#oop I seem to have strayed from the topic

[alpydk]

Eclipse (Part 1)

A 5 minute conversation turned into 2 chapters today. Oops. So here is part 1...

Gale x OC (F) - Some angst, hopefully comfort

As Gale travels the Sword Coast in search of a cure for the tadpole he starts to receive unexpected sending messages from an unknown source. As he begins to question these he finds his memories as not as accurate as he once believed them to be.

Ao3 Link

“I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry. Please come back to me.” 

Gale had spent some time pondering over the sending spell  that  he’d accidentally intercepted  whilst  channelling the weave.  He didn’t recognise the person’s voice or have any memory of someone back home in Waterdeep who might have been missing his attention, especially someone declaring love to him , and yet  somehow, he had ended up receiving the message, disrupting the delicate moment with a friend. During the  moment  he had believed it was simply the interference of the  tadpole,  or that Mystra was being somewhat coy; that was until the next day when similar words spoke out into his mind.

“I know you can’t reply. But know that I love you. Do you remember that day we sat and watched the clouds?”

He lay in his tent going over the details of the spell. He wanted to reply  and  yet  with  no knowledge of whom he was speaking to, he worried that it was an effect of his condition or possibly a trick  of some kind .  Looking  at the clouds.  He hadn’t taken the time to do that since he was a young boy, instead choosing to stay indoors amongst the tomes and scrolls he’d grown to love. There had been very few friends aside from Tara and the mephit, and he couldn’t note any moments of lying on the grass with any other person, let alone someone with some  sort of  infatuation with him. 

Days passed in silence as he trekked with his travelling companions. He’d tried to bring up the topic with Wyll  only  for him to question his sanity at hearing voices that weren’t those of other tadpole-occupied minds. Gale had tried channelling the weave alone from his tent in the hopes of triggering another message, only to have been unsuccessful; this little puzzle taking up far more of his thoughts than was necessary, and yet it was certainly better than the alternative of the orb or ceremorphosis which had plagued him earlier. 

Maybe  it was that  he was  simply  losing his mind from the tadpole or  from  the orb that caused his body to ache day  in,  and   day out.  Maybe too many magic items had finally taken their toll on his body, and this was the beginning of his mind breaking apart. He’d decided he would  just  monitor the issue. For now, at least, he was still in control of his senses , his   skills in combat  were improving after a year of barely casting even the simplest cantrip, and little by  little  he was even starting to make  friends;  A feat he was not too willing to be proud of.

***

The group walked  in silence  under the shade of the weeping willows that basked over the river.  He  could hear the croaking of a nearby frog and watched as it hopped onto a lily pad.  Stop licking the damn thing! The same voice he had heard a week previously and yet different, younger than  it was  before. He laughed at the fractured image of himself holding a  small  pink frog in his hand, his tongue at the ready, the voice adamantly telling him not to do it. Details of the markings on the frog’s back, the small white splotches and the way its yellow eyes bulged ever so slightly stood out so vividly to him  and  he could almost feel the weight of it in his hands, so much detail for something that he could not recollect. He tried but could not seem to envisage the face of the speaker  though , nothing but a distorted shadow standing in front of him, and yet the voice was still as clear as the frog in his hands. 

Astarion swung his head around in Gale’s direction. “Going to share the joke, darling?”

Gale bit his tongue and lowered his head, hiding the smirk. “Oh, it was nothing. Just a stray memory.” A memory he couldn’t trace back to. Who was the person yelling? When had this moment even happened?

***

“Lúthien got admitted to Blackstaff.  Figured  you would want to know. You’d be proud of how well she is doing. We love you. Miss you.”

If only the fight with the hag hadn’t lasted as long. As Gale had received the message, he’d also been hit by a spell  leaving  him winded. By the time he had gotten around to responding, too much time had passed, and the effects of the sending spell had fizzled out, leaving the words as only a new memory to him. 

He had no recollection of anyone with the name Lúthien who was close to him, but still, he thought over it considerably.  He sat by the campsite,  going over the identities of colleagues  and their possible children that he’d yet to find time to meet, but he only drew up blanks.  Maybe it was someone his mother had mentioned at some point as she had gossiped about local women, trying to set him up with a partner. She’d respected his choices during his studying days, young men and women wooed in various ways, but Morena always wanted him to have someone more permanent , she’d  certainly not been too pleased when that permanent choice had turned out to be Mystra herself. 

I  really  wish I could cash a Hold spell on you.  Again, that voice, only this time with a small laugh as his fingers ran through their hair  and  he tenderly kissed the soft skin of their  neck,   as he slowly removed  their shirt with his free hand.  He chased the memory, trying to see the face , trying to  solve the mystery that yet again presented itself in front of him.  The memory faded  in front of  him, and he was left disappointed and confused, only the cracking of the fire taunting him.

***

“Shadowheart, may I ask you a rather personal question?” Gale hadn’t wanted to do this until he had exhausted all other options. He’d tried to trace the spell back but was unable to due to the time constraints; he’d repeatedly tried to ask Mystra for assistance only to be ignored as expected, but it was with his memory now coming into question that he felt it was time to ask for help more locally. 

Shadowheart shuffled uncomfortably near her tent, preparing herself for what  was to  come. “That depends on how personal it is, Gale.”

He smirked. “It is nothing untoward , I  can assure you of that. It’s  in regard to  your memory dilemma.”

She relaxed her shoulders. “It’s not so much a dilemma as it is my life, but what would you like to know?”

“Do you ever find yourself remembering occurrences that  had once been removed ? The voice of a friend, a tender moment, perhaps?”  He let his voice trail off  and  the question lingered for a moment to give her time to think  on what an appropriate answer would be .

“No. No, I can’t say I do. My memories are completely lost to me  as  you already know. Why do you ask?”

Gale’s disappointment with her reply was buried  under his usual positive demeanour. So,  it was  completely  possible that he was   just  going mad, the orb destroying his senses with each passing day or the tadpole chewing at his frontal lobe. “Ah, just a fleeting  curiosity  is all. Pay it no mind.”

She shot him a sceptical look but let the issue die. “Very well. If that’s how it is.”

***

“Darling, you look a tad pale.” Astarion stroked the side of Gale’s face with the delicate pad of his fingertip. “Maybe tonight we should hold off on any activities.”  

Gale sighed.  He’d somehow fallen into this routine with Astarion of late-night soirees, sharing wine and not  really  speaking much before eventually ending up in the forest or  more  comfortably  one  of their tents together .  Tonight  had been no different.  It was   only  as he had removed his robe  that Astarion had chosen  to hold back for once and  begun  to ask questions.  “I’ve just had a considerable amount on my mind recently.”

“Haven’t we all, but isn’t that why we have  been cavorting  in the shadows?” Astarion ran his tongue down the faint markings on Gale’s neck. He’d never bite. Not after the incident last time  but   the way  he heard Gale’s heart rate increase let him know that Gale enjoyed this walk along the precipice  and  so he’d continue to threaten it. 

Gale leaned into the subtle touch,  allowing his eyes to close , his mind drifting to earlier nights of similar sensations .   Such  an undignified position to find oneself in.  Gale was kissing their abdomen, suckling at their flesh beneath him as they spoke. That same voice was haunting him even now.  He tried to bring himself back to Astarion’s touch, to the cold hands that moved further down his body  and  yet  he still felt disconnected  from it all .  

“Love, what is going on with you tonight?” Astarion’s sudden move away brought him back to reality.

Gale pulled at his robe, sitting up and covering his body. “I apologise. Maybe you’re right  and  tonight is not on the cards for us.”

“We could always do something else.” Astarion lay down on the bedroll  trying  to coerce Gale over to him,  not happy  with how the evening had been going. 

“ Hey, I  really  wish you were here right now… Things have just been tough without you. I love you. Miss you.”  

Gale heard the message in his head and instantly began to leave the tent  knowing  now was his only chance to reply. He could hear the confused yell of Astarion behind him  along  with  a few choice words in Elvish. None of  was   important  at this moment  though   as   he  climbed into his tent and focussed on the spell  that  had been  sent  to him. It was now or never if he wanted answers. He thought over what he wanted to say, the words  he  should speak  knowing  whatever answer  he  gave would inevitably invite this stranger further into his life, but he needed to know. “ Who is this? Why do you keep on contacting me? Am I meant to know you?”

***

Despite the day’s requirement for his attention, he had found his mind wandering constantly back to the messages , to the  memories.  He’d tried to apologise to Astarion but received nothing but a disinterested remark and a comment on how their nights together were over, something  that  surprisingly  Gale  wasn’t as bothered about as he’d initially believed he would be. Right now, it was the memories he’d been having that had been provoking more of a reaction within him. He didn’t know what would cause them to suddenly flash before his eyes, only that he longed to have more of them, to feel the connection with that other person more than the touch of anyone else around him. 

Dawn turned to dusk, and he sat alone  waiting  for the now familiar voice to speak  to him . Doubts had begun to creep in more and more as the hours  had passed by   and  he’d started to question again if maybe he had  just  been losing his mind. As he lay his head down, his eyes grew heavy  and  he let sleep take him, wishing he could hear them  once  again. 

The night was full of unrest, moments he couldn’t piece together merging with events of the recent days, laughter and wine shared in rooms he did not recognise, and   the touch of a soft hand upon his chest.  Rook to queen six. I do believe that means I’ve won.  Had he ever lost a game of lanceboard? Not that he could recall  and  yet these words made him smile, a subtle familiarity of the time stirring something within him. 

“ Gale? Is that  really  you? You’re alive?”

The sending spell interrupted his sleep, but he  was unable to  tell where his dreams ended  and  reality began, his body not allowing his mind much further than the partial acknowledgement of the voice speaking to him.

[pebletz]

Short Oneshot South Park fic (TW’s down below before reading)

Hellu friends! I was just sort of lying in bed when this story idea came to mind. While yes, I do love my romance, every once in a while I’m here for the sweet sweet angst/slight mix of horror. I also barely write fanfics but can think of scripts of dialogue for some reason? So that’s the format of this story… oops. Also, the characters can be read as either platonic or romantic, though honestly you shouldn’t be thinking about either for this one, folks.

This is a south park Stan and Kyle short one-shot script dialogue thingy ma jig, and I give you my love right now because in all seriousness, this contains a very dark topic. If you are uncomfortable with what is in the trigger warnings I give below, by all means, DO NOT READ PAST THE MORE LINE. It made me feel a slight panic in my chest just writing this, and I really would hate to have someone go through some dark traumatic memories again. So last warning, it’s about to get real dark, and very uncomfortable.

To the people who are going to read this, I wish you luck, not only for the gruesome topics at hand but also for dealing with my weird mix of both fanfic and theater script dialogue format. I’m also writing this sort of late at night, so if I made some mistakes uh… I’m very sorry. Anyways, this won’t be long, promise.

Stay safe everyone, I love you, and everything will be okay. You got this. Always be sure to ask for help when you need it. <3

-Guppie

TW/ S*icide mentions, graphic g*re mentions, possible derealization(?), anxiety, depression, eyes(?), panic attacks, hyperventilating, mentions of drugs, and finally a weird ass Omori ref I added in for no reason other than I thought it fit .-.

Speechless

Stan: Have you ever thought of killing yourself?

Kyle: …I’m sorry?

Stan: You know, offing yourself. Grab a rope, buy a gun, the end.

Kyle: … *smirks, he thinks it’s a joke* Ah yes, of course. However, I really cannot decide my fate, Stanley. Which method would best accommodate my attitude? *he chuckled*

Stan: *smiles, but it’s forced and dry. Kyle feels like he hears his lips crack.* I’m being serious.

Kyle: *giggles more, and then it slows* …why would you even ask me that?

Stan: *he brushes some of his stray hair back with his hand* You seem different. I can see it in your eyes, the way you smile. God- you’re smoking a pack of cigarettes right next to me on the rooftop of Randy’s barn. You have the biggest eye-bags I’ve ever seen on you.

Kyle: *looks away, suddenly feeling sweat under his collar* “You sure that’s not just because of finals?”

Stan: You haven’t cared about anything this year.

Kyle: …. Stan, if I’m being honest, I- … *he sees Stan’s sad smile and he gulps* I can’t say I’ve been feeling much better than that to be honest..

Stan: … *he takes a hit from his own cigar, eyes dead to the world. That once beautiful sky blue Kyle used to see were now pale in comparison, Stans eyes looked like the mariana trench now. Black. Empty. Devoid of all hope. It’s then his shoulders perk up, but only slightly. He has an idea, Kyle bets.* Let’s do it together, then.

Kyle: *his breath hitches, and suddenly he feels like he’s being pressed into the ground by a boulder* …what..?

Stan: I’m serious. I can figure it out for the both of us and we can just- end it. Together. Like always.

Kyle: …Stan I don’t think we are on the same page here-

Stan: Kyle, I have wanted nothing more than to eliminate my very existence since I was only ten years old. You get how that feels, right?

Kyle: …I-

Stan: whether you are coming with me or not, I’m not going to be here very long. I know it.

Kyle: *he’s full-on sweating now, shaking, panicking* Stan, please- I don’t think this is-

Stan: Kyle.

Kyle: Stan- please let me just-

Stan: Kyle. *he grabs Kyle’s hand, Kyle reflexes and tries to pull his hand back, but Stan doesn’t let him. He puts Kyle’s hand against his own chest.* Do you feel this? This pounding?

Kyle: *he’s breathing heavily, quickly.. it’s getting hard to breathe*

Stan: … Kyle, this- this pounding- it’s all around me now. It’s in my head- it’s- I can feel the ground b r e a t h i n g beneath me. Do you feel it too? Because fuck- Kyle- I need it gone. It’s like the world knows what’s gonna happen. It’s screaming for it. It hurts- it fucking hurts too much. I want to tear out my own organs. Isn’t that just sad? Is that a cynical thing? To want to wipe off every last trace of my existence? Is god a sadist, or am I a masochist? Does he want my blood oozing out, or is that just what they want? All I see nowadays are eyes, Kyle. Like people are watching me- waiting-

Waiting for something to happen?

I can’t take it anymore. Please Kyle- save me- help me…

Kyle: I- you- Stan- *he’s hyperventilating now, vision fuzzy. What’s happening!?* I can’t- bre a th-

Stan: ..Kyle? Kyle!?

Kyle: *everything grows dark as he falls, but Kyle still feels like he’s not alone. He feels the weight of the world crawling on his shoulders. His chest hurts. He looks around, but there’s only silence. What is he doing? Is he going to stop falling? When is he going to hit the ground with a loud crunch?*

…

……

He’s waiting for his end too.

[renegadewangs]

I just saw that post of yours about how you were aro/ace. As an ace person myself, I think that finally hit the nail on the head to me as to why the homumiko dynamic in TLP resonates so well. Rather than being purely focused on romance, it’s based on a solid platonic foundation of two partners that have a solid, supportive, cherished bond. Though it can be viewed as romantic, the focus is more on their platonic compatibility and I relate to that so much.

