I needed it. As I looked down at my black outfit, I felt a whiplash at the realization of how close we were getting to that fight we had been preparing for so long.

Ignoring my thoughts for the umpteenth time, I gestured for Rengoku to follow me as I moved to the cabinet and grabbed a comb and a ribbon. He understood and sat in front of me, ready for me to take care of him. I did so in silence rather quickly, his hair was a lot less tangled than usual, as if he had taken the habit to brush it. It made me smile for a short moment as I threaded my fingers through his hair. Once I was done, I threw his braid over his shoulder and as if on cue, “With that, I’m sure to win! Nothing will get in my way.” He said enthusiastically as he stood up before saying, “I am quite glad it is the last time we are wearing this attire.” He pinched his shirt to emphasize when we stood up, but I interrupted him and glared at him, not thinking twice before saying, “Do not say that! We will win!” A lie, I did not believe those words, why was I getting that desperate? Why only now?

Rengoku’s eyes widened as he finished buttoning up his shirt; he then walked up to me and cradled my face to smoosh my cheeks and stare at me for a long time. “I meant that once we have defeated Muzan, there will be no need for the corps. We will retire, in a beautiful house near a big field.” He said, never letting go of my face.

I stared back, feeling stupid for my outburst. He was right, but deep down I knew that no matter the outcome, it was the last time we would wear this uniform. Kyojuro must have read my mind, or read my expression, my gaze getting lost in his from overthinking the situation. “Please, stop overthinking.” “I can’t do that. My mind is riddled with anxiety, I am conflicted between blindly trusting our skills or getting used to the idea we are all going to die.” I said, tears pricking the corner of my eyes. Rengoku’s brows knitted together in sadness at seeing me like this. I moved his hands away from mine to wipe the tears to calm down, thinking he should not have to carry the weight of my gloominess out on the battlefield. But I could not help the words from flooding out of my mouth, “I am so afraid of losing you, there is so much more I wish we had done, I regret not-“ “Stop right there,” He pulled me close to him and held me so tight I thought I would break. His head was resting on my shoulder as he hugged me in a bone-crushing embrace. “There is no regret; all that has happened, happened the moment it should have.”

Still holding me tight, he said, “Perhaps fate has other plans for us, perhaps it will try to separate us, but I love challenges, and if I have to defy fate to be with you, I will do it.” I laughed at that, knowing it was impossible, but this man was known for doing the impossible. He was himself impossible, untamable in the best way, the freest mind I had ever encountered. If there was one person who could go against fate and win, it would be him. “I would like to say the same, but at best I will defy Muzan himself, fate seems a bit too hard to beat but-“ “Easy enough for me! I am very skilled,” He said happily, his hands moving to mine as he pulled me with him, our arms extended lazily in front of us as he dragged me around the room all while talking, “I once caught a fish with my bare hands—well it jumped right back in the river, but I caught it!” He said cutely, almost tripping onto the futon behind him, I quickly pulled him towards me and held him close as I looked at him fondly.

“Skilled? Your balance is lacking, perhaps you should have taken dancing lessons.” I said playfully, one of my hands moving to his shoulder while one of his slid to my waist, bringing my hips closer. “My mother taught me how to dance, she was the most delicate when dancing with beautiful flowery dresses,” He smiled genuinely before kissing me and whispering, “Sing me a song, I will show you.” Lost in his glimmering eyes, I simply looked at him in awe, enjoying the warmth of his hands on my body. After a few moments had passed, he reiterated with a chuckle, that’s when I asked, “A song—yes. Which one? I know so many, maybe-“ “The one you were singing when I woke up the first time.”

Taken aback, I gulped and nodded, taking a few seconds to compose myself before starting. It was not made to be a concert, no, it was loud enough for both of us to enjoy and bathe in the serenity it brought us. As I sang, he brought my head to his chest and hummed along, a few notes were off but it made my heart burst with love to know how much he remembered it. I could hear his heartbeat and I hated myself for thinking it could be the last time I did so. Must it be so hard to brandish a sword and defend the ones you love? Must the price of failure be their death? How did we end up here, risking our lives for something none of us had asked for? For a moment, I wished we had been in a reality where we were entertainers, something we were anything but.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks, my words had come to a stop for I was now simply humming and so was Kyojuro. His head was resting against mine and we were slowly waltzing across the tatami, enjoying the moment, perhaps our last together. His embrace was like home, a home I did not wish to leave, it was welcoming and reassuring, a place I wanted to protect and go back to when this was over. It made my heart twist in the most horrible way at the thought of not being able to, of being alone without him by my side, of not hiring a painter to follow us on our adventure, of not having a dog with a silly name. “I am in love with you, please do not die, sunshine.” I sobbed against his chest, his arms tightening around my shoulders as he reassured me.

His answer did not stop the tears and was carved in my mind even hours later, after the explosion of the mansion in which Muzan was, after the Pillars had run there to help, after we had split in teams to all go to our assigned area. The words flashed vividly in my mind as I set foot on the battlefield, shambles surrounding us,

“Let’s live on, let’s do our best to live on, no matter how lonely it gets.”

[Part 9]

[axwalker]

Bad Timing: Kismet

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together. 

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood? 

This chapter

MASTERLIST 

WORDS: 3,890 🙊

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes. 

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors. 

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

PRESENT TIME Alexis

 After a one-hour bus ride and a 20-minutes walk, I finally find the correct address. When I reach the massive iron gates, I punch in the code Mr. Beaumont’s assistant gave me on the phone and gape as the extensive estate comes into view when I walk through. Acres and acres of super green grass littered with pines surround the massive house in the distance. The closer I get, the more I feel like a foreigner. This might have been my world once, but my new reality couldn’t be further apart from all this luxury. I have fifty dollars left in my wallet, an eviction notice back in my 200 square foot studio, and to top it all, the worst freaking headache I’ve had in my life. Talk about a bad streak. Ironically, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. My life belongs to me; I don’t have to live in constant fear and –most importantly, I’m free. Unattached. I want to do a lot of things with my life, and no one will stop me. That’s worth the worst headache in the world or a few money problems. 

I ring the bell, and a gorgeous woman opens the door. Her deep blue eyes scowl at me when I smile at her. 

“Who are you looking for?” She doesn’t ask as much as she barks the question. 

“Eh,” I haven’t been called shy a single day of my life, but her attitude it’s messing with the positive vibes I had coming up here. “I’m looking for Mr. Bertrand Beaumont from Beaumont Caterings.”

 “This door is for house guests only. The help,” she says the word as if it tastes bad in her mouth, “must go around the house and ring the bell back there.” She’s about to close the door right in my face when two hot guys come to the door. Seriously, what do people eat in this country? 

“Penelope, what are you doing answering the door like a simple maid? Where is Jessa?” 

Penelope rolls her eyes. “She had to leave early. She said she asked you for the afternoon off.”

The older man nods as, the younger one grins at me. “We can discuss Jessa’s schedule later, Bertie. Please, come in, Ms.?” He asks me, still smiling. 