Oooh, I'm glad you enjoyed that! I headcanon Holmes as ace and very clumsy when it comes to romance, so that's indeed part of the reason why The Legendary Pair focuses more on their partnership and how they complement each other, rather than romantic gestures. The Kissing Men is the only chapter where I outright went out of my way to establish their relationship on a more intimate level, and arguably also the Cardboard Box one as a build-up to that.

I also just think there should be more stories with ace characters in it to begin with, because it feels to me like society places a bit too much importance on sex and physical intimacy as a factor of a healthy relationship. It often feels like it's the narrative 'end goal' of a story about two people falling love. As if third base is what you should be striving for instead of, y'know, a healthy relationship built on respect and care. It also feels like that might be part of the reason why asexuals are often dismissed with remarks like "you just haven't met the right person yet" or "wow you must've had lousy sex in the past". Why do they assume it's something to be 'fixed'? Some people don't like the taste of chocolate. It happens. How you interact with one another in any given moment of the day is the most vital portion of a dynamic in my opinion, and stories should show that more.

But I don't mean to ramble on too much, fasdkljsafd, sorry! Point is, if it resonated with a fellow ace, that means I did my job well!

[bestiesenpai]

firsts with Nanami Kento

I would love to share my firsts with Nanami Kento, my soon to be husband who I hope is free this Saturday, that’s correct this coming Saturday a day that I am free and that he hopefully is also free this Saturday-

First meeting

Nanami Kento, ex jujutsu sorcerer turned ex salaryman turned jujutsu sorcerer once again

Even though he hated working, he still had to do it to survive

When he was a salaryman, Nanami allowed himself a few pleasures in life, one being going to a bakery

But now that he’s back to being a sorcerer, he doesn’t really have the time for that like he used to

Sometimes though, he finds the time to squeeze into a bakery, this time one that’s unknown and unfamiliar to him, but apparently Gojo knows all about it

“Hi Satoru!” A friendly voice calls out as the lanky man steps into the warm building. Kento follows suit, a tick in his forehead already appearing at the knowledge that someone is so familiar with Satoru that they’d call him by his first name. Whoever they were, they could only be as annoying as he is.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Satoru says just as happily, singing your name a little bit as he walks to the counter. The bakery is small with a few tables dotted around, flowers in vases sitting in the windowsills and warm wooden walls.

“I see you brought a friend today.” Only when he’s acknowledged does Nanami look up at who’s speaking. You’re standing there with a kind smile and give him a wave when you make eye contact. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Nanami manages to say smoothly, but the attention you’re giving him makes his chest tighten. You haven’t even done anything special yet he can feel himself getting a little warmer under his collar.

“I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you! Are you a friend of Satoru?”

“No-”

“Yes!” Satoru quickly interrupts, wrapping an arm around Kentos shoulders. “We went to school together.” Giving his shoulder a squeeze, Satoru leans closer to Kento. “Introduce yourself.”

Pushing Satoru off, Kento clears his throat and subtly rolls his eyes. Finding himself unable to make full on eye contact with you, Kento settles for looking at your forehead.

“Nanami Kento. It’s nice to meet you.” He can see you working the name out in your head, and a small smile graces your cheeks.

“Nanami, do you like sweets like Satoru?”

“No.” He replies immediately, eyes drifting down to Satoru who is currently leaning over the display case staring at the confections. “Gojo eats enough for the both of us.”

“That’s true!” The man echoes, throwing a thumbs up in the air.

“Good to know.” You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound Kento’s ever heard. “We make savory food as well, in the other case.” Sweeping your arm to the side, there is indeed another case full of non-sweet treats. “Take your time in picking one out!”

First hangout

He and Gojo didn’t stay long that first day, just a quick stop on their way back to the school

Nanami finds himself looking forward to going to that part of town again though, because he’d like to see you- oop, scratch that not you! The treats! The treats were very good! Totally not you, psshhh where’d you get that idea?

A month goes by before he sees you again, not because he hasn’t been going to the bakery - he has - it’s just you never seem to be there! He goes during normal business hours, but he can’t ever catch you

After a late solo mission, with the sun just beginning to set in the sky and most rush hour traffic having left, Nanami goes to the bakery one more time

And surprisingly, he finds you there

How long had you been sleeping on the counter? You were fully perched on your stool, back bent as your head rested snugly in your arms on the counter. It had probably been a long day of serving customers if you were this tired that you didn’t hear the heavy door open and close, or the chime going off alerting you of a new person.

Kento stood at the counter just watching you for a while. He knew that if someone else walked in, it might be a little creepy for them to see him like this, but if that happened he would deal with it. For now, he was content just looking at you.

Your features were soft and relaxed as you dozed, the apron you usually wore folded up next to you. The creases in your eyes were gone, your mouth relaxed, and the sound of your slow and even breathing filled the quiet room.

Once again Kento wondered, how long had you been asleep? The cases that were usually stocked full were nearly bare, only a few stray pieces of cake or a croissant waiting to be purchased. He almost left the bakery, wanting you to catch up on sleep since you seemed to need it. But instead, he gently shook your shoulder. As much as he wanted to let you rest, he also wanted to talk to you.

“Hm?” With a big yawn and a stretch, you slowly rise to look at Kento with eyes still heavy from sleep. Your eyelids droop closed more than once before you take another deep breath and rest your hands on the counter, back still bowed. “Na-Nanami?” Your eyebrows scrunch up from trying to remember where you were and who was in front of you right now.

“Hello.” His hand remains on your shoulder even though he has to bend forward slightly now. His face is neutral and his eyes are searching you.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Another yawn, and you rub your face drowsily. Kento lets out a little grunt, he thinks it’s cute the way you rub your eyes and sit up further, trying to wake yourself up again. “How long have I been sleeping?” Stretching your neck, you look at the clock behind you and out the window.

“Not too long.” Kento looks outside as well, and notices it’s begun to rain. Your chuckle brings him back to you, and his heart stutters a little at the mischievous look on your face. “What?”

“I heard from Satoru that you’ve been looking for me. Coming to the bakery a lot to come see me.” Kento makes a noise in the back of his throat and his cheeks begin to go pink. “Did you miss me, Nanami?”

“I-” It’s no use, his cheeks are still getting darker. “No comment.” You burst into full laughter and Kento hangs his head, regretting the past month so much he could turn and leave the cafe.

“Well no need to worry, I’m here now!” Throwing your arms open, you hop off the stool and lean against the case housing the savory goods. “Now, what can I get for you?”

“Where were you?” He says instead. If he’s been caught red handed, he might as well keep digging his grave.

“My sister had a baby! I saved up all my vacation days so I could be with them!” You smiled brightly. Digging your phone out of your pocket, you showed him a picture of you holding a baby in your arms.

“Cute.” He wasn’t sure what was cuter, you with the baby, the baby by itself or just you. As he looked more at it, Kento found himself imagining what it would be like for you to be carrying his baby. Would you even want to start a family? Or perhaps-

“Nanami, are you okay?” Your question broke him out of his little fantasy.

“Huh?”

“Your face got all red, is it too hot in here? I can turn a fan on if you want.”

“N-no.” Clearing his throat, Nanami shook his head. “No. I’m fine.” Finally turning his attention to the case, he looked at what was left. “I’ll have that one.” Pointing to the first thing he saw, he’s surprised you know exactly what he meant.

“Do you want to take it to go? It’d be best for you to get home quickly since it’s raining!” The night sky had fully blanketed the world outside, a nice curtain of rain along with it. Kento didn’t need to think over his decision. He’d be going home in the rain either way, what was the use in just going back to an empty apartment?

“I’ll eat it here. No sense rushing out into the rain to just be alone at home.” With a shrug, his suit jacket came off, and he could see the way you looked at his arms as he pushed his sleeves up. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t fall asleep again.”

A little peep left your lips and your face burned with embarrassment. Kento grinned, chuckling to himself and tossing his jacket on a chair near him.

“I’ll have a coffee too, just a small black.”

“No way!” You puff out your cheeks in indignation. “Coffee will keep you up all night! I’ll make you some tea.” Kentos mouth falls open, a little surprised you stood up to him like that. You pay him no mind, turning your back to begin brewing his tea. Closing his mouth, Kento takes a seat in the chair with his jacket.

“Alright, I’ll have tea then.”

First confession

Nanami ended up staying the whole night with you in the bakery, until you had to close

You left the counter and sat with him at the table with your own cup of tea and a seemingly never ending slew of topics to talk about

You were like Gojo, but much more tolerable. A person Nanami could respect, and much cuter than Gojo as well

Somehow, the night had ended with him getting your number, and although he made no promises about being a good correspondent, you still insisted

Any friend of Gojos was a friend of you, apparently

Sometimes you messaged him things about the bakery and he did his best to respond in a timely manner

Others he took the initiative and would message you to ask about your day in the evening or if you were working during the day so he could come see you

And on the lucky chance you were working early in the morning and he had nothing to do, he went to see you

“Hi.” You nearly sang the word when you saw him. He was the first customer of the day, a great way to start an early morning shift.

“How are you?” Kento asks, a soft smile also on his face. Walking right up to the counter, he sees the way you lean against it to be closer to him.

“I’m good! Excited too, we got this new seasonal item.” Your eyes are practically sparkling and with a grin Nanami hums and nods for you to continue. “I know you don’t like sweets, but I really want you to try-”

“(Y/N)!” A crass shout interrupts you and the slamming of the bakery door against the wall makes you jump. Immediately, both you and Kento are looking at the intrusion; Kento in annoyance and you in slight fear.

There are three men waltzing up to the counter, all of them with scary expressions on and clothes that reek of nicotine. The one that had yelled at you was a man with a scar on his lip and a shaved head, tattoos peeking up from his shirt collar. The other two behind him look just as scary, if not more.

“W-what- what do you want?” Kento doesn’t miss the way you’ve started to shake and he takes a subtle step closer to the counter.

“I just wanna know why you’re not returning my calls, that’s it!” This man shouts even though he’s close enough that the sheer volume of his voice makes you flinch. Balling your apron up in your fists, you try not to cower away as he gets right up against the counter.

“I t-told you I-I don’t like you!” You try to raise your voice as well but it doesn’t work. Everyone can see that you’re scared, the trembling of your voice is just more proof.

“Yeah? Well I like you.” The man goes to slap his hand against the counter, but Kento catches his wrist before he can. “Hey, who the fuck are you?”

“A customer that doesn’t like the disturbance you’re causing.” Kento lets the man's wrist go when he pulls on it. Sizing the man up, Kento knows he can take all three of them without an issue, it would be as easy as getting up in the morning. Taking a look at you however, he wanted to avoid causing you anymore distress.

“Like I give a fuck, salaryman.” Flipping him off, the man turns back to you. “Now you li-” Kento punches the man in the face before he can keep talking, sending him flying into the other two.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to (Y/N) like that.” Raising his fists, Kento easily takes down the other two men that charge at him, and he doesn’t break a sweat doing it. The fight - if it could even be called one - lasts all of two minutes.

Making sure the men on the ground won’t move, Kento looks at you. There’s slight tears in your eyes and some on your cheeks and you’re still shaking, but you don’t look as scared as you did. Grabbing the man that had harassed you, Kento forced him to his feet.

“Apologize.”

“As if I’d-” The man starts, but Kento has no patience anymore and swiftly punches him in the liver.

“Try again.”

“I-I’m sorry, (Y/N)!” Choking the words out, the man looks at you with blood in his eyes. “If this psycho is gonna hang around you now, I don’t want any part of you!”

“Good answer.” Dropping him to the floor, Kento kicks him towards the door. “Now get out of here.” He doesn’t have to say it twice for the men to leave. As the door slams closed, Kento hears you break into sobs.

“N-Nanami!” You whine and sob out his name, drawing the last syllable out. Looking at you, Kento coos under his breath seeing your balled up fists near your eyes.

“It’s okay.” He says, watching you walk around the counter and stand in front of him.

“Th-ank yo-you!” The thanks you’re trying to give him barely sounds like real words and in any other situation he’d be embarrassed for you.

“It’s okay.” He says again with a soft sigh, pulling you closer until your head is resting on him. Rubbing a soothing hand on your back, Kento lets you soak his jacket and his shirt with your tears for as long as you need. And by the time you pull away from him, he’s full on hugging you, and you’re hugging him back.

“Sorry.” Your eyes go down to his stained shirt.

“Don’t mind it.” Shaking his head, Kento slowly lets you go. “Who was that, anyway?”

“Just some guy who asked for my number like a week ago.” Wiping away the last of your tears, you look out the window in slight disgust. “I had no idea he would get so...aggressive when I turned him down. It’s not my fault I don’t want to date a criminal.”

“Has he been calling you a lot? He said you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah, I blocked him but he kept calling from different numbers.” Your breathing is back to normal now, the tears that made your lashes cling together were finally drying.

“Give me his number. If he causes you trouble again, I’ll handle it.” Kento holds out his hand, not giving you very much of a choice in the matter. But after seeing how easily he took them down the first time, you weren’t about to withhold it from him.

Ten minutes later, after making sure you’re completely fine and calm, Kento makes an order. He takes two of the seasonal items you’d mentioned, not that he’ll eat both, but he wants to make you feel better.

“I’ll be back to walk you home.” Kento says as he’s leaving, ignoring your shouts that he doesn’t have to. He’d rather not risk those guys following you or doing anything shady.

True to his word he comes back when you’re done for the day, waiting outside for you. When you come, he makes sure you’re standing close to him along the way. It’s silent at first, just the sounds of other people walking by and some traffic one street over filling the air.

“Thank you again, Nanami.” You say as you stop at an intersection. You’d messaged him thanks throughout the day, but it still didn’t feel enough. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to do that sort of thing!” Neither was he. It just happened, a snap decision he made to protect you. He liked you, and seeing you shake like that was something he never wanted to see again.

“I’d do it again.” Is what Kento says, looking up as the sun burns orange-yellow streaks across the sky. “I really like you, and I don’t want that sort of thing to ever happen again.” He lets out a sigh, looking at you from the corner of his eye. People are walking around you, but neither of you make a move to cross the street. “If it’s not too much to ask, don’t talk to any other guys, okay?”

Your eyes widen at his question, lips quivering to fight back a pleased smile. You open your mouth once, twice, before closing it and biting your lip, a shy giggle coming out.

“Okay.” You say with a nod.

“Good.” Lowering his head, Kento softly grabs your hand in his. “Let’s get you home now.”

First date

Even though he’d confessed, the two of you had yet to go on a proper date

Nanami was sweeter to you now, holding your hand on your walks home when he came to get you and he’d hug you if you asked(one day he’d take initiative and hug you first lol)

He wants to ask you on a proper date, but he’s worried that you’ll find him boring

The opportunity arises, however, when Gojo texts you from his phone and sets up a date for the two of you in a park, a picnic date on a day he knows Nanami has off

“K-Kento!” You wave at him as you both approach the park from different ways. You’d only just started saying his first name and it made you feel shy every time you did. “You’re dressed so casually!” Gone was his normal suit and tie, Nanami had on a looser button up and some sensible jeans.

“You look nice too.” Kento smiled, he had seen pictures of you not in your uniform, and sometimes you changed out of it after work, but this was the first time you were dressed with the intention to be cute. He could smell the perfume you were wearing as well, wafting pleasantly through the air and surrounding him when he sits down on the blanket you laid out.

“You know, I was surprised you asked me out on a date.” You say shyly as you both settle down.

“I didn’t.” His answer has you confused and you halt your actions. “Gojo did it for me. I was going to do it myself but...I thought you’d think I’m boring.”

“Never!” Your hand lands on top of his and you shake your head. “You’re not boring at all!”

“Hm, okay then.” Nodding at you, he motions towards the basket you’d brought.

“I made treats at home, look!” Excitedly, you take out the food you’d prepared. It’s all wrapped up cutely in butcher paper, and there’s some smiley face stickers keeping the paper together.

“It looks great.” Stretching out his legs, Kento leans his upper body close to you, nearly resting his head on your shoulder. “You did a great job.” He can smell you even better, the heat of your skin is just barely reaching him.

“You haven’t even tried it yet.” With a bashful little laugh, you unwrap a sandwich you’d made and give it to him.

“I can just tell.” Taking it from you, Kento lets himself rest on your shoulder.

First kiss

Sometime during the picnic, after eating, Nanami finds himself a little tired

It’s so relaxing being out with you, and the afternoon sun is just the right temperature for him to slowly slide from your shoulder onto your lap and doze off

Your hand cards through his hair, gently massaging his head and pushing him deeper into slumber

With his body laid out, Nanami doesn’t even realize he’s asleep until a sharp scream from a playing child rouses him, but he keeps his eyes closed in hopes he’ll go back to sleep

There’s a soft pressure on his forehead, you’re bending down over him and the light filtering in through the tree above you is blocked out for a moment before you’re sitting up again. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you kissed his forehead.

Cracking an eye open, Kento grins at you when you make a surprised noise in the back of your throat and look away from him.

“I-I didn’t know you were awake.” You mutter, embarrassed at being caught. You wouldn’t have kissed him if you’d known; you were too embarrassed to ask for a kiss, and you weren’t sure if Kento even had an interest in taking your relationship there.

He doesn’t answer, instead taking a deep breath through his nose and sitting up slightly. With a light hand, Kento turns you to face him. He doesn’t get up all the way, but as soon as your face is close enough he pushes up a bit more and kisses you properly on the lips, feeling the smooth glide of your lip balm.

When the kiss breaks, neither of you open your eyes for a while. Kento just keeps his face close, brushing his nose against yours a few times before giving you another peck and then laying down again.

“You don’t have to be shy (Y/N), I want you to kiss me.” He’s keeping his eyes closed now, not because of the sun but because his cheeks are blushing and he knows you can see. His arms that were previously at his sides come to cross his chest, and he pushes his head further into your lap. “We’re dating now, so just do what you want.”

A soft gasp is heard above him and Kento grins when you giggle and brush his hair again.

“Okay.” Leaning down, you give him a firmer kiss on the forehead, and one of your hands grabs his.

“Okay.” He echoes, pulling your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. You squeeze it tightly and giggle again, overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness. Letting out a yawn, Kentos small grin gets even bigger when you cup his cheek and he opens his eyes to look at you. Suddenly, he’s not so tired anymore.

[etherealino]

mixtape: on track – scb

synopsis: “i can’t let you go, how can i ever let you go?” 

genre: idolverse!au, post breakup!au, radio dj!reader, angst, fluff uwu

warning(s): one curse word. changbin went ooc, oops.

word count: 3423

a/n: i had this plot since forever and when mixtape: on track was released, i realized it fit changbin so well. djbdjsdj,,,,,, hope this doesn’t suck :]

“First song of tonight, my people, Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. Just send in your requests, problems or if you just wanna say hi, just mention me, @/sleeplessy/n.” You said through the microphone and you lowered the volume of the microphone, muting it as the song played through the whole station—in every radio, that is.

Every night, all you did was talk about everything that comes into your mind—you’re good at it, actually. Plus, to everyone seeking advice comes to you, one of the reasons why you can’t lose topics to talk about. That was your job. From 11 pm to 3 am, for four hours that’s what you do.

This was your job ever since you broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years. Your boyfriend was none other than Seo Changbin of Stray Kids. You two were so happy, you were sure of it. Changbin was making you happy, you were making him happy. You knew you two were drifting apart when fights became a sudden routine every night, shouting until voices get hoarse. Then just this one night, Changbin came home, he picked a fight with you probably due to how stressed he is and he took it out on you. You two were on each other’s throats once more, when suddenly you shouted, “You know what? Let’s just break up. It’s best for the both of us.” You know you should’ve took it back when you saw Changbin’s expression fall, but then he glared at you again, but you still saw the tears pooling in his eyes, even though he shouted back, “Fine! I’ll pick my stuff up tomorrow.” Then, just like that, he left.

And ever since then, you can’t sleep properly. So you thought, it would be nice to look for a job instead of stressing over on how to sleep. And here you are, Sleepless Night with Y/N from 11 pm to 3 am—you became everyone’s favorite DJ in just a snap of a finger, it’s crazy when you think about it. You always loved the idea of being a radio DJ, if you were being honest. It’s been two months since you and Changbin broke up, and ever since then, you never listened to Stray Kids anymore, knowing you would just end up going to YouTube and binge his videos and fancams all day long—then cry.

You heard that Stray Kids have been having soft concepts lately, different from their usual concepts, and sometimes—a lot of times—Stray Kids’ songs were everyone’s requests, but you pretended not to see. Stray Kids would always have a guesting in your station, and you knowing the schedule would not go to the time allotted for them to avoid seeing Changbin. It’s been two months, but you were still undeniably hung up on Changbin. Everyone could see right through you.

“Once again, people, that was Song Request by Lee So Ra, featuring BTS’ Suga. How have you guys been? Still can’t sleep according to your tweets.” You said as you let out a small chuckle. You scrolled through the computer in front of you, looking at the tweets that were sent in as you talked about nonsense. “Shout out to some users that says they want to be in a relationship asap. Take your time, my people, savor it while it lasts instead of rushing, hm?”

Truth be told, you were looking for a certain user. This user would always say hi, giving you an update on what happened in their day. It would always end with, “How was your day? :)”. They would always tweet something that cheers you up. They would just randomly tweet you heart memes, even at daytime. Weird enough, even though you followed this user, they never sent you a dm. There was this weird feeling at the pit of your stomach that wants you to send them a message, but you also didn’t want to. So, you let it be. 

Weird enough, they never sent anything today. You frowned, going to their profile, refreshing the page but nothing. It’s crazy when you think about it, missing someone you never met at all. But there was just something about this user that gravitates you towards them.

 You didn’t even notice at all until your phone silently went off, vibrating, serving as a signal that it was already 2:30 in the morning. You have 30 minutes to wrap up the show. You always have that alarm or else, you will get carried away and you don’t want to ruin the schedule. “Time check, it’s now 2:30 in the morning, my people, send in your problems and I will try my best to give you the best advice I can.” You announced. Your Twitter blew up and you scrolled and scrolled. You went back up, refreshing your notifications. And finally, your favorite user has sent you a tweet. But it was different from their usual tweets. “From user sleeplesscb,” you announced. It was honestly unusual, they never send in a problem to ask for an advice, so you were kind of worried for them. “Hi, DJ Y/N, I used to have a girlfriend, she really means a lot to me. It’s been awhile since we broke up but I can’t seem to let her go. I really wish I could turn back time to take everything back so we would still be together.” You read. You sighed, biting your lip. “Well, user, if you really do love her, let her know. If you’re lucky, she might feel the same way as you. Tell her how you feel, make her feel loved and do everything you think you should do before you regret it.”

What if this is Changbin and he wants to—

 You pushed the thought away, shaking your head as you bit your lip. It couldn’t be Changbin—it’s impossible. Changbin’s too busy for stuff like this. More importantly, Changbin would never feel that way. You just have to accept that your once shared love with Changbin is just now one-sided.

 “If you end up really doing what I just said and doesn’t end good, you can hunt me and shoot me down.” You chuckled as you refreshed the page once more and you saw that the user sent another tweet saying, “Can you play Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids? Heard that the group’s rapper, Changbin wrote it and it’s how I feel.” You bit your lip. Are you ready? You inwardly sigh, giving yourself a nod. Just this once, for them. “Since it was your problem that I gave advice, I suppose I can grant your request.” You announced, searching the song to play it. You took a deep breath before announcing, “Here’s Mixtape: On Track by Stray Kids.” 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got.

Just that line. That single line was enough to make tears pool in your eyes. Changbin’s voice went through the whole station and you muted the microphone again to prevent any noises to be heard—your sniffles, to be specific. You listened to the whole song. Just like what you expected, Stray Kids are still great—greater, even. But the fact that Changbin wrote this song made your heart flutter. He probably wrote it after your breakup, but you refused to listen. Funny how the universe just finds way to make you do what you’re supposed to, even if you’re against it. Did he actually write this for you or he just got an inspiration out of it? You don’t know, but it feels nice to hear the boys again—Changbin, especially.

 You feel like jumping and throwing the things around you when Changbin’s part, “I can’t let you go.” came. You wanted to scream. You felt that. Changbin put so much emotion into this song, more tears streamed down your face and you sighed. Then it was followed by Felix repeating it. Then another line from Changbin, “How can I ever let you go?”

“Yeah, how could you?” You whispered as you aggressively wiping your cheeks as if you were actually talking to Changbin. By the last line, it was Changbin again, he changed the first line to “I know it because I’m a fool and can’t live without you.”

You really wished he really did write it for you. You wanted him back more than anything. How could you be so stupid to yell those words that led to your breakup?

When the song was finally done, you finally turned the microphone on.  “And that’s it for today’s show everyone. I feel like I was a little bit boring today, it was tiring today after all. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow!” You said through the microphone and to your surprise you actually sound stable as if you weren’t a crying mess just before. “Time check, 2:55 in the morning, may you finally sleep in peace after a whole night of soft love songs. Tune in again tomorrow—or later tonight, rather for more advices, blabbering about whatnots, and songs to play for your situations as cheesy as that sounds. This is DJ Y/N, signing off, leaving you with Day6’s I Smile. Good night, everybody.”

And just as you said, she played Day6’s I Smile and queued more songs that are enough until the next program which would be at 8 am. You turned the microphone off, removing the headphones off your head as you neatly placed it to where it belongs. You went out of the studio room, the radio producer smiling at you. You closed the door behind as you went to pick your bag and coat. “I’ll see you tonight.” You said to her and she smiles.

“You did great today, just like always.” She said with a smile and you bowed, thanking her for the compliment. “Stay safe, take care driving.”

“Yes, stay safe, too.” You said as you waved bye to her. You exited the building of your radio station, going to the parking lot, ready to go home. You climbed in, starting the engine on as you decided to listen to the songs you’ve queued. The drive home was peaceful. City lights and soft music as you drive at the middle of the night; just your aesthetic, this was what you used to do with Changbin. Yes, Changbin was still at the back your head. You really wanted to know if it was for you. But other than that, you wanted to know how is he doing. Did he go through the same as you did? Was he better now? How is he? Did he find another person to finally replace you?

As you arrived home, a soft sigh escapes your lips. Why were you thinking about Changbin again? Oh, because that’s what you always think of every night. Can he sleep peacefully every night unlike you? Can he move around without thinking about you? Does he listen to your program every night?

Anyway, you got off your car with your coat and bag as you arrived in front of your house. Head down as you fiddled with your keys, walking up to your doorstep. You sigh. You were tired, but you were not sleepy. You have this tendency to be a bit clumsy when tired. So, as you were walking to your doorstep, you dropped your keys. You sigh loudly, bending down, sitting on the back of your legs to pick it up.

But someone has beat you to it.

You looked at the shoes in front of you, freezing. His scent finally filled your nostrils, his hand that was holding your keys out for you, the oversized black hoodie. You’d know those anywhere, everywhere. You bit your lip, looking up at the person to confirm if it really was him. And it was. You don’t need any confirmation to know it was him. Just his scent alone was enough to prove that it was him.

You shakily grabbed your keys, standing up as you look into his eyes.

Was it really him? Or did everything got into your head that it led you into imagining things?

He breathed out as if he was nervous, then he spoke, stuttering, “H-Hi.”

It really is him. It’s Changbin. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled, not being able to properly process what’s happening. Why is he here? Is he here to get the shirt he forgot to take with him? Psh.

Changbin clears his throat, looking at the ground then up to you. “The DJ in the radio said, I..” Changbin trails off as he tries to find the right words. “I should tell you how I really feel about you, and.. I..” Changbin trails off once more, being really nervous as he avoids your eyes.

Woah, wait. 

Your eyes widen as you look at Changbin. “That user was you?” 

Changbin looks up, nodding as he says nothing. You bit your lip, but a soft chuckle escapes your lips. That’s why you keep on gravitating towards the user. Seriously, how does the universe does that? You looked at Changbin who was looking down as he breathed out, trying to find the courage to speak up to you.

“Fuck it.” Changbin whispers to himself then turns to look in your eyes. Then he started to speak, “Firstly, I’m sorry for taking all the stress out to you every night when we were still together. It was really shitty of me to do that. I’m sorry I wasted the chance you gave me. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for failing your expectations on me. I’m sorry I never became the man who you wanted. I’m just.. sorry for being shitty at showing you how much you mean to me. You should have someone who would love you the way the universe wants you to be loved—the way you deserve.

“I’m in a very big risk right now—we are in a big risk right now. Anyone could be somewhere here, take pictures of us and expose us, but I don’t care. But if ever we get into trouble because of it, I will protect you even if I’m at risk. I just want to let you know what I’ve been hiding for the past two months. It was eating me up. I was just happy on making you smile through the memes I send, through the little messages I sent, but I craved for more, Y/N. I want you back.

“I was in love with you. We were happy but we suddenly drifted apart because of me and my stupid pride. I knew better than that, but still I picked a fight with you almost every night when all you did was try to calm my nerves. I shouldn’t have let it get that far for you to yell those words. Up until now, Y/N, I’m still in love with you. You’re always here. You’re a part of me, Y/N. Every minute of every hour, you’re all that I think about. It bothers me to think that what if you already found someone else. Every time you giggle through the radio because of my messages, I regret my actions of letting you go just like that even more. I love you, Y/N. I still do.”

Changbin finishes with nervousness swimming in his eyes as he looked at you, but you only blankly stared at him. He knows that look. You’re not interested anymore, he thinks, but he was so wrong. He’s the only thing you wanted, nothing else.