“Ortiz. Alexis Ortiz.” I grin back, instantly liking the man with the kind blue eyes. “I’m here for the catering job.” 

“I’m Maxwell Beaumont. This is my brother Bertrand—the owner and Penelope Brim, one of our party planners.”

I follow them to a huge office and give Bertrand the resumé I printed at the internet place next to my building.  

“Is this all true?” He asks after a quick read.

I nod my head.

“Are you sure, Ms. Ortiz? It says here that you were working as a bartender, a barista, and a waitress in a very exclusive French restaurant, all at the same time.”

Penelope gives me a dismissive glare. “She’s obviously lying. That isn’t even possible. Unless she’s iniquitous.” 

I know better than to interrupt a potential employer, even worse if it’s to correct them, but this woman is grating on my nerves. Plus, I had a lifetime of keeping my head down with Matt, and I just don’t have the patience for this kind of crap anymore. And she called me a liar. Hell no.

“No, Ms. Brim, I’m not ubiquitous.” Maxwell snorts, and I swear the other guy, Bertrand, smiles behind my CV. I refrain from telling her what iniquitous actually means because I do need this job. “I worked as a barista in a Starbucks from 5 to 11 am. Then as a waitress at “Clair de Lune” from 12 to 6 pm. Finally, as a bartender in an Irish pub from 7 to midnight or 2 am, depending on the day. You can call any of those places and see I’m not lying.” Just please, God, don’t ask for my papers.

Maxwell reads the resumé when Bertrand gives it to him. “Do you speak French and Spanish as well?”

I shrug. “I love languages, and I grew up in a house where my mom and grandmother only spoke Spanish. I learned French in school. I had an amazing teacher.” 

Maxwell and Bertrand look at each other. The older brother, a younger, sterner version of Hugh Jackman, clears his throat. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Ortiz. Two of our waiters are absent, and tomorrow we’ll be catering to one of the most important events of the year. If everything in your resume is true, you can start training today --paid of course, and start working tomorrow.”

Paid training? Despite my throbbing head, I want to scream with happiness. “Everything is true.”

“That’s settled then. Penelope, please, darling, show Ms. Ortiz the kitchens and the ballroom. You can ask Naomi to train her for tonight. You know Regina, and she’ll want everything to go as smooth as possible.” 

“Right.” Penelope turned at me with an uptight smile. “Come with me.” 

I turn and beam at Maxwell, who’s giving me a thumbs up. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.” 

Bertrand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Ortiz. Just do an impeccable job.” He glances at my Vans. “And for the love of God, only heels tomorrow.” 

I nod and follow Penelope down the hallway. 

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DRAKE

 “This is why you ditch your friends who get hitched to a relationship,” I grumble, sitting in my chair. 

“He’s five minutes late,” Liam says. 

Leo shakes his head. “Well, I want a goddamn drink. How come I can’t order one until he gets here?” 

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are acting like children. You can wait five minutes.” 

“Maybe, but I need something, and fast.” 

“Ah, there they are,” Max exclaims, hands clasped together, staring at us. “My boys.” Jesus Christ. Liam is scooped into a hug and then set back in his chair. 

From over Liam’s head, Max points at me and shakes his finger. “Come here; you handsome Walker bastard.” 

I hold up my hand. “I’m good.”

 “Nope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to pass up Max’s snuggles.” Before I can move, he swoops to his knees, pulls me into a hug. . . and nuzzles. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I ask, my voice strong as I try to push him away. 

“You smell like heaven,” he says, chuckling. No one likes to fuck with me as much as Maxwell Beaumont does. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of my best friends, and the bastard is well aware of it. 

“Get out of here.” I palm his face and push him away. 

Leo laughs. “Come on, man, you know Walker is a sour bastard.” 

With another laugh, Maxwell retreats to his seat, unbuttons his jacket, and sits down. Hands-on the table, he looks between us and declares, “I’m in love.” 

Christ. “We know,” Liam and I say at the same time, irritation heavy in our voices. Leo just rolls his eyes as he looks for a waiter. 

Maxwell has only been dating Rashad for a few weeks, so it’s no surprise he’s like this—a hopeful idiot with a relentless smile. Hell, he’s been in love with the man for years. It took him a really, really long time to finally make a move. He adjusts his tie as he says, “You don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just sharing. Isn’t that what this is all about? Sharing?” 

“Sharing? I thought this was about drinking as much as possible and hooking up with a hot waitress,” Leo says, flagging down our waiter. 

When he arrives, I talk above the guys and quickly say, “Macallan, neat.” 

“Dalmore, on the rocks, please,” Liam says, and Leo orders the same. 

When the waiter turns to Max, he rubs his stomach and says, “You know, a hot cocoa would be perfect right now.”

 What the actual fuck? “No.” I step in. “He’ll have an Old Fashion. Thanks.” A little confused and probably slightly disturbed, he takes off as Max complains. 

“Hey, I really wanted a hot cocoa.” 

“Not happening. First, because they don’t serve hot cocoas here and second because we’re supposed to be out drinking, Beaumont. And you fucking love Old Fashions. You order one every damn time. Stop complaining.” 

“Sheesh.” Maxwell unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. “What’s up your ass?” 

“Nothing.” I push my hand through my hair. 

“It’s a girl.” Leo smirks, causing Liam and Max to practically jump out of their seats.

“A girl?” Liam cocks his eyebrow. “Surely not Drake --permanent bachelor, Walker. My fucking heart can’t take it.” 

Fucking Leo. “It’s not what Leo is making it out to be.” 

“He met her two months ago, and he’s been thinking about her ever since. Magical pussy right there.”

“I swear, Leo; I don’t care for how long we’ve been friends, next time you talk about her like that, I’ll personally break that shit-eat grin off your face”

The clown raises his arms. “I rest my case.”

 “What?” Max’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “Drake Walker doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t duel his friends for a girl.” 

Jesus. Thankfully the waiter brings our drinks at that moment, so I have a second to compose myself. 

“You slept with her?” Liam asks after a swig of Dalmore. He’s been in a stable relationship with Hanna Lee for a year now. Once the most popular guy on school, he now spends his Friday nights curled up with her watching Netflix. I can’t even remember the last time he went out with us. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. The only reason this fuckhead is bringing it up it’s because I went looking for her, and he saw it.” There I said it. Better me than Leo fucking Rys. 

Max and Liam exchange a look, but Max seems too stunned to talk, so Liam asks. “You did what?”

I chug my whiskey and ask for another one. “I don’t know why. I just …” Tired of this fucking conversation, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We had a great time. That’s all.”

 “How come Leo knows about this girl, and I don’t?” Liam complains. 

Max complains too. “Dude, you know I’m the romantic one. Leo over here has a brick for a heart, and Li is too busy. You need to discuss these things with me.” 

“I don’t have a brick for a heart,” Leo says, surprisingly offended. 

“No, you’re just still hung up on Maddie,” I say with a smirk. He shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything. What does it feel, Rys? 

“So . . . who is the girl?” Maxwell asks. 