“Before anything else, I know you haven’t been listening to our songs, considering you never played any of our songs despite a lot has requested and it’s impossible for you not to see it. But what I’m trying to say is, the song I requested was written for you.” Changbin says as he nods as if he was approving into his words, thinking he said the right words. He looks at you, who still blankly looked at him. “You.. can hit me now.”

“I can’t believe it was you.” You mumbled as you looked down, then to your side—everywhere but Changbin. Changbin chuckles nervously.

“I thought you were going to find out since I put my initials at the end.” Changbin said. Right. The ‘scb’ in the end. You were a bit oblivious to things. Okay, you just didn’t want to get your hopes high.

“How’d you know I have a radio program every night?” You asked as you look at him.

Changbin shrugs, looking at the ground. “Stress was getting into me, so I went out to get a bit of fresh air. Drove into the city in the middle of the night, around 1 in the morning, just like we used to. I turned the radio on and then I Loved You by Day6 was playing. I decided to stay on that station for a bit because it was one of your favorites. And then, I heard your voice.” Changbin explains. He looks at you, biting his lower lip, then he softly adds. “You know I know your voice anywhere—everywhere.”

You lick your lips, looking at the side. You shake your head lightly as you feel tears pool in your eyes. “I hate you.” You mumbled, just as the tears have cascaded down your face. Changbin looks at you, lowering his head as if he was ashamed.

“I know.” Changbin mumbles back.

“I hate you for making me love you so much. Why is it so much easier to love you than hating you? Up until now, it still feels like the first day when we broke up.” You said, wiping your tears off. Changbin holds himself from reaching out to pull you in his arms.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Changbin apologizes and he looks into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you to forgive me, I really will.”

You cock your head to the side lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?” You repeated, asking with emphasis. Changbin nods as he looks at the ground, not being able to say anything knowing where would this lead to. He can seriously imagine you saying ‘Never show up to me ever again.’ He was so scared, but if it would make you happy, he’ll do it. 

“Stay with me.”

Changbin’s head snaps up, eyes looking into your tear-filled ones. Stay with you? Didn’t you hate him? “Objections? Hey, let me tell you, I got this job because I didn’t want to dwell into stressing myself because I can’t sleep. So I said, why make a job out of it. You know why I can’t sleep?” You said and Changbin shakes his head. “Because I can only properly sleep with you beside me. You owe me two months of peaceful sleep!” You pouted as you told Changbin these things. Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle, smiling at how you suddenly turned cute. “Stay with me, Changbin. Please.”

Changbin cautiously takes a step, and when you don’t take a step back, he takes this a sign that he can pull you in his arms for a hug. So, he did. Changbin wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrap your own around his torso. You laugh lightly through your sniffles, finally feeling complete after two months. Changbin kisses your temple, keeping his lips there as you tighten your grip on him. 

“Every night, if you want.” Changbin mumbles.

After two months, you finally slept properly and peacefully again. When you woke up, Changbin was already awake, playing with your hair with a wide smile on his face, giving you a kiss on your nose, forehead, cheeks and finally on your lips. You two were back and you were sure that you two are stronger this time. The universe really does have a funny way to make things right again. And as you are working, talking about the most random things, your eyes shift outside the studio where the waiting room is, you see Changbin watching you with a smile on his face. He gives you a wink, lightly raising his fist, mouthing, “Fighting! I love you.”

“A great person just told me that you deserve to be loved the way the universe wants you to be, so don’t rush into anything, the right person is just there.” You said through the microphone with a wide smile.

You mouthed back, “I love you, too.”

sksks when changbin sang that did you feel that? i cant relate and i felt that.

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar (Ch. 11)

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.10)

Chapter 11: Thoughtful *Check end notes for a bit of extra content!

It had been some years since Amy seriously studied and read the cards. There was a time when she would perform daily tarot pulls first thing each morning, reflecting on a goal for the day and reading a single card for guidance. It was rare that her insights led her astray, but the entire practice had fallen to the wayside in the past two years. Her friends found her uncanny predictions too eerie and refused to indulge her any further. Without anyone to share her talents with, Amy became dispirited with fortune-telling, and her interest faded over time. Now, ever since she’d taken the opportunity to recount her earliest readings with her house guest, Amy began to doubt her ability to interpret the cards at all. After years of convincing herself that patience and perseverance would manifest her romantic intentions to no avail, she decided it was finally time to revisit and reinterpret that faithful hand. 

Though she’d never gone, Amy knew of a semi-annual gathering of fortune-tellers and spiritualists that occurred on the equinox. Spring equinox was just around the corner and it was there, Amy hoped, she could find some additional wisdom and guidance. But first, it was time to get reacquainted with her favorite deck. 

Amy looked at her nightstand. A sunny tulip rested in a jar over a ceramic coaster. She pulled a deck box from the drawer, clearing a thin film of dust from atop its wooden frame. She set off on the ritual of cleansing and charging that had so long been neglected before finally preparing for her daily pull. A shuffle and an affirmation later, Amy picked the top card from her deck with a nervous breath. The Page of Cups. Creativity, intuition, and the inner child.

A nostalgic smile spread across Amy’s cheeks as memories of her earliest studies and readings danced across her mind. So many years were spent faithfully cultivating her understanding of the practice and training her abilities. It used to be therapeutic- fun, even. She remembered feeling optimistic and prepared for each opportunity. But after so many hardships, predicting the next challenge began to feel tactful, stressful.  At what point did she stop looking forward to the day ahead? 

Amy decided that it was high time she reconnected with that childish enthusiasm. If nothing else, it would help her understand her reading better. She looked back on all her time spent at the library reading every tome and pamphlet she could find on tarot and resolved to visit her local branch that very day. After a short while getting ready, she emerged from her bedroom much later than intended.

It was close to noon. Amy had skipped breakfast and there was hardly a thing to eat in her fridge. “Guess I neglected the groceries again,” she sighed to herself. Another errand to run for the day. Metal wasn’t in the living room, so she stepped out through the backdoor to find him crouching close to the shore some ways away. He turned to look at her when she called out to him, beckoning her over. 

“Good morning.” Amy joined her friend near the seashore, leaning over his shoulder. “Whatcha looking at?” Metal lifted his hand. A hermit crab crawled over his fingers slowly, a smaller shell sitting in Metal’s palm. The smaller one was long and prickly while the crab wore a much smoother and opalescent shell as it crawled around Metal’s hand. “Made a new friend?” Amy giggled. She crouched next to him but the sudden movement scared the critter into hiding. “Oh, oops… sorry.”

Metal handed Amy the crab’s old shell. She examined its ridges and dull spines. “Did it just molt?” Metal nodded as the crab began to stir in his hand again. He turned back to watch it. “It’s so cute,” she sighed. “You’ve been out here a while, huh? It really warmed up to you.” Metal emitted a soft mechanical ring and slowly lowered his hand onto the beach. The crab scuttled around his palm for another moment before hesitantly climbing down onto the sand. He observed as it burrowed down through the sand and disappeared, leaving its tiny footprints in the damp ground. 

Amy couldn’t keep her eyes off Metal. A dreamy expression made its way onto her face as she watched his gentle interaction with the little creature, the heartwarming sight inviting a soft flush into her cheeks. So sweet, she thought, once again noticing his careful demeanor. Their feuding seemed so far away now.

The tide nipping at their feet soon brought Amy out of her trance. “Don’t get too wet,” she cautioned as she straightened herself and took some steps back from the chilly water.

It took Metal another moment to get up. He’d spent the last hour crouched there, keeping the vulnerable critter company as it hesitantly came out of its shell, exposing itself to the harsh world for the opportunity to grow in its new home. Metal had pushed the new shell closer to the crab and stood over it like a scarecrow ready to fend off any stray predators. When it was finally settled in its new home, Metal continued to sit still as it scuttled across the sand slowly, like a child breaking in a new pair of shoes. Finally, the crab thanked Metal by climbing onto his outstretched hand and entertaining him for a short while. Then it simply went about continuing its day. Melancholy made its presence aware as Metal thought about how incredibly temporary the interaction was. He lifted himself off the wet sand and stood back near Amy, listening to the gentle waves coming ashore. She tapped him on the shoulder.

“Are you gonna keep it?” She held the spiny shell out in her hand. 

He looked at it briefly before placing an uncertain hand on the shell. Amy met his eyes with an encouraging smile. Taking it in his hand, Metal examined the crab’s former home and committed its many ridges to memory before placing it back in the sand.

“Oh, good call. It’ll be useful for the next crab that comes along, huh?” Amy breathed the salty air in deeply, thinking about the day ahead. “I’m heading to the library, then I need to do a little shopping. Wanna come?”

----

The friends made their way into town after a quick stop to get Amy some breakfast. She’d brought a wheeled shopping trolley along to carry her groceries back and suggested they walk. “It’s so nice out,” she’d insisted. But Amy had neglected to mention the very uncomfortable bus ride that came along with that suggestion. All eyes were on them as they rode- or more accurately, on Metal. Perhaps they recognized him, or perhaps the sight alone was just strange enough to incite a reaction. Amy continued jabbering to him, attempting to make a pointy unblinking robot casually riding the bus with his companion seem more normal. Unfortunately, it only served to draw more attention to the pair. They couldn’t arrive at their stop fast enough.

They seemed to attract just as many stares inside the library, though some apparent social norms kept strangers from ogling or whispering too obviously once they were inside. Amy practically dragged Metal by the arm from section to section, mumbling “Sorry,” to him between forced waves and smiles to anyone that recognized her. “They’ll get used to it, don’t worry.” 

Amy picked up several volumes as they traversed the building: A sewing guide for a project she’d hit a snag on, a cookbook whose instructions she would likely ignore in favor of preparing meals her own way, and a  couple of novels to keep her entertained at bedtime. All the while, people stopped to look at Metal, some whispering to their companions when he walked past. As his irritation grew, so did the constant whirring of his engine. The buzzing became painfully apparent and worried glances in his direction shifted to those of annoyance. A particularly stern-looking librarian shushed him as they walked past her. Metal shot a glare back at the brave woman who returned with a sour look. Amy whispered an apology and dragged him away before the woman could give them a verbal warning.

Amy then spent longer than she’d wanted browsing the occult section. There wasn’t even a large collection- but she felt so out of practice as she skimmed through each of the newer books individually, looking for answers to her questions. She nearly brought half a dozen back with her before realizing they took up a third of the space in her trolley. Settling for the two that seemed the most promising, she placed the last of the books in her basket while ignoring one librarians’ concerned stares. “Anything you want me to check out for you, Metal?” she whispered.

He’d been browsing along with her, though none of the topics she’d looked at were interesting to him. She eventually convinced him to give a pair of her favorite novels a shot before continuing to the checkout counter and transacting with a very distressed clerk. Amy tried making her usual small talk with the man as he was regularly quite chatty, but he clammed up as Metal loomed behind her through the process. The annoyance was becoming harder for Amy to disguise.

Several more bystanders took a double-take at Amy and Metal on their short walk to the market, someone narrowly avoiding crashing their bike into a fence pole while gaping at the pair. Amy’s face held an unusually irritable expression as she completed her shopping in record time with Metal trailing restlessly behind. Most people turned and hid away the moment he made eye contact with them, but he couldn’t help having his guard up in such an unfriendly environment.

As they checked out, the two women that queued behind them stood far away. They clicked their tongues and whispered spitefully. Metal had heard every breath and murmur that had been uttered around him all day, but Amy could just barely pick up pieces of the womens’ conversation. “Dangerous,” and “appalling” made their way to her ears as she paid for the groceries. Metal’s discomfort may have been apparent only to her, but it was no excuse for the harsh words. Livid was an understatement. 

She turned to them with a sudden glare, raising her voice. “Do you two have something to say?” 

Taken aback, the women turned away somewhat shamefully. They continued to side-eye Metal as Amy finished her transaction with a rather alarmed cashier, putting away the rest of her purchase. Once they assumed Amy was out of earshot, however, they continued their hushed conversation. “It’s an absolute monster,” one of them remarked. 

Metal froze momentarily. Countless thoughts ran across his mind. Remembering his frightening appearance in Amy’s mirror some days ago stood out. The unwelcome feeling he’d had during the team meeting came rushing back. He also recalled how it took nothing to lose his cool when Sonic showed up and how crucial it was to keep it from happening again. Then, he noticed the pure rage in Amy’s face as she whipped her head back around, eyes blazing at the women queued behind them. 

“How dare you!” Amy took a menacing step toward the women as they gasped and scrambled backward some paces. “How could you possibly be this rude? Apologize!” The ladies turned to the cashier, stammering something about calling security. “Did you hear me? Apologize to my friend right now!” 

By that time, a small crowd had formed around the queue. Amy didn’t back down, taking further steps toward the gossiping crones, causing them to scutter back into the throng of customers. “Ma’am,” the cashier began nervously, “I’m- uh- I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.”

“Are you serious?” she scoffed back at him. “Did you hear what those hags said about my friend? I’m not leaving until- hey!” 

Amy was staring at the floor from above before she knew what was happening. Metal had scooped her up by the waist, dragging her trolley behind as he shuffled toward the exit with Amy under his arm. She squirmed and groaned at him to let her go until they were well past the shop’s main entrance. He set her down in a small alley with a huff. At least there they were away from prying eyes.

“Why’d you do that? They should’ve said they were sorry!” Metal stepped in front of Amy to prevent her from making the rash decision to run back in and continue threatening the pair of pearl-clutchers. “Ugh! Get out of my way!” She just managed to slip past him when he grabbed her by the wrist. She wasn’t able to stifle a pained yell as Metal’s iron grip tightened around her- He let go just as suddenly, recoiling with guilt as she held her sore wrist.

In a moment of clarity, Amy gasped at the realization that she’d let her temper get the better of her. Worse, the way Metal remorsefully turned away sent her own guilt skyrocketing. “Metal…” He refused to look at her. “I’m sorry! Please don’t be upset.” 

Even at his most careful, even stripped of his weapons, Metal couldn’t help how dangerous his body was - how dangerous he was. For however much he enjoyed Amy’s company and appreciated her support, he couldn’t seem to subvert the expectation that he could cause her harm at any moment. He could cause anyone harm- it’s what he was made for, after all. Those women were right about him; perhaps monster was an apt description. It seemed that every little shred of comfort and normalcy he experienced was fleeting, a temporary feeling punctuated with anger or sadness or guilt. It felt wrong. What was he supposed to do in between those positive moments, anyway? The deep discomfort of the moment made him want to fly far away, rush home- but there wasn’t one to run to.

“Metal, I’m fine! I was just surprised.” She held her wrist up to him as proof. “See? Please don’t feel bad.” He wanted to swat her hand from in front of his nose in annoyance but stopped himself- why was his first instinct so aggressive? Instead, taking a gentle hold of her hand, Metal examined her wrist. It did look fine- but her earlier yell had caught him so off guard.