For fuck’s sake. I might as well get it over with. “I’m going to say one last time that I’m not interested in her anymore, so before your little hearts starts beating wildly for playing cupid, it’s not going to happen.” 

In a snarky tone, Leo replies, “Well, of course, it’s not. She left the country. Are you that bad, Walker? Because I can give you a tip or two.” He’s so fucking annoying. 

“Oh.” Max sighs, disappointed.  

Leo elbows his brother and says, “He hasn’t slept with anyone since.” 

And there it is. The real reason why Leo is worried about this. He lost his wingman. “I’m not an animal, Leo. It’s not the first time in my life that I go two months without fucking. I’m not you. Anyway, all this is pointless. She’s gone.” 

My friends grew up with me, so they know when it’s time to stop pushing. Max interrupts the silence that follows because nothing makes little Beaumont more uncomfortable than a gap in the conversation. “Everything is ready for the party tomorrow night. The thirtieth anniversary of Rys Corporation will be a success.” 

Liam nods. “Regina talked with Hana this morning. It’s the first anniversary since I took over as CEO. I need everything to be perfect.” 

“What about the staff, Max?” Leo asks, smiling. Having sex at every anniversary party is a personal challenge of his. 

“We actually hired someone today. She’s gorgeous.” He turns his head at Leo. “But she’s off-limits.” Leo smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean it, dude. Bertrand said he’s tired of looking for new waitresses. Two quit yesterday morning when they found out that the event was for Rys corporation.”  

“Hey, I never lie. It’s not my fault if they think I’ll call them anyway.” 

“Whatever, just don’t mess with her. Plus, I got to talk to her after her training today. She’s super nice. She’s Am--. Wait.” He says when his phone chimes up. “Sorry, boys. It was a text from Penelope. Apparently, the Chablis hasn’t been delivered yet. I have to call Joelle before I lose my big brother over a wine crisis. See you all tomorrow.” He finishes his cocktail and stands up. 

Liam stands up too. “I should go home too. Han arrived today from Hong Kong.” 

Leo checks his phone. “Wait, Li. I’ll go with you. I have a date with this girl I met last night at Kismet. Do you want to come, man?” He asks me. “I’m sure she has a friend she can introduce you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll finish my whiskey and head home. See you all tomorrow.”

It was only one fucking night. Why can’t I get her out of my head? 

It’s maddening. Or maybe it is a blessing. If I’m still thinking about her after one night, imagine how bad I’d have it after several. It’s best that she stays far the fuck away from me. I’m not interested in long-term attachments of any kind.  I don’t want to think about Lexie Ortiz, but she’s infected my brain. The sound of her teasing laugh haunts me.

And I can’t deny it; it was one hell of a night.

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ALEXIS 

 “This is a single girl’s paradise.” 

“No,” I grimace, trying to clean the spilled tomato sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical beach with a hot cabana boy giving us free massages... and an endless supply of piñas Coladas.” Naomi laughs, the sound almost lost in the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting orders, Penelope and Bertrand panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy business. 

“Cabana boys may have hot smoking bodies and virility, Lex, but they lack two essential qualities: prestige and money.” 

“So, what you’re saying is that you’d prefer an old limp dick over a young hard one? Interesting,” I answer, teasing her. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid dick. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all, and I couldn’t care less. And I’d be treated properly. Rich guys know how to treat a lady.” 

“Trust me on this, Naomi. Money has absolutely nothing to do with how a man treats a woman.” I should know. “In any case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “if you’re looking for old rich guys, there are tons of opportunities out there.” I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s kidding. After my training last night, she invited me to her house, where I met Theo, her little boy. He’s eight years old and the absolute love of her life. 

“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “did you see the Rys brothers? One of them is taken, but the other two are single and oh so yummy. Especially the tall and brooding one. I’ll kill for those smoldering brown eyes looking right at my soul” 

I snort. “You really should stop reading romance novels, Nao. And yes. I served one of them and his girlfriend champagne earlier, but he was blond and didn’t have smoldering, brooding eyes. I thought they were only two brothers, though.”

“Well, technically, yes. But Constantine Rys --the super-rich owner of Rys Corporation-- adopted two other kids. A boy and a girl. They all grew up together.” She uncorks several champagne bottles as she speaks.

Now that my uniform is clean, I grab one of the Veuve Clicquot bottles and help her pouring the cold liquid into the glasses on our trays. “How do you know all of that?”

“I’m Cordonian, girl. The Rys siblings are almost royalty in this country. The one that is not an actual Rys is the one with the smoldering eyes. He doesn’t work for the company, though. He’s a … a vet, I think.”  

A veterinarian like Drake. My stupid heart flutters when I think about him. 

“Do we pay you to work or to gossip, ladies?” Penelope screams from the kitchen door. 

Naomi and I roll our eyes and grab our refilled trays. 

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

DRAKE

“This is a huge night for Liam,” Regina says behind her champagne glass. Constantine has been telling everyone, especially her, that he’s ready and happy to retire, but she knows him better than anyone. Leaving Rys Corporation and pass the torch to Liam is much more difficult for Constantine than he cares to admit.  

“It’ll be all right, Regina. Don’t worry. Liam is more than ready to handle the responsibility.”

She throws a glance at Liam, who’s standing a few feet behind me next to his dad. “I just hope he doesn’t forget that his personal life is equally important. He and Hana work too hard.” 

I’m about to answer when one of the waitresses distracts me. Her back is turned to me, so I can’t see her face, but there is something incredibly familiar about the way she moves. She’s passing drinks amongst Regina’s friends. I want to go and see who she is, but Liam catches my eyes across the room.  We exchange a look, one that we’ve exchanged several times over our lives. It was Liam and me when we were younger, walking into his father’s office after getting into a fight at school. It was the two of us when we came home late, and his parents were waiting in the living room as we walked in, drunk. It was the two of us when we wrecked Leo’s new Porsche when we were sixteen, and right now, I know he needs me. Constantine is a great father, but he has too many expectations for his younger son. Liam needs a break. 

Regina sees the exchange and smiles. “Liam’s very lucky to have you, Drake.” She is not our biological mother, but she loves all of us as if she was. And she’s more my mother than Bianca Walker will never be.  

A couple of men look at me, and I try to remember if I should know them from somewhere. I think they’re both on the board of directors at RC. As much as I love the Rys, I will never get used to this shit. Socializing and pretending to like a bunch of people that annoy the fuck out of me. Ignoring them, I make my way to my best friend. Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking serious and put together like the CEO of the largest company in Cordonia should. 

“I think it’s going well,” he says as I approach. “Father was driving me crazy with all his advice.” 

“It’s not only the anniversary of the company, Li. It’s also his first one as the former CEO. It’s normal he feels out of place.” 

Liam nods. “I know. I just wish he’ll trust me more.”

“He does, Liam. He’s just nervous.”

 I’m cut short by Liam’s grin. His gaze slides right behind me and lights up. 

“Would either of you like a glass of champagne?” a female, very familiar voice nearly whispers behind me. 

“I’m good,” Liam answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you, Drake?”

 I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. Soft curves, tanned skin, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. The brightest, most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Alexis Ortiz tucks a strand of her rich brown hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and I see she recognizes me but doesn’t mention it. Instead, a faint smile ghosts her luscious lips, and she lifts her chin like she has a secret she won’t tell. A secret we share. Her gaze remains on Liam, almost like she’s afraid to look my way. Finally, she turns to me, and when she does, an adorable blush color her cheeks. 

“Would you, uh, sir?” she asks, taking half a step backward. 

“Would I what?” I press, enjoying too much the way her cheeks turn even pinker. 

“Would you like a drink?” The words leave her lips fast like she wants to pronounce them and run away. I take a step towards her, remembering the night she spent in my arms and how damn perfect she felt. I know I make her nervous because I see little goosebumps erupting on her soft skin.  I smirk at her. “That depends on what you’re offering.”

 I shouldn’t be toying with her, but I can’t help it. I want to keep her talking, to watch her reactions, to see that sweet smile again.  

“I don’t have much to offer,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Unless you like champagne, sir.” She emphasizes the last word.

“I like all sorts of things.” I keep my gaze heavy against hers, not allowing her to look away. She fidgets with her tray and swallows hard but never takes her eyes off mine, too rebellious to look away. The longer our eyes match, the hotter my body becomes. She bits her delicious bottom lip slowly, her dark gaze boring into mine. 

“Is that so?” Liam laughs beside me, and I watch her jump like she forgot he was there. Alexis clears her throat and glances around the room. She turns back to us again, this time a practiced smile on her face. The easy grin and soft laugh are both gone. She wants to get away from me, I can feel it, and I understand. She’s working; it wouldn’t be professional. This is not the time or the place to reconnect. Unfortunately for her, I have other plans.

“Gentlemen ...” With a nod, Alexis walks away as fast as possible. She doesn’t look back, but I watch her until she’s out of sight. 

“What was that?” Liam snickers, loosening his gray silk tie. “I thought you were going to jump on her.” 

I rub my thumb over my lip, still surprised as hell.

“That was Alexis, the girl I met a couple of months ago. Now, if you excuse me, Li, I need to go talk to Bertrand.”  

@mskaneko @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @kat-tia801 @no-one-u-know @thegreentwin @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @drakexwillow @moneyfordiamonds 

@yukinagato2012​ @alyssalauren​

[sleeping-lilies]

Title: I Get Tim a Cat Because It’s What He Deserves (oh and i guess a group chat 🙄)

a batfam/wayne family groupchat would literally never happen in canon but it would be so fucking funny you all don’t even know, so i will do it anyways.

the chat just kinda... starts. no one know where it came from. who added them. who??? none of their emotionally stunted asses would be caught dead making making a family chat tf? why can’t any of them leave? they smash their phones and then on their laptop a notification pops up like “you’ve joined ‘x’ group” and they’re stuck there. might as well use it ig, but for what???

“everyone who is alive type ‘i’” no one responds so bruce spends hours trying to find out where their bodies are until he finds out everyone just had the chat on mute

“why isn’t alfred on here” “huh. alfred isn’t on here and no one knows who made the chat?” “so whoever made it just left immediately?” “...” “lol anyways”

tim was trying to send a snap to the core four gc but accidentally sent it to the family chat and gets super embarrassed (of course this happens when everyone’s online why wouldn’t they if it makes tim’s life more difficult) and everyone makes fun of him. duke printed out copies and plastered them all over tim’s apartment while tim was out for something and tim nearly murders duke. after that no one puts the chat on mute because this was too funny.

no one actually, like, texts on a regular basis because they’re not like other families 🙄 they only text if it’s really important or someone’s dying.

that’s being said, “dick where is dog” “send doggy” “dog?” “send doggy” “dick when did you get a dog?” “SEND DOGGY” “i demand you send the dog this instant” “dog now.”

damian breaks into dick’s apartment to take a selfie with him and haley (or bitewing, haley is just shorter to type) captioned “she is mine this is a warning to all of you. i will not hesitate if any of you low lives come near her.” and dick is like “??? this is my dog i can’t have anything these days, siblings take everything, man—” oh ya, everyone reacts to the haley photo with a heart. also dick only lets this shit slide with damian, if jason the problem child pulled this shit it would be on sight lmfaooo

- tim: the dog is cute but, but in photography i learned you have to crop out everything unimportant, like this *crops out damian from the photo*

- in other news, tim joined the dead bats club and now only bruce and duke are left 😃🔪

bruce: check in if you are alive. *everyone’s status is online*

u don’t know about y’all, but my bruce wayne is a responsible father who keeps an eye on his kids, or at least does his best, “has anyone seen duke? he has school and i can’t find him” “i will find him... if you give me $50.” “i will give you the money jason just tell me where he is” jason sends a photo of himself and duke laying down on the floor eating pop tarts.

-“literally why do you all keep coming into my apartment” “our apartment, dick” “i pay for this apartment it’s mine, i keep living in blüdhaven for a reason, god, siblings always steal everything that’s your’s—” it’s ok guys dick simultaneously has eldest daughter’s syndrome and absent sibling syndrome, who is doing it like him? legend behavior. anyways, duke and jason left crumbs on the floor and dick beat them up lmao.

“can i have money” “dad” (theyre sent by same person just different text) “yes cass i will sent you as much as you need, $2,000 is enough for shipping with friends?” “dad can i have money too” “dad can i too” “may i have some too dad” “dad” “dad” fhdjdjsks they only call him dad when they’re dying, want something, or are tattling on each other, someone save him 😩

“@everyone the interviewer in the last segment asked me if we have a family chat and i have a feeling they will try to pry into my texts to see what we are texting, please actually send something so they don’t get even more nosy from our lack of communicating” *someone sends the bee movie script*

ok but like, as time goes on they get more comfy texting each other and acting like a normal(ish) family unit that texts a little more. like tattling.

“someone broke the vase in the hallway and if they don’t want me to tell pennyworth who did it they will buy alfred the cat a new scratching post by nightfall” damian is so funny i love him

“HELPPVHRNXKAK” “what’s up with jason?” “cass is sitting on him” “lol” “i think she’s gonna break his arm fhdjdksk” “ANDBSJ I HAT E YO U A LL” “when did you all come to the manor???”