His soft hold over her hand was also a surprise. Amy stammered bashfully. “I-It’s those old crones! I can’t stand that they said that about you. I just- ugh!” she had to consciously stop herself from getting steamed up again. “I hate when people judge others like that. They’ll never know how wrong they are about you...” she trailed off, somewhat embarrassed and particularly flushed. 

Amy’s kind words and willingness to stick up for him stunned Metal. Not knowing how else to respond, he emitted a low, apologetic tone and slipped his hand away from hers.

“Don’t apologize,” she sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong; Actually, I would’ve done something stupid if you hadn’t stopped me.” 

It was gratifying that Amy would defend him so earnestly- not only from cruel bystanders but from her own indiscretion as well. Still, he’d already told himself he wouldn’t rely on her to come to his aid. So then, why was it so endearing? He shrugged and rubbed his arm with some chagrin, unsure how he should feel about… everything.

“It’s annoying, isn’t it? I was in such good spirits this morning. Crazy how fast something can sour your mood.” She pouted pensively, remembering her draw from that morning. The Page of Cups stood as a positive reminder to embrace her intuition- to have fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to town with a friend. Then, an idea popped into her mind and Amy’s face softened, her sweet smile returning. It would be foolish to ignore it.

“Metal, I know we’re carrying a lot of stuff, but do you mind if we make one more stop?”

His shoulders slumped. Dragging the rolling case full of books and groceries around didn’t bother him, but Metal was reluctant to visit yet another place full of people gawking at him. He would need time to get used to it.

“Please? Consider it a favor. It won’t take long.”

Amy’s eyes were suddenly twinkling with enthusiasm. He couldn’t tell if he was being manipulated or if anything that could come from denying her request would genuinely please him more than seeing her that way. It didn’t matter for long, as he gave in, taking hold of the trolley and flashing her a hesitant thumbs-up.

“Yes!” she beamed. “You won’t regret it, come on.” Amy led him by the hand excitedly, cutting through alleys and back streets. If anyone had stopped to ogle at them along the way, Metal didn’t notice- he was too enraptured with the instant delight that seemed to spill from Amy as she pulled him along.

Soon, the pair had arrived at a tall building with an open ground floor. Claw machines and brightly-colored lights filled the inside. “Bet you’ve never been to an arcade,” Amy grinned. “It’s nicer to see at night I guess, but the games are fun whenever. Here,” she skipped over to a row of skill games. “It’s probably cheating, but…” Amy took a quick glance around, scanning for attendants. “Ah, who cares, not like they give out prizes for these here. Try this one!”

Metal had soon been thrust in front of a tall machine that glittered with multicolored lights. A shiny metal handle stuck out from the lower part of it. The top read “TRUE GRIP” in bold font. He looked back at Amy with some confusion.

“It’s a grip tester. The harder you hold the handle, the better your score.” She placed a coin in the machine and it chimed a playful tune. “I know you can beat the high score,” she winked. “Try it!”

So this was her game- Amy wanted to put on a positive spin over grabbing her too roughly earlier. He had to admit, it was clever. Even though he could see through her plan, Metal was heartened by her attempt to cheer him up with such an obvious ruse; The least he could do now was indulge her. He confidently took hold of the handle with his usual grip strength, resting his other hand squarely on his hip. The lights on the machine danced around the “strength-o-meter” as it sang a cheery tune.  After a few moments of this, the machine decided that on a scale of “meek” to “super grip,” Metal landed squarely in the middle. “KINDA WIMPY,” the game announced. Amy burst into laughter the moment it stopped.

Metal’s engine buzzed incessantly as he let out a series of indignant beeps. He then glared at Amy, who was doubled over and cackling. “Oh man,” she managed to splurt out between fits of laughter, “that was too good! Got a little cocky, huh?” He was far less amused. Metal stuck out his hand to her, making a grabbing gesture with his claws. “Oh? Another round?” she giggled. “Alright, don’t waste my quarter this time, you wimp.”

He shoved the coin into its slot the second she dropped it in his palm. As soon as the lights flickered, Metal grabbed the handle. It seemed simple enough- he got halfway up with his first round, so using twice as much force should be enough. He took hold of it with several times more power just to be safe, staring directly at the tip of the game’s meter with anticipation. Much to his chagrin, the lights stopped just below the top spot. “KINDA TOUGH,” it sang out this time.

Amy was reeling. Metal turned to her angrily and shoved his hand in front of her face, once more gesturing for another coin. She pushed it away between giggles. “Pfft, no way, you’re gonna break the thing!” Metal stomped his foot on the ground angrily in response. “Don’t worry,” Amy placed a hand on his shoulder with a grin. “These things are rigged. You won’t get the high score even if you rip that handle out,” she chuckled. 

Metal crossed his arms in annoyance. Not only was he embarrassed at losing a silly arcade game, but he was surprised to learn that he’d misread Amy somewhat. He assumed she brought him there for an easy win, but she was well aware that it was unlikely to happen. Admittedly, he didn’t feel very guilty anymore, and he supposed it was rather amusing… Was that her intent? Metal turned back to Amy, who was wiping at her eyes happily. She really just wanted to ease the tension and have some fun together- and Amy even knew he’d be a little irritated. She was just being... playful. Like friends are. 

A giddy smile filled her face as she came out of her laughing fit. “Sorry, just wanted to tease you a little. I don’t want you to feel so bad about being strong- I’m tough, I can handle it,” she assured. 

Metal rolled his eyes, his stance softening significantly. Once he realized how silly the whole situation was, he may have even found it somewhat humorous himself. Still, it would be far more amusing if he could get her back. He gestured toward the machine that stood beside the grip tester, inviting her to try it. It was a similar test of strength, this time with a punching bag.

Amy grinned coyly. “I get it, you wanna see me fail, too. I’ll indulge you,” she shrugged. “But only ‘cause I feel bad that you’re such a wimp.”

As Metal bobbed his head mockingly, Amy rolled a quarter into the coin slot. She stretched her arms casually, giving the game a moment to warm up. Once all of its many lights were on and the screen read “PUNCH,” she pulled back her fist and went for a forceful hook, knocking the punching bag up into the sensor. The lights flickered up and down the meter for just a second until the optics at the very top of the machine exploded with colors. “SUPER STRONG!” the game rang out.

If Metal had a jaw to drop it would be on the floor. So much for the games being rigged- Amy knew exactly what she was doing. He would have been vexed if it wasn’t so impressive. He watched as she shook her fingers off and turned back with her beaming smile. “I’m doing that to the next person who calls you a nasty name,” she giggled.

She was nothing short of incredible. Metal recalled her old file in his memory. Weak. That was certainly no longer the case. He took a snap of her then, looking cheerful and victorious, and logged it as the main photo in his memory. The word weak no longer applied and was promptly crossed out. Before he could alter the file any more, Amy had taken hold of his hand in her tender way, gazing into him with her soft eyes. 

“You know, you’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. I think it’s really admirable how willing you are to be gentle even when it’s a challenge. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

Metal was stunned by her kindness yet again. What was it that Amy saw in him that others did not? Surely it wasn’t just naivete, given her willingness to be combative in his defense- no, she was no doormat. And Amy didn’t see Metal as fiendish, at least not anymore. But it still took her some time, however less than it would have taken anyone else. Strangers, on the other hand, are temporary, there wouldn’t always be time to show them his true self. Metal did not know how he could possibly appear less menacing to bystanders, nor did the idea of trying to do so appeal to him. He wanted to understand, to calculate if creating an existence as a regular person, grasping at a fleeting sense of belonging, would even be worth it should he succeed. But it was unpredictable. Incalculable.

Amy had said it herself: “Crazy how fast something can sour your mood.” But it worked conversely as well- on any day, at any given moment, Metal could be more elated than he ever remembered feeling. And there was something so sweet about feeling that way after having his mood soured. It was endlessly more rewarding. So what, then, was the point of lamenting over the impermanence of those moments? There would always be rude strangers, always challenges ahead. No one would ever know him fully. All the more reason, then, for Metal to get to know himself as intimately as possible. Thoughtful was a good place to start. 

...................................................................................

(notes contain chapter spoilers)

hello babesss i hope you enjoyed this chapter.

i like to think that amy has some latent magical powers and her being able to beat the ever loving shit out of a rigged arcade game is just part of her magic. also, she’s stronk.

also! i’ve been working on a small playlist with songs that remind me of each chapter, but i’ve drawn a blank for a few. if anyone has any songs they associate with the fic (or with metal/amy in general), please dm me your suggestions! i love hearing your thoughts and i’m a geezer that is too stubborn to listen to new music unless someone shoves it in front of me.

here’s the playlist so far!

[rametarin]

Maternal narcissistic abuse involves wasting your attention.

I am convinced that one of the reasons for the epidemic of children diagnosed with ADHD conditions is partly because there’s a phenomenon that resembles ADHD but is in fact something entirely different, distinct and separate.

I was diagnosed with ADD as a child, but I contest the conclusion. The schools wanted me medicated for ADD. My family protested. And looking back, I sincerely didn’t have ADD.

I was mentally and emotionally exhausted because of the way women are allowed to abuse their children, so long as they don’t leave marks.

It’s a subtle form of abuse, but it is abuse. And the results and what it does to a child is similar to actually having ADD/ADHD.

How it works is you exhaust them. You disguise the abuse as boilerplate parental engagement and then just annoy the shit out of them with social convention until they want to disengage from conversing with you.

Then you punish or threaten them for “rudeness”, and that becomes the precursor for holding a grudge. It may manifest later on as a no instead of a yes when they ask permission for something. It may manifest as exacerbating a punishment’s severity or length if the child does anything wrong. It may manifest as deprivation of a privilege they usually enjoy just out of spite. Or, it may result in more “justified harassment” in a venue the parent DOES control.

But whatever it is, it will seem valid, it will seem like a legitimate parenting move that is acceptable, and it will annoy the shit out of the child for no other reason than the satisfaction of a sadistic and selfish parent taking their frustrations in life or entitlement to attention out on their children.

For example, my mother used to get us in the car and drive around. The radio would always be what she wanted to listen to, and we’d always go wherever she wanted to go. And in the car, she’d make small talk. Just, force engagement. And you weren’t allowed things like music players, there were no cell phones, no distractions to passively get in the way of any stray stream of consciousness she had from just blasting into the air like firing a shotgun to invite and “engage” conversation.

And if you just sat there ignoring her or not responding or replying to her, that was an invite for her to stop passively filling the air with the equivalent of verbal diarrhea, and then more DIRECTLY address why you seemed to not be “going with the flow” and engaging with her.

Or she’d accidentally do shit like drive over curbs if you seemed to be sleeping. “Oops! Haha! Accident!” Or find some excuse to hit the brakes and stop really fast just to jar you. Just indirect ways she could claim were, “completely accidental” to antagonize you into paying attention to her.

And when she wanted your undivided attention, she’d just talk to the air about an important topic (to her) and then ask your thoughts. Trying to socially force engagement or for you to commit a faux pas by refusing engagement. If you comply with engagement, she then demands you listen not just to the content, but demand you listen to all of it for the alloted time. There are no shortcuts with her, she wanted you to listen to the WHOLE spiel for however long it took before you could compile it, strip out all the wasted emotional shit she invested, and in essence just drag on the conversation for as long as she possibly could.

She fashioned every single engagement and conversation to take as much time as possible and demand you pay attention to every second of it in order to properly answer whatever question or long winded wind up to the question she could pose. She’d pose questions simply to gauge and bar if you were paying attention, and then feign outrage and tantrum if you didn’t. You could not just answer “sure” or “yes” or minimize your engagement to ignore whatever spiel she was saying. You couldn’t just tune her out, because she structured every nonsense conversation to check how well you were engaging.

And if you weren’t engaged, then out came the hostility and the antagonism and the passive aggression. And if they felt justified enough, out came the tantrums and restrictions and threats.

Another technique was she’d have indirect conversations over the phone with other people. You would be hit with weird random mood shifts and changes from her after she got off the phone with someone. Maybe one of her stupid sisters would do something or feud and piss her off, she’d feel like she wasn’t in control of them, so she’d take that out on people she did control just to “assert dominance.” So suddenly if Aunt Nelly (fake name) called her a dumb bitch, you get informed bed time is now an hour earlier, and unless you’re paying attention, you have no idea why this is happening.

So you start paying attention and listening in on family phone conversations just to understand why the dumb bitch goes on rampages. It won’t change bed times or get those privileges back, but at least you know WHAT set her off. And it’s designed to use negative reinforcement to MAKE you interested in those phone conversations and eavesdrop. But, you aren’t allowed to make it obvious you’re eavesdropping. So it’s an unspoken part.

That gives narcissistic moms the opportunity to start talking about you to other people. So you indirectly get to hear intentions or revealed information of what they’re about to do or their plans for things. Being talked about as if you’re an object or not even there when you’re in the next room over is a normal occurrence.

So as a kid, you spend most of your time dodging your mom trying to waste your time with worthless conversation after conversation. Which are just subtle little methods that she uses to waste your time, dominate your actions and deprive you of autonomy. And all she has to do is talk to you. All she has to do is punish you with social conventions. All she has to do is communicate outlandish bullshit about how you’re rude or drop mention about how you “tell her to shut up” for her friends and adults around you to cheer her on and encourage her to punish you for “being so fresh.” Because adult women/mothers get the benefit of the doubt over some kid on if what they’re saying is true, or not. So the whole god damned fabricated social interaction now gets strangers cheering on her abuse to “put you in your place.”

Even going outside as a kid, she found a way to render ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS, fruitless and JOYLESS. All she had to do, any time I was outside, was stick her head out the door and yell. She’d pretend I wasn’t yelling loud enough, purely to waste my energy and attention and make me repeat myself, and justify coming closer to the house to speak. (This was the time before cell phones.)

So she’d stick her head out the door and want to have a 2-3 minute exchange, every few minutes. Just, the most worthless and pointless engagements and exchanges that amount to ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, and she would not stop doing it. And there’s no force on earth that canmake a woman or mother shut the fuck up and not do this. Forced social engagement is a thing women can weaponize and do it with impunity.

Eventually I just got tired of my thoughts and my enjoyment of nature walks being derailed and just stayed inside. It was less effort and she was less ardent about wanting her eye on me every two minutes if I was sitting inside playing videogames, where I was at her beck and call within a few seconds notice.

Just through the power of “not shutting her fucking mouth” and being able to escalate consequences for my being annoyed at her constant attention devouring, she managed to want me to make the decision to just stay inside the house because being outdoors was POINTLESS. It was less suffering and stress to just stay inside than try and enjoy something just for her to waste my time and any satisfaction I could get from it. So, she got what she wanted while pretending she just wanted to talk about what we were having for supper. For half a fucking hour, off and on again.

And I can guarantee you, this is normal in the homes of many American children, especially young boys of single parent homes. Because everybody already knows boys are not perfect, boys can and do act up, boys do talk back to their mothers, boys can be out of control, boys can be short tempered, boys can be violent if they get to the end of their rope and just can’t fucking stand the premeditated and calculated harassment anymore, because in a man’s mind, doing that is waging war. And if you’re waging war on a person, escalation to violence is guaranteed.

Women do not escalate to violence unless it’s to land a killing blow, and they tend to try and do that indirectly and without open conflict. Such as, through poison, or accidents. But they do wage war on you.

Because boys have almost no credibility and women/mothers, they have as high as that value can go in trust from other people. It’s easy to allow them to not just do this shit, but be congratulated for doing it. Other women will reinforce it.

When you do this to a young man, every whisper they hear around them takes higher priority than, say, thinking about math. If you’ve been abused and persistently trained to let someone else derail your thoughts to pay attention to them, you can’t manage math problems. You get punished and harassed and stuck into hostile situations unless you give whomever wants your attention top priority and learn to just give them control or suffer. If not directly, then indirectly from boredom, after the punishments take away all your stimulation and autonomy. .

When you do this to a young man, they lose the ability to tune other peoples egos out and focusing and shutting out distraction becomes impossible. Especially when mothers abuse this relationship, trying to prioritize their feelings about, say, Jerry fucking Springer by talking along with the show, over you doing your homework.

They suffer academically. They lose the ability to focus. They get agitated and hungry for stimulation. They do anything they can for stimulation that ISN’T just giving everything to their mothers all the fucking time; comic books, video games, anything that can be put down whenever that rancid, selfish bitch decides she needs to devour another 50 seconds of your life in 8 parts over the next 20 minutes, making your life and your ability to engage in anything stop-and-go with her calling the shots.

So once again, women use ambiguity as a method of getting away with abuse and destruction, because unless and until you can prove they’re the reason why something happened, you have to assume their innocence. Narcissistic moms use the subjective like a cudgel to get away with abuse.

And many young men and boys have just internalized that their mothers are free to do this shit, this is just bird brain bitch mom shit, you can no more contest it or be angry about it than you could contest and be angry about the rain or anything else. So they never really question it. That’s just how things are. They accept how things are and that some things cannot be changed or helped, and wanting so is just a waste of energy. Because it’s impossible.

So they won’t even remember all the times their mothers did this sort of socially and interpersonally abusive mom-shit unless they think about it really hard. How their moms would pre-meditate and be difficult about shit, solely to waste their time and energy before they tried to live their lives. Just to set them up to fail, that much harder. Just for the satisfaction of taking it away from them, whether they willingly gave it or were coerced to.

And then we have the mental health and child welfare institutions deciding the problem is purely that all these kids fall under the umbrella of Attention Deficient. When there’s clearly a distinction between those that have had their mental reserves cannibalized by their fat bitches of mothers vs. those with actual attention deficiency problems brought about by brains and genetics.

So it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a whole population out there that got baked and basted with ADD medication (like antidepressants for kids with abusive parents) solely because it became socially en vogue as a way to avoid the consequences of your child breaking down from being overly psyche-abused.

[faulty-writes]

Dirty Date Night Intentions.

Warning: 18+ Has sex. You get the drill. (I am bad at writing smut RIP. You have been warned.)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: MiriTama (Mirio Togata and Tamaki Amajiki)

“I got popcorn!” Mirio’s cheery voice sounded from the kitchen, making Tamaki jump in surprise from the couch. “Shh!” He scolded the energic blond even though he was used to the man’s behavior by now. They were still in the dorms and all their classmates were probably asleep or at least should be. Which left the two of them to take freedom of the common area, Mirio insisted it would be a fun date night but so far it wasn’t proving to be true. 

“Oh, oops sorry!” Mirio said with that same big goofy smile on his face, the one he always wore. Sometimes Tamaki got tired of it but damned if he didn’t love it at the same time. Mirio was his best friend after all and as of a few months ago,  they became boyfriends. It was strange, Tamaki wasn’t expecting Mirio to confess such feelings for him but one way or another it happened and right after, Mirio insisted they go on a date. Just to see how they’d work out. 

It was hard at first, especially with how others reacted. Tamaki hated when all eyes were on them when Mirio insisted they hold hands in public or even dare press a loving kiss to his cheek which only made Tamaki flush furiously. It was worse inside the halls of U.A. High especially because of all the gossip that started. Talk of the two heroes dating one another and it didn’t exactly help that they were both males too. Thankfully U.A. had a Policy that protected their students from getting harrassed over such matters. So that was one less thing to worry about. 

Still, Tamaki remembers how confidently Mirio would strut down the school hallways, dragging Tamaki along by the hand. He always escorted Tamaki wherever he needed to go, which was nice. But it was still a little embarrassing how the blond would kiss him before entering their homeroom. Now that a couple months had passed and everyone got used to their relationship, it was old news. Nejire had been supportive of the two boys as well and often went on about how happy she was for them. 

Least someone was on their side, not that it mattered much on days like this. When it was just the two of them, the world absent from their minds. “Ah!” Mirio exclaimed as he plopped down recklessly next to Tamaki, leaving a few stray pieces of popcorn on the floor from the sudden movement. “Mirio!” Tamaki hissed as he scooted away. “Hey! Where are you going? Come here, it’s cuddle time sunshine!” Mirio insisted as he reached over and wrapped his strong arm around Tamaki. 

When it came to a contest of strength, Tamaki knew Mirio would always win and that’s why he cried out when he was pulled back into the other's chest. “You need to be careful! You ...you spilled the popcorn ...” Tamaki pointed out, his finger directed towards the floor where sure enough the pieces of popcorn still remained. Mirio seemed clueless as he tilted his head, those baby blues looking at the mess he involuntarily created. “Is that what you’re worried about baby? I’ll clean it up later, come on. Let’s focus on cuddling, it is date night right?” He said as he turned to Tamaki with his beautiful smile. 

“Mm ...” Damn that smile, it was too good! Tamaki sighed in defeat and did as Mirio wished. Leaning against the bigger male, he nuzzled into him and tried to find a comfortable position. Bringing his legs up, he laid his head against Mirio’s shoulder and reached out to take a handful of popcorn. Happily chewing it while Mirio reached over to ruffle his boyfriend’s dark messy hair. “You look so cute when you’re leaning against me, Tamaki.” He took great pride in knowing how badly he could make Tamaki flush, it was like he had some kind of mysterious power over him. But he tried not to abuse it. 

In actuality, he just knew how to rile Tamaki up. Knew how to make him melt and submit. Which was useful at times, especially when Tamaki was being stubborn. “How about we put on that movie I promised huh?” He grinned and winked at Tamaki before grabbing the nearby remote. He was thankful that at least one of their classmates had gotten a streaming service that could be easily accessed through an app on the television and even more grateful when they agreed to share it with the rest of the third years. 

The blond hummed softly as he navigated through the movie selection, in all truth he already knew what he was looking for. Let’s just say he had a small chat with Mineta, the topics of which revolved around sex scenes in certain movies and the first year didn’t disappoint when he confidently gave Mirio a whole list. But he did mention one particular movie that had the most graphic sex scenes in it and that’s, unfortunately, the one Mirio was going for.

Now he wasn’t a pervert or at least he tried not to be, but they had only had sex a few times since they started dating and it was always so hard to get Tamaki in the mood. Mirio didn’t blame him of course, seeing as he knew Tamaki’s shy demeanor. But maybe a little push wouldn’t hurt, of course, he’d never do anything his boyfriend didn’t want. But damned if he couldn’t try to persuade him into it. 

“Hey sunshine, let’s watch this one.” Mirio insisted, turning to look at Tamaki who only looked confused at the choice of movie. “Uh ...are you sure you want to ...watch that one?” Tamaki questioned, it seemed a little odd. Usually, Mirio picked pleasant and well family-friendly movies. The rating in the top corner didn’t go unnoticed, that much was for sure. It actually made him worry a bit, was something wrong with his boyfriend? 

Mirio frowned at Tamaki’s question. “What’s the matter? I just thought it’d be nice to watch something a little different. No harm done, right!?” He said before leaning close to press a loving kiss to Tamaki’s forehead. “Let’s just try watching it, we can always change it if you don’t like it! Promise!” He watched Tamaki’s lips form a frown before he finally indulged Mirio’s request. “If you say so ...” That big smile came back to the blond’s face, this was going to be good. 

Pushing the play button, Mirio tossed the remote onto the arm of the couch and pulled Tamaki closer, the dark-haired man gave a squeak but made no attempt to push Mirio away which he took as a sign that Tamaki was comfortable. He hummed as he watched the opening credits while stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, licking his lips of the remaining buttery residue. 

The bowl of popcorn was half gone by the time Mirio was growing bored of the movie, he did pick the right movie didn’t he? It had been a good 30 minutes in, so where were the sex scenes? He almost wanted to call it quits and bring Tamaki to his room. Maybe he could rile him up another way. He turned his glance at Tamaki who was still comfortably nestled against his shoulder, eyes glued to the television and the faintest smile on his face. Why didn’t he just watch Tamaki? He had to admit, his boyfriend was beautiful. Fair skin, dark messy hair and those adorable pointy ears.

It almost made him want to lean in and nibble on them, Tamaki had sensitive ears after all and it made it all the more fun to hear him moan out when Mirio’s mouth got to work on them. Yes, his mouth was good for something other than talking. He barely noticed the smile on his face as he stared at his boyfriend, that was until Tamaki felt that burning gaze begin to make a hole through him. He wanted to turn and tell Mirio to stop staring at him, though he knew that wouldn’t do anything because than Mirio would just shower him down with compliments revolving around the fact that Tamaki was simply too beautiful not to watch. 

There was that fact and the contributing contender was that soft feminine moan coming from the television. “Hm!?” Tamaki turned his attention back to the movie and felt his jaw drop when he saw the two characters begin to strip off their clothes, the male protagonist sinking his teeth into the female’s neck as he guided her towards the bed. Tamaki's face went red and he held his hands up as if shielding himself from the sex happening on screen. “M-Mirio! Why’d you pick this!?” He exclaimed before giving a soft hiss, he needed to be quiet before he woke everyone up. 

“Huh?” Mirio looked lost a moment before turning his head towards the television. Sure enough, on-screen was a sex scene. One of many Mirio hoped, he took a minute to appreciate it. Watching as the male grasped those breasts and gave them a squeeze. “Mm, that looks like fun doesn’t it Tamaki?” Mirio’s tone was nothing less than happy as he reached over to grab Tamaki’s arm which struggled to stay up. “N-No!” The raven-haired man cried out which only made Mirio laugh. 

“Aw come on sunshine, it’s okay.” He tried to insist, though part of him was truly amused by how his timid boyfriend reacted to a simple sex scene. It was adorable, especially those flushed cheeks. Mirio could feel himself twitch in his pants, damn sometimes Tamaki didn’t even have to do much to get Mirio going. Of course, it was safe to say the blond was more open and willing to jump into things while Tamaki ...not so much. Not that that was a problem, as his best friend and boyfriend. Mirio would always be there to give him the support he needed. 

But not right now, right now he only had one thing on his mind. Tamaki continued to cry out in protest as Mirio began pulling him, situating the raven-haired boy onto his lap. Tamaki could feel his boyfriend’s strong chest against his back and the fact that he was practically forced to watch what was playing across the television screen didn’t help the situation. Tamaki wasn’t having a good time and even brought his legs up to kick them in protest. But Mirio kept a stronghold on his hips, which prevented the shy boy from actually getting up. “M-Mirio what are you doing!?” He hissed once more, wanting an explanation already. It’s not that he didn’t welcome this, being seated in his boyfriend’s lap. Hell, it was probably something most people dreamed of, being so close to a Pro Hero especially one like Lemillion. 

But they didn’t know his dark side. “Ah!” Tamaki felt himself tremble when those strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back again. Mirio could only smile as he finally restricted his boyfriend’s movements and pressed his lips against Tamaki’s exposed neck which caused resulted in the raven gasping “M-Mirio?” The innocent way Tamaki said his name, God he loved it. Mirio’s fingers slipped up his boyfriend’s shirt, brushing the sensitive skin of his stomach area. The commotion from the television continued to sound, bed squeaking and cries of pleasure. 

He kissed up Tamaki’s ear, swiping along the edge of it before whispering “Wouldn’t it be fun to do it while watching this Tamaki?” He could feel his boyfriend tremble in his arms and once more begin to kick his legs as a method of escape which made Mirio frown. Sometimes, just sometimes he wished Tamaki was easier to relax. “N-No way! We’re in the living room Mirio! I can’t ....I can’t ...” He tried pleading with the blond as he struggled against his hold. “Well wait a minute, sunshine, I-” His words were cut off by the sound of Tamaki somehow freeing himself and turning to look at Mirio with an expression that was settled somewhere between angry and embarrassed. 

“You always do things ...l-like this!” Tamaki said, standing there with his shoulders trembling. “I’m going back to bed ...” Ducking his head, he turned away from the other. Mirio panicked and sprang up from the couch, grabbing Tamaki’s arm in an attempt to yank him back. “I’m sorry Tamaki!” He tried pleading, maybe he could convince his boyfriend to at least get back to the couch. Strong arms once more found their way to Tamaki’s waist and he pulled the smaller male to him. Nuzzling his face into the raven’s shoulder and inhaled his aroma. Tamaki always smelled so good for some reason. 

“Please don’t leave! Come on, I’ll make it worth your while!” He insisted as he leaned up to kiss Tamaki on the cheek and heard that ever so familiar sigh come. In other words, it was safe to assume he had won this little confrontation. Tamaki turned to look at Mirio, even now he had trouble looking at his boyfriend. He was tall, handsome, had beautiful hair and eyes. What wasn’t there to love about Mirio? Apart from how he did things like this, he was pretty sure Mirio had a strange kink of some kind but he didn’t want to look too much into it. 

“Is ...that a promise?” He questioned with narrowed eyes, but Mirio only smiled at him. “Of course sunshine! I wouldn’t lie to you, ever!” Tamaki glanced down a moment before taking a deep breath. “Alright.” He tilted his head back up, giving Mirio a smile in return before he reached up to wrap his arms around that strong neck. Pressing a kiss to those lips that never seemed to stop moving. “I’ll sit ...on the couch,” Tamaki said, despite the fact he immediately had second thoughts. 

“Right this way my love!” Mirio cheerfully spoke as he escorted Tamaki like always. “Get comfortable.” He insisted as he watched the other hesitantly take their seat. Tamaki was so cute, like a frightened kitten. But Mirio knew how to make him purr. “Now, I promise I won’t restrain you. Instead ...” The blond slowly got onto his knees, positioned in front of Tamaki who looked at him with a scared expression, almost like he wasn’t prepared for what Mirio would do. 