“😂” bruce vs “lol” dick and cass vs “agdhsjak” tim and duke vs “hA” jason vs “i don’t find any of you funny” damian

“damian i am putting your lemon cake pop thingies in the last bottom shelf on the right, i put the code and everything in the safe” “how often does damian even come to your apartment, dick?” “whenever you’re being an asshole bruce” “he’s always an asshole dickhead 🙄” “exactly 🥰”

“dad guess what” “TIM NOOO” “remember when” “TIM TIM TIM” “you told duke to take the day shift” “I WILL NEVER POST YOUR SNAP PHOTOS TO A GROUPCHAT WITH THE ENTIRE SUPERHERO COMMUNITY AGAIN!!!” “and he agreed to if he did his school work first?” “MERCY, MERCY” “what did he do, tim” “fjdjxkskkz duke goes on school zoom meetings during patrol and pretends he doesn’t have a mic and camera and i was watching his helmet footage and it was so funny, the teachers just believe him when he pretends to have really bad network and can barely type in the chat” “my teachers never trusted me that much” “that’s because you made a kid cry once jason stfu” “wait how did u know that cass—“

“AHDBSNZKAJHF” “stfu duke” “what’s wrong with him where is he?” “cain came to visit” “ohhhh” “FHDJFJDJ HELLPPPXSND” “i know you’re taking a video, you little shit, send it” “no todd come here and take one yourself—or don’t, your presence is unwanted” “fucking brat”

“DAD DICK HIT ME” “DAD JASON’S LYING” *bruce wayne online* (he doesn’t fucking respond fhsjskla) (is it because he’s exasperated with them or crying because they called him dad even though it’s a manipulation tactic or both we’ll never know)

“everyone who is alive, type in chat” *everyone is online* then bruce edits the message to say ‘everyone who wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, type in chat’ “i guess NO ONE wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, how sad” and the entire chat goes wild lmfao

ok uhhh let’s do on a scale of 1-10 texts most vs is online the most

bruce: 6-texting, 5.9-online because he always makes an effort to text his kids to check up on them and when his kids are texting he will text as well here and there in the convo to interact with them because he never sees and interacts with them normally and he wants to do better 🥲. he get’s minus 0.1 because of that one time jason and dick were fighting and he logged off agdhsjnz

dick: 3-texting, 3.5-online because he’s the only one in this hellhole of a family that has an actual job (in this house we uphold gymnastics teacher grayson 🙏) and sometimes he won’t have energy to text. so. but he does make an effort when he can. he’s online more than he texts because he’s able to sneak looks at the fights when he has downtime during his job and wants to see the drama lmfaooo. also everything goes on in his fucking apartment for some reason, so now he gotta break up a (one sided) fight between cass and tim because someone has to be a responsible adult.

cass: 2-texting, 10-online because she watches more than she texts? she’s more content to watch what’s going on than to join in. also 8/10 she’s usually the one causing the drama that everyone’s texting about, like beating up the others, so she can’t text while beating them up. i mean she could, but she wants to put more energy in beating them up (lovingly) (cass is basically violence (loving)) and watching what everyone’s saying about her fights. she’s always online to catch a glimpse at the drama. also most of her texts are to dick to see bitewing. and ask for money.

jason: texting-8, online-4 because if cass is the one causing drama offline, jason’s causing drama online. jason wants to be chat cryptic but texts the most lmfaoooo. he’s antagonizing his siblings whenever he sees them and whenever he can’t, king shit. he’s online less because he deadass doesn’t care that much, he’ll read the texts later if he really wants to, otherwise either duke or tim will fill him in on the drama. (“jason ur in the chat too—“ “shut up, tim, now tell me how cass beat damian’s ass)

tim: texting-6.44444, online-10, see tim texts a lot just not to the family group chat lmfao, he has REAL FRIENDS 😤 uhh ya, that’s why he’s online all the time, cuz he’s either texting his friends or on his phone doing some shit. broke: tim stays up late working on cases, woke: tim stays up late texting his friends and playing video games over chat. tim just. interacts with his family, gets bullied by them, ya. that’s the life. also he and duke keep throwing hands because it’s the family curse to beat up tim and in this essay i will discuss how dick is the superior sibling because he never tried to kill tim—wait he probably pushed him down the stairs once nvm but it was totally justified, king

duke: texting-4, online-4 because he has, like, school. and daytime patrol. and is like a junior in high school and therefore has a fuck ton of homework. my boy has no time for family and he doesn’t want it because they’re annoying, obviously 🙄. if he wants drama he’ll go into damian’s room and get the drama. diy icon. he’s online as much as he texts but is so fast of a reader he’ll know the drama in time for the next episode of wayne family shit. most of his time online is picking fights with tim and roasting his siblings to a crisp. he’s so mean, guys, legend has it that one time duke told jason that his helmet looked like a shriveled up dildo and that it could never be the gay statement he wanted it to be jason went offline for that entire day in order to cry himself to sleep. at least he got sleep (allegedly) ayyy duke the problem solver.

damian: texting-1.5, online 2 because the only time he’s texting is to ask dick for photos of bitewing and to send photos of his pets back as proper payment. a negotiator ugghhh father like son. damian honestly doesn’t care about the drama he just wants to sketch bitewing (using the photos dick sent as reference) into the Family Portrait Sketch™️ of the rest of the Animal Family™️. it is an honor for damian to create such a piece, picasso the women hater quakes in his grave as such art that blows his dog shit “art” FAR out of the water is developing. anyways, he goes online for that and to throw random barbs at his siblings. like no one is online and damian just throws a “drake is stupid” in chat and just dips. he’s online more to text the other teen titans and jon because they’re better than his dumbass family (and he texts grayson on messenger so fhdjdjsks) true chat cryptic, jason envies him

alfred: 0-texting, 10-online. huh who said that

“duke take down the tik toks, tim is crying”

“who has my sweatshirt??? i will kill you all” “i have it jason” “nvm cass that’s your sweatshirt now i’m sorry for being presumptuous don’t aTTACK ME” fhdjdjsks

“guys i have the day off do you want to hear when delilah said to jonathon it’s so funny” “are those the kids in your gymnastics class?” “ya” “tell us everything”

the bats just... love hearing drama about those kids because they’re so dramatic. apparently alex threw a rubber ball at maya and she tackled them. wild.

time for a round of: WHO SAID IT?!?!

“how do i make my text bold like the rest of you?” —bruce, dick, cass, and jason at some point.

“how do i change my screen name? please change it back to before” -cass when tim changed her name to “hal jordon #1 stan” (“what is a stan” —bruce), (“i don’t like it either change it back” —bruce after finding out what a stan is)

“what the fuck is a pog” —jason

“fucking ‘tik tok’. we used to use vine when i was a teen. i was a front line soldier of great disasters” —dick on one hand lmfao dick is so old but on the other hand holy shit you used vine??? tell us more about the battles fought

“what is a dilf?” —bruce after scrolling through twitter

ok that’s all, my brain is gone.

“cass dick is turning purple get off him” “no. make him give me my scarf back.” “oh dad that’s terrible can you send a video as evidence?”

“GUYS I FOUND A CAT AND IT SCRATCHED ME AND IM GOING TO THE HOSPITAL BUT GUYS!!! CAT!!!” “drake send a photo of the cat immediately” lmfao bruce zooms to the hospital after that text

“GUYS THE CAT HAS AN OWNER I CANT KEEP THE CAT 🥲” “the one time you could prove to be of use and you fail, drake.” “wow tim, find a cat to steal without an owner next time” “timmy, timmy, timmy, i can’t believe you’ve messed up in finding a cat again” “again?” “again?” “again?” “when i adopt a cat i’m not showing any of you, i hate you all” (lmao hard version of guess who is who i’ll give you a hint dick cass and bruce are the confused ones. )ok it’s not hard anymore.