“I’ll do this ...” That grin alone made Tamaki shiver as he watched his boyfriend lean forward and with that long thick tongue, swipe along his zipper. “Ah ...” Tamaki hissed softly at the feeling, which left the fabric moist. His tongue continued to brush against the zipper before he wrapped his lips around the outline of Tamaki’s hardening cock. Mirio couldn’t help but smile as he felt his boyfriend grow harder and harder due to his advances. He pulled away and wiped his mouth, smiling at Tamaki who was currently covering his face. More than likely embarrassed by the lewd noises he had been making, but there was no shame in it. When you felt so good, you just had to let it out, right?

“Come on sunshine, spread your legs a little. It’s okay.” Mirio insisted and his request was only greeted with a groan of protest. He pouted and reached up to part Tamaki’s thighs apart himself. “There you go! Relax Tamaki, I’ll make sure to be gentle ...” He promised though Mirio was always gentle with his anxiety-ridden boy. Unless Tamaki clearly said he wanted it rough, but most of the time Mirio just made sweet love as opposed to fucking Tamaki’s brains out. Truth be told, Mirio was more about making love than anything. Being able to share something so intimate and be so close to another like that, it always felt amazing. 

He watched Tamaki lower his hands, looking down as Mirio once more got to work. Tongue tracing the bulge that now strained against his boyfriend's pants, Tamaki almost hated how responsive he was to Mirio. “Ah! Mirio ...d-don’t do that!” He pleaded, but he only got a chuckle from Mirio. “Don’t do what sunshine, this?” He questioned before opening his mouth and gently sinking his teeth into the bulge, nibbling on it for a moment as Tamaki continued with those cries of protest. But Mirio knew he was enjoying it, especially since those nasty little hips were moving. 

“I think it’s finally time I give you some relief, would you like that?” Mirio asked, reaching up to rub Tamaki through his pants. “Ah ...M-Mirio!” The raven cried out, wiggling madly on the couch. Hips thrusting into Mirio’s hand as he only continued to please. It was madness. “Mm ...please Mirio!” He finally gave in and reached over to thread his hand through Mirio’s hair, gripping it tightly. His face twisted, cheeks already flushed and a moan escaped him as he watched Mirio grasp his zipper between his teeth and pull it down. 

A soft hiss escaped Tamaki’s mouth as Mirio pulled his throbbing cock out, damn his boyfriend’s fingers felt cool against his hot flesh and he shivered when Mirio traced over the large vein. “Mm ...” Biting his lip, Tamaki curiously looked down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He really hoped no one would come out and see this. Mirio on his knees before the fellow third-year student, stroking him and causing those delightful noises to escape. 

“You like this sunshine? Does it feel good?” Mirio’s voice came in a soft purr as he continued to stroke Tamaki, watching as that small dribble of precum came from the tip. Mirio grinned and leaned forward, kitten licking the small mess clean. Tamaki’s taste made him moan in delight. He could feel that hand tighten in his hair which made him lookup. “You taste so good, Tamaki.” Mirio said as he licked his lips, “ I think I want more.” With that, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive tip, collecting any remaining precum. 

Of course, it was hard not to chuckle when he heard those soft whimpers coming from Tamaki, which only grew louder as Mirio parted his lips and slowly took that hot flesh in his mouth. Tamaki always tasted like salt and it was something that Mirio was growing to love, well that and the feeling of that cock against his tongue. Giving a soft moan, he began to work his lips up and down Tamaki’s shaft. Working his tongue in circular motions, he could hear those muffled cries coming from his boyfriend who currently had his hand clasped over his mouth. 

Normally Mirio could insist that Tamaki could be as loud as he wanted but given the current circumstance. He couldn’t really blame his boyfriend for wanting to stay as quiet as possible. Despite Mirio’s mouth feeling so hot and moist against Tamaki’s cock which made the raven wiggle like mad. His body jerked involuntarily and though he still had one hand threaded in Mirio’s hair. It seems the blonde had no trouble keeping up with the sudden jerks and wiggles. 

Regardless, Tamaki loved the sight of his boyfriend sucking him off. Those lips stretched perfectly over his cock, the noises that came and sent vibrations through him and the way Mirio’s strong hand wrapped around him. Pumping him in time with his mouth, it was almost too much. “M-Mirio ...I ...can’t ...” Tamaki got a little impatient sometimes, but Mirio didn’t mind. In fact, it made him smile to know he was doing such a good job. He pushed Tamaki out of his mouth and tilted his head up. 

“Can’t what sunshine?” He teased as he reached up to wipe his mouth of any saliva and gave a smile when he felt those fingers tighten in his hair. He knew what Tamaki wanted, he just enjoyed hearing those precious words. “Please ...Mirio.” Those words were soft and pitiful and they only made Mirio chuckle. “Please what? Please make you cum, hm?” He chuckled as Tamaki shyly nodded, he was so cute sometimes. How could Mirio deny that face?

“Well alright! But you asked for it.” He warned as he reached up to push two fingers past Tamaki’s lips. “Suck them sunshine, I need them nice and wet if they’re going to be inside you.” It was unbelievable how such dirty things could come from a man with a smile so sweet. He could feel Tamaki hesitate a moment before wrapping those lips around his fingers. Bobbing his head slowly and using his tongue to give soft kitten licks. 

Mirio couldn’t help but chuckle, “That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. Use your tongue more.” He instructed, despite wanting to do such filthy things, Mirio always made sure to properly prepare his boyfriend. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the person he loved. Tamaki’s expression was nothing short of adorable as he continued to suck his boyfriend’s fingers, cheeks flushed and soft beads of sweat dripped down his face. 

“Hm, hmm.” Mirio hummed softly and wiggled his fingers around Tamaki’s talented little tongue before pulling them out. In the dim lighting of the room, he could his fingers glistening. Oddly enough it made him smile, in a way he found it kind of sexy to be using Tamaki's own spit to stretch his hole. “Uh, Mirio ...how are you going to ...” The shy man’s voice came to a halt and Mirio could guess what he was trying to say. 

“Stand up and pull those sweatpants off baby,” Mirio instructed, even though there was a chance at any moment one of their classmates could wake up. He was willing to take that chance, it was actually kind of exciting. Though Tamaki didn’t seem to be on the same level of thinking as he groaned and covered his face again. “I c-can’t! That's too embarrassing and w-what if someone comes and-” Mirio quickly silenced those lips by leaning over and capturing them with his own. 

Pulling away with a soft pop, Mirio smiled at his boyfriend. “Don’t worry about that, just live a little.” He insisted, sometimes Tamaki just needed a little push, a little encouragement. His hands then reached for the waistband of those sweatpants. “Lift your hips up.” The blond instructed, even though Tamaki just gave another groan. “Come on ...” Mirio pushed further as he began to pull down the waistband himself. “Mm! Okay, okay ...” Tamaki finally seemed to give in and aided Mirio by lifting his hips up so the sweatpants easily slid down his legs. 

Mirio couldn’t help but grin and tossed the clothing piece aside without a care. “There, that wasn’t so hard right? I love you sunshine!” Once more, he lowered himself to the floor. Reaching out to grab Tamaki’s hips so he could pull him forward. “Ah! Mirio ...don’t! I’m gonna f-fall ...” He could only shake his head at his boyfriend’s continued concerns. “I would never let you fall, Tamaki, just trust me. Lift your ass more, show me how beautiful you are.” He insisted, buttering Tamaki up with compliments always seemed to work. 

Despite the fact that Tamaki had dug his nails into the couch and felt frozen with nerves. He tried to do as Mirio instructed, scooting his bottom half down just a touch more. But he felt flush when Mirio’s hands grasped onto his cheeks and spread them, exposing his clenching hole. The cold air didn’t seem to help with that, but chances are Mirio was going to warm him up. “Ah!” Tamaki cried out when he felt those fingers brush against his entrance, causing it to twitch in response. 

Mirio’s fingers felt warm and wet and more than likely all too eager to please. “Take a deep breath okay?” Mirio instructed as he applied pressure to that all too eager looking hole. “M-Mirio ...ah ...” The raven moaned as he felt one finger probe his entrance, pushing past his tight ring of muscle. Mirio had such thick fingers. “That’s it, you’re such a good boy for me, baby.” He grinned as he wrapped his free hand around his boyfriend’s neglected cock, still moist from his little blow job. 

Another moan of pleasure came from Tamaki as he felt that finger wiggle inside him. Mirio knew all the little secrets about his boyfriend’s body, including which way to twist his finger inside to get that golden reaction. “I love the noises you make sunshine, they make me pretty excited!” He could feel his own cock twitching in his pants, growing harder at the erotic sounds coming from his boyfriend. But it wouldn’t be very nice if he pleased himself, of course not! He was going to please Tamaki, make sure he feels a Lemillon times satisfied. 

His hand worked gently, stroking Tamaki as he got used to his finger. “You like this baby? I think I can fit another finger inside you, I love fucking you like this.” Mirio’s voice practically purred as he paused and slowly pushed another finger in. Tamaki’s tight hole seemed to resist a moment, which made it a little hard. But with a little more pressure, Mirio moaned as he watched that eager hole wrap around his digits “Feels good huh?” He questioned as he looked up at Tamaki who looked pretty satisfied. 

“Y-Yes! Mirio, i-it feels good.” He couldn’t help but smile, he loved the way Tamaki responded. His breathless, desperate voice. The way he wiggled his body in response to Mirio’s touch, it was beautiful. But at the same time, it made Mirio want to pull out his own monster and make Tamaki scream his name. But that would be a reward best saved for later, particularly in the dorm room where Tamaki could scream into a pillow. “Hm?” Mirio snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his boyfriend’s delicate fingers brush the messy tips of his hair.

“Oh sorry! Did you want something sunshine?” He questioned, resuming the movement of his fingers. Spreading them in an attempt to loosen Tamaki.”Ah y-yes! Please ...I ...I want more!” Mirio would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little surprised by his boyfriend’s request. Usually, Tamaki was shy when it came to requests, but Mirio wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny him. Oh no. A wicked smile came to his face and he leaned closer to that beautiful stiff cock. His hot breath tickling it as he said, “More? Heh okay, you asked for it! I’m going to make you quiver.” That was a promise and Mirio hadn’t broken one yet. 

His lips parted once more and slowly, he took Tamaki into his mouth. His lips sealed tight around the sensitive tip, using his tongue to swirl around the flesh as a means to tease his boyfriend. “Mm ...ah, your t-tongue. It’s so h-hot and wet around me! Uh, it feels amazing!” Tamaki’s praises started coming as Mirio worked his mouth harder. From top to bottom, Mirio eagerly moaned around Tamaki. The vibrations of which caused his boyfriend to squirm as he laid there on the couch, legs spread and moaning desperately for Mirio. 

His hole was practically dripping as those fingers continued to plunge deep inside him, brushing against his most sensitive spot. His teeth sank into his bottom lip to prevent too much noise, despite the fact that at this point he could care less if someone walked out in saw them. Between Mirio’s mouth and those fingers, he was losing his mind. His nails were dug into the soft surface of the couch cushion and he wiggled violently, an action that caused him to clench down on Mirio’s fingers. 

The blond seemed to notice this and pulled up, separating his mouth from Tamaki’s cock with another pop. “Are you getting close sunshine? You’re so tight around my fingers. You're going to cum, aren’t you?” Mirio chuckled and swallowed his boyfriend once more, “Damn!” Tamaki cried out and bucked his hips. Mirio gagged softly as the tip hit the back of his throat, he swallowed around the hot flesh in an attempt to calm his gag reflex. It was kind of funny, how Tamaki could get sometimes. To the point of begging and even at rare times take control. Much like he was trying to do now. 

“Mm ...” He reached out, placing his hand on Tamaki’s stomach in an effort to stop his squirming. Applying just enough pressure to get his message through, but it didn’t seem like Tamaki was reacting well to it. His hips still tried to move which didn’t make Mirio’s job any easier. The blond groaned and rotated his fingers, pulling them back and violently shoving them back inside. The soft plush sound of his knuckles hitting Tamaki’s skin echoed softly between their own noises of pleasure. 

He could tell Tamaki was close, so why not step up his game? He continued to bob his head, tongue swirling around that shaft and an impressive amount of spit was dripping down, making its way towards Tamaki’s plush balls. “Ah! Mirio! Yes, I’m c-close, don’t ...stop, please! It feels so good, y-your mouth.” He couldn’t believe such words were coming from his lips but even so it seemed like Mirio was more than happy to oblige and continued his assault, fingers curling inside Tamaki’s tight hole. 

“Ah!” Tamaki clenched his jaw and leaned his head back. Stuttered breathes sounded as he curled his fingers tighter in those blond locks. Hips desperately thrusting as he felt his stomach tighten. “I-It’s coming! M-Mirio! I f-feel it!” He warned before a whine escaped as Mirio pulled his mouth away from Tamaki’s ready to blow member. “It’s alright, baby go ahead. You can cum in my mouth, better not to leave any evidence right?” He chuckled before engulfing Tamaki once more, an action that made the raven shiver. 

Getting back to work, Mirio could feel how Tamaki’s member twitched against his tongue. His fingers came to a slow stop as he felt the first few drops of semen against his tongue. “Mirio!” Tamaki hissed before clasping his hand over his mouth, his hips hovering just above the cushion of the couch as he felt his release. Filling Mirio’s mouth, almost a little too eagerly. But he knew his boyfriend loved a challenge.”Uh ...ah ...” Tamaki trembled in after pleasure and whimpered softly as he felt those fingers being pulled from his needy hole. 

 “Mm ...” Mirio smiled as he wiped the excess drippings from his lips and swallowed his boyfriend’s seed. Tamaki always tasted good. “Well, I think I can say that was a successful date night.” He spoke with a smile before turning to look over his shoulder. The movie credits were now displayed, rolling up the screen without care. He chuckled and turned back to Tamaki, hovering over the man that now covered his face in shame as he slowly came off from his high. “Tamaki?” Reaching over, he gently pulled those hands away and was greeted with a shy but satisfied face. 

“D-Did we really just ...” Tamaki began but Mirio only nodded in response. “We sure did! And you were so good Tamaki!” Mirio offered a kind smile and leaned forward to capture his boyfriend’s lips. “I love you sunshine! You’re the best ...but maybe we should take this to our dorm room now.” Tamaki frowned and reached for the nearest pillow. “You say that now!?” He cried as he hit Mirio with the soft object. Some date night indeed. 

[strawberryjmilk]

honeysuckles and dewdrops | part four

word count: 1435

songwriter!reader, idol!hyunjin

"Let's go on a field trip!" Yoo-mi cheered as she laid beside you. Pausing your scrolling — you'd found an Instagram dedicated to a rescue fox and were becoming obsessed — you looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She only grinned, "I mean it! Let's go somewhere later. My treat."

You snorted, "does that mean you're paying, or is it free?"

At her sheepish smile, you knew the answer. You rolled your eyes fondly — a field trip with Yoomi could literally just be a walk in the park. Or, it could be wandering around the JYP building until you both ended up in the studio. Whatever it was, it would be fun — you knew that much.