“dad please get me a cat 😳🐱 haha jk 🤣😩 unless 👀😏😃🙏🥰” anyways tim named the cat starry because of her fur-hair-thingy

“they just so you all know steph just crashed in my apartment and i have work in the morning” “i will pick her up in the morning” “you mean tim will, you don’t have a license, cass. anyways”

“dick do you need help moving?” “no, bruce, i think i can handle it, donna and wally are helping me anyways, but thank you” “mOVING???” “OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT???” “DICK THAT SAME APARTMENT ON 666 HELLHOLE AVENUE???” “...ya?” “NOOOOO” anyways they all break into dick’s new apartment when he moves in, walk around it, and then leave. they just... ya... damn, these bats...

anyways that’s all. see ya.

[nyctolovian]

Summary: Where Jon and Martin get to grow old together and live out the rest of their lives in a village. Told from the POV of a 7-year-old girl, Trish, who just moved in next door.

Written in preparation for the emotional trainwreck that would be the finale of TMA :”)

Trish peeked out from behind the bushes to look at the cottage. She was new in the neighbourhood, but she had already heard all sorts of stories about it from the other kids she played with. There was a ghost in there, or a wizard, and anyone who stepped foot into its boundaries would be cursed and get kidnapped by a giant clown with claws for hands. 

If you asked Trish, she’d tell you she didn’t believe in stupid fairytales and ghost stories like this. While the other kids still believed in Santa Claus, she already knew that it was just her parents sneaking treats into her Christmas socks. There was no way there was some sort of cursed monster living at the bottom of the hill.

Still, as she stood outside it’s fences, wiping her sweaty palms against her skirt, she gulped nervously. The way the other kids acted as they told her to get the ball because “you were the one who kicked it there!” still scared her. What if there was a bad guy in the house? She was only seven! What could she do?

She ran through several possible scenarios. She’d run. If she couldn’t, she’d kick the bad guy as hard as she could; her aunt had always said she had a good kick. If not, she’ll bite as hard as she can. Or she could–

“Excuse me. What are you doing in front of my house?” came a low voice.

Trish leapt backwards in fright with a squeak. 

Standing behind her was an old man with a stubble in a long yellow dress (woman?), carrying several bags of groceries on her left arm. With her other hand, she wielded a cane. There were pale scars all over her dark skin and Trish wondered if this old lady might have been a pirate. Her dark eyes seemed to stare into Trish's soul as her lips were set in a downwards curl. Her eyebrows were thick and tightly knitted in a permanent-looking scowl. She reminded Trish of Mdm Taylor from school, except older and grumpier.

"I… Uh, I…" Trish shifted from foot to foot, her palms growing even sweatier. "I… My ball…" She pointed towards the ball in the lawn. 

The woman with the beard followed her gaze to the bright pink ball beside the front door. "Ah," she said, sighing loudly. She walked to the front gate.

With her hands full, she had to fumble with the latch for a good minute before pushing the gate open. "There we are," she said. "Get your ball."

Trish blinked. It was that easy? 

She ran past the lady with the beard and picked up her ball. She hugged it close to her chest and looked back up at the old lady, half-expecting her to declare that there was a price for taking the ball back, or that she was trapped here forever. 

However, instead the old lady just hobbled through the gate. Some of her grocery bags got caught between the gate and she let out a groan. Trish's eyes darted between the old lady and the bags before she placed her ball back down, stepped forward and took some of the groceries from the lady with the beard. 

"Oh, um," she said. "Thank you."

"It's okay," Trish replied, lifting the bags and walking towards the front door of the cottage. "I help my Ma take the groceries all the time."

The lady with the beard followed after and reached into the pockets of her dress (which were very deep pockets, Trish enviously noticed). As soon as she unlocked the door, Trish lugged the grocery bags into the house. 

It was a clean house, and it smelled a lot like her Gramma's house. Old people smell, she reckoned. 

"Where's your kitchen?" 

"Over here."

Trish followed after her into the kitchen and she placed the groceries down where she was told. 

"What's your name?" the old lady asked.

Trish froze. Her mother told her not to trust strangers and not to tell strangers her name. But perhaps she had already broken some of the rules since she just walked into a stranger's house. But she wasn't kidnapped yet so it was probably safe.

"I'm Trish."

"Ah, thank you so much, Trish. You have been of tremendous help." The lady with the beard began to pack her groceries away. "Usually, my husband would help me with all this."

"What happened to your husband?"

"He's in the hospital."

Trish gasped.

"He's going to be fine. Don't worry. It's just his knee. He'll be back in a week."

"Phew!" Trish dragged her hand across her forehead. "That's good. What's your name by the way?"

"Oh. My name's Jon."

"Jon?!" Trish shouted. "But that's a boy's name!"

The old lady looked confused. "I… yes? It is a masculine name, I suppose?"

"Are you a boy?"

Jon's eyes widened. "I see. Well… I'm neither a boy or a girl. But I am a he. As in, um, for example, 'his name is Jon and he likes eating peaches.'" 

"How are you both not a boy or a girl though?"

Jon frowned in thought. "I just am. It just happens sometimes for people. Some people aren't a boy or a girl."

"Then, what are you?"

Jon frowned. "I'm nonbinary."

"Non…"

"Non-bi-na-ry," Jon repeated, slower, and Trish followed after. He smiled. "It can be a difficult word to pronounce."

"It's not that hard. I can do it," Trish said, rolling her eyes. Adults always made it seem like everything was too hard for her to do. "Nonbinary! See!"

Jon smiled. It was a small one, but Trish spotted it anyway. 

She puffed up her chest and announced, “I need to go now. Bye bye!"

"Bye," Jon replied, waving his hand.

On the way out, Trish picked up her ball and made sure to close the doors behind her.

***

When Trish next spotted Jon, she was at the market with her father. As soon as she sees him, she tugs her dad's shirt and whispers loudly, "That's Jon at the fruit place. He lives in the cottage at the bottom of the hill."

Her father hummed absently as he picked out the vegetables. "Why don't you go say hi, sweetheart?"

With a nod, Trish headed over to the fruit stand where Jon was. He spotted her before she reached him and gave her a little wave. Today, he is in a button-up shirt and black pants.

"Hello, Trish," he greeted. "Helping your mother out?"

"Nope. My Da's shopping this time." She points to her father, who was still engrossed in examining the vegetables. She peered into Jon's basket and saw that in it, there were apples, mangoes and peaches. "Is your husband back yet?"

"Hm? Yes, he is. But he's resting at home. The surgery did a number on him."

"Surgery?!" Trish screeched. Jon winced at the shout and she muttered an apology.

Forgivingly, Jon shook his head. "Sometimes, when you get old, your joints will get a bit painful so the doctors have to replace it with an implant. He's on the road to recovery now so no worries."

“Implant…?”

Jon took time to explain what that meant. Trish had a million questions swirling around her head and she continued to press him for answers. Unlike a lot of adults, Jon took time to answer her questions to the best of his abilities. 

Trish was about to ask how on earth someone can survive being cut open by another person when someone interrupted them. "Retired to teach primary school children, eh, Jon?" the fruit seller said, folding her arms. "Didn't know you were taking in new students."

Jon scowled. "You know full well—"

"Enough of you," the fruit seller brushed him aside in favour of leaning over her counter to look at Trish. "Heya, pipsqueak. Haven't seen you before."

"I’m not his student… My Ma and Da and me moved in last last week. My Da's there," she said, pointing.

It was also then that her father seemed to have settled the payment for vegetables and came over. “Trish, there you are. Where’s your friend? I thought you went to talk to him.”

Trish tugged Jon’s shirt. “Here.”

Da's eyes widened. “Oh! You’re Jon?” He quickly schooled his expression into a friendly smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. The way she talked about you… I just thought she was talking about her classmate so I was…”

“Expecting a seven-year-old and not a seventy-year-old,” Jon replied, raising an eyebrow. “That’s understandable. I’m Jonathan Blackwood-Sims. Nice to meet you.” 

“Nathan Fujisaki. I’m Trish’s dad. Nice to meet you too.”

Jon’s phone began to ring and his brow furrowed. “Apologies,” he muttered as he placed his grocery bag on the stand before fumbling out his phone. He frowned as soon as he saw the caller-ID and picked it up immediately. “Martin, what’s wrong?” His eyes darted from side to side before he cupped a hand over the receiver and turned away from the rest of them to whisper into the phone.

“His husband,” the fruit seller said. “The two of them fuss over each other a lot.”

"Is that so?"

The fruit seller's eyes lit up with glee at the opportunity to gossip a little. "Yeah. When they first moved in, I was, like, 15? It's a lot better now but back then, the two of them were hardly ever apart. He taught me for a year, you know? And I don't know what arrangement they had with the school but they were practically glued to the hip anytime outside of class."

"So he is a teacher!" Trish exclaimed. "He reminded me of Mdm Taylor so I thought he might be a teacher."

"Yeah, he does have that vibe about him, doesn't he?" the fruit seller said. "Cross about everything and anything. He had that even when he was my teacher. And he was pretty scary back in the day too. Nothing seemed to get past him."

"If you truly believed that, you would know better than to gossip about me," Jon countered as he returned to pick up his grocery bag. 

"How is he?" Trish asked.

Jon winced. "It's… better now. But I should head back as soon as I can." He began to make his move and said, "Take care."

"Would you like a lift?" Da offered. "It's on the way."

"I…" Jon glanced down at his cane before he let out a sigh. "Yes, please. I would appreciate that."

It didn't take very long to fetch Jon to his house. Da gave Jon his contact number in case he and his husband needed any help. Jon stared openly, expression unreadable for a moment, before he gave a brief nod and rushed into the house.

On the way home, Da was frowning. "He seems familiar…" he muttered when Trish asked. "Like I've seen him somewhere before."

***

Stupid Da. Stupid Ma. 

They weren't listening to her. In a fit of anger, she ran out of the house and to the first place she could think of. It wasn't fair, she thought. Trish's lower lip wobbled as she curled harder into herself. 

Suddenly, the door to the cottage at the bottom of the hill opened. A large old man with a thick beard wearing a pair of boxers and a singlet emerged and his eyes fell upon the small girl who had squished herself into a corner of the porch. "Oh my god!" squeaked the old man. "Wh-What are you doing out here? Where are your parents?"

Trish glared up through the tears in her eyes. "You're not Jon," she said, her voice rough from crying.

 "Oh, he's… he's out right now," the man said, smiling apologetically. "Would you like to come in and wait for him? Or, uh, or not. We can wait for him outside."

Trish nodded.

"Feel free to sit in the chair there.”

Trish shook her head. 

“Okay. Would you like something to drink then? We have tea, and milk."

"Milk."

With a gentle smile, the man went back into the house and came out, dressed in a knee-length skirt and a loose shirt. He had also brought out a cup of milk, which he placed in Trish's hand. He went back inside for a moment, before returning with a piping hot cup of tea for himself.

The man limped over to a rocking chair and sat down heavily with a sigh. As he placed his own cup down on the table beside himself, Trish noticed the massive scar on his left leg that ran from his mid-calf up to his knee. "Are you Jon's husband?" she asked. "Martin?"

The man's eyes practically lit up. "Oh yes!" He drummed his fingers against his belly delightfully. "I'm guessing that you're Trish then?"

She nodded.

"Jon's told me a bit about you," he said.

"Are you also non… nonbinary," she said the word slowly to make sure she got it right.

From the look of it, she had because Martin smiled again. "Nope. I'm a man. Just one who finds skirts incredibly comfortable."

"I don't like skirts," Trish said frankly. "They're too wooshy and swishy."

"Perfectly understandable." Martin nodded. 

"Where's Jon?"

"He's doing groceries."

Trish stuck her lower lip out. "He's always doing groceries."

Something between a laugh and a sigh escaped Martin's chest. "He is, isn't he? My poor husband just can't sit still. He has to go to the market once a day or he'll get cranky. Or crankier than usual."

Trish nodded as she took a sip from her cup. 

"So, what are you doing here?"

Trish lowered her cup. "I don't know."

"Did something happen to make you cry?" Martin asked.

Curling in harder into herself, she muttered, "I'm not telling."

"Oh, um… Sure."

"Does it hurt?"

"Hm?" Martin followed her gaze to his knee. "Oh, you mean my knee? It was hurting really badly before I went to the hospital. I mean, it's still hurting a bit now because I'm recovering so I take a bit of painkiller to deal with that. It'll get better soon."

"Does it hurt when they do it on you?"

"Mm… not really? They give you an injection that makes you sleep through the entire surgery. It's kind of when you wake up that you start feeling the pain."

Trish frowned. It sounded a bit unrealistic. How could you sleep through being cut open? She didn’t get the opportunity to ask Martin anything though because, in the distance, a small figure could be seen hobbling towards the house. Martin immediately straightened up. "There he is," he said, before waving. 

Trish followed suit with a big wave of her own, putting her entire arm into it. 

“You have a little visitor,” Martin said as soon as Jon stepped past the gate.

“I can see that very well,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. He made a small detour to their side of the porch to give Martin’s forehead a kiss. Then, he looked at Trish and probably noticed her red-rimmed eyes. "Did something happen?"

Trish frowned. "Ma and Da won't let me have a birthday party. They said it's a waste of time and I'll forget it anyway."

"Oh…" Jon pursed his lips. "Do they know you're here now?"

"No. And I don't want them to."

"They must be worried sick," Martin remarked with a small frown. 

Shrinking into herself, Trish muttered sourly, "Let them."

“I know you’re angry at them and you don’t want to see them right now but it is quite  unkind to cause them needless worry,” Jon reasoned gently. “I shall give them a call, okay? Just to let them know you’re here. I promise I’ll let you stay here until you’re ready to talk to them again. But you wouldn't want them to think you're in danger, right?”

Trish pouted hard, but eventually nodded.

“Right,” Jon said with a nod before heading into the house. He came back out after about 5 minutes with some cut fruits. “We have permission for you to stay until dinner,” he said as he sat down in the other chair with a low grunt. “Now, I hope you didn’t have to suffer Martin’s nagging for too long while I was away.”

“Nagging?!” Martin shot back with an offended voice. “And don’t you think I suffer when you insist on leaving a trail of cups all over the house? Do you think you’re Gretel or something?”

“Actually,” Jon said, knowing full well what he was doing, “Hansel was the one who left the trails.”

Martin groaned comically and Trish giggled a little.

***

“You know what?” Trish yelled as she threw the door open. From the kitchen, Martin made a weird squeaky noise.

“It would be polite to knock. Martin’s already got a weak enough heart already,” Jon chided as he stood up from his sofa and went to the entrance. 

“Oh… Um...” She gently closed the door again before knocking. Then, she patiently waited as the sound of Jon’s shuffling slippers got closer.

“Trish,” Jon said exasperatedly as he opened the door. “You don’t have to close the door again if you’re already inside. We know you’re here.”

“Oh, okay,” Trish said, walking in.

Martin came into view and he was laughing a little. “God, you sound like such a curmudgeon.”

Frowning, Trish asked, “Cur…?”

“A grumpy old person,” Martin explained. “You know, like Jon.”

Teasingly, Jon poked Martin’s rib. “Oh yeah? Is that resentment in your voice, Mr Blackwood-Sims?”

Martin grabbed the offending hand. “Oh, absolutely not. You’re my curmudgeon. I’m not resenting you anytime soon.”

“Sap,” Jon muttered, covering his mouth with his hand, but that did nothing to hide the smile in his voice.

Trish rolled her eyes. “Aaaaanyway,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m here to announce something.”

“Yes, yes, announce away,” Jon said.

But he was making goo-goo eyes at Martin so Trish decided she’d leave the very important announcement of her birthday party for another day.

***

Having chicken pox and being forced to stay in her room for an entire week was already bad enough. But then, it just had to be on the week of her birthday. What’s worse was that Trish had gone and scratched at her skin, and even though it was healed, she had some scars on her arms and face. And she really did not appreciate scars as a birthday present.

Ma chided her for not listening and handed her a bottle of cream to apply over the scars. “If you properly apply it, then maybe it’ll get rid of those scars,” she said.

Not wanting any of the scars to remain, Trish religiously applied the cream every night. But they didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon.

“It isn’t the end of the world if it does leave scars anyway. Look at the both of us! We have scars and we’re doing fine,” Jon comforted her, which wasn’t very comforting.

“It’s okay if you two have scars. You’re old people anyway,” Trish said, popping one of Martin’s freshly baked cookies into her mouth.

“Ouch!” Martin said, sitting down beside Jon at the dining table. “That’s a bit mean, Trish.”

Wincing, she muttered, “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Jon said. He peered over at her arm. "I think it's fading. It's just a bit slow so be patient with it."

Trish nodded. However, even as she sat there talking with them, her index finger kept returning to rub over the most prominent scar on her forearm. The tiny bump of the scar annoyed her and she wished she could tear it out, but she knew that would likely only make the scar worse.

"You know, Trish," Martin said, "it's normal for kids to get scars. We all get scars from at your age too."

"Jon too?"

"I…" Jon frowned. "I don't recall much of when I was young unfortunately."

"How come?"

"Complicated stuff," Jon said, making a vague gesture. "It'd be too long a story to explain."

"Well," Martin interjected, "he doesn't remember his. But I do." He lifted his arm to show the pale jagged patch on his elbow. "This one I got from when I fell off a tree outside my house. I got a kite snagged onto the branches so I had to get it down. It's a bit faded now actually." 

"Yeah, but that's a cool scar. Mine is just from stupid chicken pox," Trish grumbled. Then, she lifted her head. "What about those though? The dot-dot ones both you and Jon have? They're not from chicken pox too, right? They're really big."

"Oh, these?" Martin said, running his hand over the pockmark scars on his face and arms. 

"Yeah. How did the both of you get it? It looks really bad…" Trish frowned. "What kind is it?"

"Um… yeah," Jon said. "It... It was a… bad disease."

Martin sighed. "It was an office-wide infection. From when Jon and I worked in the same place." He then switched the subject by showing a long scar he had on his finger. "Oh, Trish, look at this one. Guess how I got this one? It was kind of dumb. I got it when I was, I think, 5 years old? I stuck my finger into the fan."

Trish scrunched her face. "Why did you do that?!" she shouted. "What if it got chopped off?"

"I don't know to be honest. I was five, Trish. I wasn't a very smart five-year-old."

"Five-year-olds generally aren't very smart," she assured Martin, who threw his head back and laughed.

They continued to talk about scars and dumb injuries for the rest of the afternoon. And by the time Trish went home, she realised that even if the scars remained in the end, she wouldn't be that upset. 

***

As Martin’s knee got better, he began to join Jon’s grocery trips more often. The marketplace got a little bit more noisy on the days Martin went with Jon. 

Firstly, Martin and the fruit seller seemed to have this bit that involved making fun of Jon, even though Trish didn’t necessarily understand most of the jokes. (For some reason, Martin likes to make fun of Jon for liking peaches.)

Then, Martin had what Jon called “itchy fingers'', which meant that Martin liked touching things he wasn’t supposed to. There was this one time when Martin had decided to poke something pink on the side of a carton, which turned out to be used gum. “You’d think you’d grow out of touching things unnecessarily, Martin,” Jon reprimanded as he dragged his husband to the toilet to wash his hands.

Trish just thought they were quite funny.

Sometimes, she would be with Da for groceries when she bumped into them. On those days, Da would talk to them about grown-up stuff that Trish had no hope of understanding. But it was fine since, with Martin at the front seat most of the time, this meant that Trish can lean to her side and whisper to Jon.

Sometimes, Trish would see Jon and Martin walking around together in the neighbourhood. More often than not, Martin joined Jon on his daily trips to the market, and they would slowly walk hand-in-hand. It was during those times that Jon most often had a smile on his face, and at times bursting into uproarious laughter.

Sometimes, Trish would dash over to greet them. People often told Trish that she was a bit too chatty for her own good. But around those two, she felt that maybe it was alright to talk a bit more because Martin would always smile warmly at Trish as she talked about the frog she found on the side of the road or about her stupid homework assignment. Jon, on the other hand, often had something to add to whatever Trish was saying, be it with questions or a weird trivia of his own. 

Of course, there were days where Trish was far too busy to call out to them. It was highly impractical to rush out to them during a game of Hide-and-Seek.

Sometimes though, the two of them would walk especially close to each other, and they’d be whispering, or at least, one of them would be. There were times when Martin looked greyer than usual, and his gaze would be distant even as he ran his fingers along railings, fences, or any surface available. Other times, Jon would look rattled, his eyes darting about and breaths shallow. The non-cane-wielding hand would not be holding Martin’s on those days, instead, it would be tracing the scar over his neck, or twisting his hair in a quiet frenzy.

And then, sometimes, they would sit together on the park bench, holding hands and whispering and chuckling to themselves.

Those were the days when Trish knew better than to disturb them.