—

"This is the worst field trip ever," you said, slightly out of breath. Yoomi let out a shrill of giggles before collapsing to the floor beside you. As predicted, you ended up at a studio — a dance studio to be exact. And, you'd spent the last hour or so just hopping around ridiculously with Yoo-mi.

Although tiring, you had to admit you hadn't smiled so much in a while.

"Come on, Y/N!" Yoomi cheered as she bounced up again. A new song was playing now, one you recognized as BTS' Fake Love. Admittedly, you knew the correct choreography. So, scrunching your nose slightly, you stood up beside her and began to dance along lazily.

In the middle of the first verse — you'd just began to wag your finger at Yoomi as J-Hope did — a voice broke through the beat. "I told you I heard music."

You ignored it at first, too dazed and focused on the song you and Yoomi seemed to always drift back to. In the reflection of the mirror, you could faintly see nine figures tip-toe into the studio before sitting against the back wall. Again, you ignored it as the chorus hit.

You swayed one way as Yoomi stood in front of you, swaying the opposite way. A small grin was cracked on your lips as you mouthed along to the song. Jimin's part of the chorus came up — your hands flew to your mouth as you allowed your body to jerk along to the beat.

The song was finishing up now — you stood facing Yoo-mi, both of you holding one hand up. Until the song ended and she jerked her hand away as the choreo said to. The room went silent, only the two of you breathing heavily in the silence.

Polite, quiet claps started up, startling you. With wide eyes, you faced the back of the room where Stray Kids sat, beaming at the both of you. You squeaked, eyes widening and body freezing as Yoomi grinned back, bouncing up to them.

"You gremlins!" She spoke with a wide smile. They circled her, praising her dance skills as she giggled along. "You're all making me blush! Hold me, Felix, I'm swooning!"

You smiled softly — ah, always the background character. Sighing, you sat down to lean against the wall of mirrors, sipping from your water bottle. A figure popped their head out from the circle, smiling as he spotted you.

"You know," a voice began as he sat beside you. Turning, your eyes widened as you spotted none other than Hwang Hyunjin. His grinned only widened, his eyes copying the smile on his face. "You're good at dancing, too. What's your name? Are you a trainee? Yoomi said she was a soloist, but you two would be a really good duo."

"No, uh," you felt tongue tied and parched even though you just downed half a bottle of water. How could you not be nervous? The boy beside you was on a high pedestal, and you were lucky to even be at the foot of it. "I'm just Yoo's friend. And, personal songwriter, I guess."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, "that's new."

"Yeah," you let out a breathy laugh. He had no idea. "It's new for us, too."

The conversation dwindled down. You could feel Hyunjin's eyes raking across your face with curiosity as you watched the other boys still huddled around Yoomi. Every now and then, another head would peer out to smile and wave at you.

"Your name," Hyunjin spoke up again. You blinked, turning your head to him almost as if you forgot he was there. You kinda did, oops. His smile was softer this time, "you never told me your name."

"Y/N," you breathed. You cleared your throat, looking back to Yoo-mi again. "My name is Y/N."

Hyunjin grabbed your hand in a weak handshake. You took in a deep breath as he spoke again. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'll be seeing you a lot more, right?"

You shrugged, "I guess so."

I sure hope so.

—

Somehow, you ended up in Stray Kids' recording studio, watching as Yoo-mi laughed with her friends. Absentmindedly, you started gathering the small amount of wrappers and empty drink bottles that laid around.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Chan spoke with a sheepish grin. You only blinked. He gestured to the trash you held, watching as you walked to the trash can near the door. "Pick up after us. We can do it."

"Oh," you didn't even realize you were doing it. You tossed the mess into the trash can, shrugging lightly. By now, your awkward and odd habit had gained attention. "Uh-"

"It's a thing," Yoomi spoke up. She was between Jeongin and Seungmin on a couch, playing rock, paper, scissors with Hyunjin who was sitting on the floor. "Y/N cleans when she's nervous. You'll get used to it."

You scowled at her playfully. "You don't complain because I clean your dorm room, you goblin."

Yoomi only grinned more, shrieking lightly when Hyunjin threw out a rock, crushing her scissors. You leaned against a wall, just observing the loud and slowly-becoming-chaotic atmosphere.

Someone was beside you now, handing you a bottle of juice. You looked up at Woojin with a small smile, taking the drink from him with a meek "thanks."

Woojin hummed, his own eyes dancing around the room. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. "Something on your mind?"

You were staring, you realized. Staring at the way Yoomi looked at Hyunjin, and the way he looked at her. Staring at their hands that were clasped together loosely even if their attention wasn't on each other. Staring at how everyone seemed to give them second glances.

"I always knew the rumors — how everyone assumed they were dating," you began softly. You looked down at the bottle of juice you were holding, scraping your fingernail against the label in thought. You smiled, then. It felt melancholic and empty — you only glanced up at Woojin briefly before setting your eyes on the bottle again. "I see why now. And, I get it."

Woojin nodded slowly, a smile lifting the corner of his lips. "That's all they are — rumors. Nothing to think about." With that, he patted your shoulder before wandering over to Minho and Changbin.

Jisung's voice broke through your thoughts, "how do you know each other, anyways?"

He was talking to you and Yoo-mi, glancing between the two of you as he waited for an answer. You cleared your throat before answering. "I - this is embarrassing - I corrected her posture."

The room went silent before giggles flooded in. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you grimaced — you looked down to avoid having anyone see your embarrassed face.

"It's true!" Yoomi agreed. She let out another loud laugh, clapping her hands — you ignored the way Hyunjin beamed at her. "I was in an empty dance studio just singing along to this song half-assed, and suddenly, someone told me I was going to pass out if I kept my knees locked."

Hyunjin looked at you then, eyes brightening as his back straightened. You felt your cheeks heat up again. "Oh! Does that mean you knew Mimi could sing?" His question sent the other boys into a flurry.

"Oh, yeah! We all watched the video. You sounded so pretty!"

"How could you hide that from us?"

"You have to be my karaoke partner now!"

At this, you shrunk in on yourself. You looked to the ground, hoping no one noticed how small you were making yourself — how small the topic made you feel.

Someone did notice, though. And, as he squinted his eyes in confusion, he was determined to get the truth out of you. Whatever the truth was.

— this was originally going to be a cinderella-type au aka the y/n likes cleaning thing! i have a bts fic i kinda want to post here since its getting to be spooky season but idk thank you for reading! ♡

[chazukekani]

Analysis - BSD Chapter 77

Archive - 10th November 2019

The Casino Arc has been going on an on for few years already, yet I never feel a single sense of boredom. Background stories are told, philosophical topics are discussed, and characters are developing. I am more than happy and honoured to witness all the changes and progress made in Bungo Stray Dogs. This chapter continues the saga in the Sky Casino, and Asagiri twisted the plot, again.

-

First of all, a big shout out to our protagonist, Atsushi-kun. When Lucy rescued and transferred him to Anne’s room, they slack a little bit. BUT Atsushi is responsive enough to detect the sudden attack from Nathaniel, and protects Lucy from a shot. In terms of the ability to use his talent, Atsushi’s growth may be more difficult to spot, because from a third party point of view, we may take his responsiveness in crisis as granted. We have to aware that this is exactly Atsushi’s sensitivity, the story is thus able to continue smoothly. Touchwood, if Nathaniel really does shot Lucy, it’s consequences are incogitable. Similarly, it is also applicable to explain why Tachihara is finally determined to prove the Agency’s innocence. That is exactly Atsushi who act as a final key person to persuade Tachihara.

The Casino Arc has been going on an on for few years already, yet I never feel a single sense of boredom. Background stories are told, philosophical topics are discussed, and characters are developing. I am more than happy and honoured to witness all the changes and progress made in Bungo Stray Dogs. This chapter continues the saga in the Sky Casino, and Asagiri twisted the plot, again.

-

First of all, a big shout out to our protagonist, Atsushi-kun. When Lucy rescued and transferred him to Anne’s room, they slack a little bit. BUT Atsushi is responsive enough to detect the sudden attack from Nathaniel, and protects Lucy from a shot. In terms of the ability to use his talent, Atsushi’s growth may be more difficult to spot, because from a third party point of view, we may take his responsiveness in crisis as granted. We have to aware that this is exactly Atsushi’s sensitivity, the story is thus able to continue smoothly. Touchwood, if Nathaniel really does shot Lucy, it’s consequences are incogitable. Similarly, it is also applicable to explain why Tachihara is finally determined to prove the Agency’s innocence. That is exactly Atsushi who act as a final key person to persuade Tachihara.

Another little thought, remember Nathaniel is locked behind the door in Anne’s room? Would it be actually good for him to stay in Anne Room? Since it may represent that Nathaniel will no longer be manipulated by Fyodor / Decay of Angels, and to assassinate. When Margret is healed now, and Nathaniel seems to be safe (except for his mental health), I can see a potential reunion for them.

-

Tachihara, from being a sidekick in Black Lizard to the spotlight of the story, which even the fate of Agency lies within his hand, is GLOWING. A spy usually treats his mission as part of his work, and he should treat people besides him as enemy, but Tachihara doesn’t. Regardless you perceive it as kindness or stupidity, Tachihara treats the Black Lizard heart to heart. You can see him being lenient to Hirotsu and Gin even he meant to attack them; you can see Tachihara in fact treasures his colleagues; you can tell Tachihara values the advice that Hirotsu and Gin give him. Do not forget that Hirotsu serves the Port Mafia for decades, so I assume his judgement is accurate. I think Hirotsu,s impression on Tachihara can be his real form of personality, which Tachihara doesn’t aware either, and this really gives a huge recognition and inspiration to Tachihara. It wakes him up from the plan to revenge, or the hope to be like his brother. Hirotsu and Gin’s recognition tells Tachihara: who is Tachihara. He is free now. Tachihara is no one but himself. It thus allows Tachihara to think outside the box and to act according to his will. With free will, a person can ultimately make the correct decision for his own.

All the struggle about his identity, personality, goal and ability, brings out the debate of ‘soul and talent’, which I have mentioned in the analysis of the last chapter. How should one use his own talent with the ‘correct’ and ‘justified’ purpose, and act according to his own will, is the key struggle faced by all the characters. What is glad for Tachihara is that, he figures it out. Due to the courage from his colleagues / partners, he is able to recognise his goal, and not to be influenced by the  commands or any others. Does he find himself a mafia? Or does he want to be a soldier? I don’t know, but I can tell that Tachihara has found where his soul and talent are.

Nonetheless, I don’t think the Hunting Dogs necessary having a negative impact on Tachihara. As I have said, they treat him as their little brother, and take care of him on the first day when he returns to his post. Teruko even says Tachihara is talented is spying! I take it as a compliment because I personally think Teruko rarely praises people (oops!). In fact she also recognised Tachihara’s strength as well! Some may think the Hunting Dogs use / exploit Tachihara in order to achieve their own goals, but I do not think so. Hunting Dogs do not have the full information about the Agency, and surely they have to work as a team, and take advantage of Tachihara, who serves in the Port Mafia, in order to maximise their efficiency. That is a military activity, not a school project. It is necessary to utilise all the resources and information available for achieving the goal. So I think it is too early to comment on the relationship among Hunting Dogs, but still, I have a positive attitude towards it!

-

Ok, one last thing - the aliens’ chat. In my previous summary, many of you guys comment that Dazai’s mental health seems not to be okay. I agree. It has been a long time that he is locked up in the prison and facing his enemy 24/7. He is separated from his friends too. Yet I don’t think this is the reason why Dazai can no longer predict Fyodor’s plan. Fyodor and Dazai are considered as the same type of human beings whom are highly intelligent and wise. However, as the longer time that Dazai serves in the Agency, the more changes he undergoes. Dazai may no longer think like Fyodor because Dazai’s new working environment changes his perception. His companions in the Agency accept his past, and cares about him. Positive changes make Dazai no longer having the same mindset as Fyodor, because Fyodor is still a man in struggle or pain, I guess. That’s why the sun shines on Dazai, because he starts to appreciate the beauty of humanity.

On the other hand, both seemed to be the narrators for the battle, and giving extra information to readers, but they talk about something different this time. They are arguing / discussing the nature of god. It is not the first time that Asagiri raising the issue of the existence / nature of god:

So let’s assume God exists in the Asagiri Cinematic Universe‍‍. (￣∇￣)

-

I will do a separate section on why Asagiri-sensei keeps putting god element in the story, but let’s explore what Dazai and Fyodor have discussed. Dazai thinks God produces chaos; while Fyodor thinks God favours perfection. I personally lean towards the saying of Dazai because I always fuck things up. Everything is in chaos, but that is chaos which breeds possibility. That is exactly we know that there are thousands ways to go, we can produce something unthinkable - a miracle. When Tachihara awakes, part of The Page is destroyed.

It means that though The Book cannot be destroyed by any physical harm, a will can do so. Will, ideology or thoughts can be more powerful than any swords or guns, and that is what humans are fighting for.

The Casino Arc has been going on an on for few years already, yet I never feel a single sense of boredom. Background stories are told, philosophical topics are discussed, and characters are developing. I am more than happy and honoured to witness all the changes and progress made in Bungo Stray Dogs. This chapter continues the saga in the Sky Casino, and Asagiri twisted the plot, again.

[afternoonpoppy]

Your Turn Now

Intended to get something written for Thanksgiving a couple weeks ago, but I ended up going a bit off topic with that piece and also made some continuity errors that need some fixing up if I am going to put that on here.

In the meantime, Allister’s not much better than Wolfram sometimes when it comes to overeating, oops.

Allister had been surprised to find out that the topic of studying magic was not as different and otherworldly a pursuit as he’d originally imagined. In fact, it was quite familiar and reminiscent of his time spent studying in college. If only he hadn’t suffered all throughout college.

In his attempt to be of some help to Wolfram with studying magic, Wolfram had instructed Allister to begin memorizing the sigils that functioned as the written language for magic. Allister had initially assumed that to mean it would be a fairly easy step like learning an alphabet. As it had turned out, it was far more work than that.

“This particular symbol represents the concept of light, and is pronounced as ’vetru,’” Wolfram said, drawing a symbol consisting of multiple jagged lines on a stray piece of paper. “In this form, it can refer to the light given off by the sun or by fire, anything that might be considered to be ‘warm’ light. If you were to write it this way, however,” Wolfram redrew the sigil, inverting a line on top and curving it more, “- then this would refer to 'cold’ light such as the moon and stars.”

“Uh… Right,” Allister scribbled the sigil - to the best of his ability - along with some hasty notes in his notebook. He felt like he should have been using a hefty leatherbound tome and a quill pen of some sort for this, but a college-ruled composition notebook and a dollar store pen that threatened to leak ink over the pages if pressed too hard would have to do. “When you say stars are, uh, 'cold’ light…”

“Yes?”

“Uh… Never mind.” Allister thought better of derailing the conversation into the gaseous makeup of stars. Besides, maybe stars worked differently in Wolfram’s world.

“You should ask questions if you have any, it’s essential to learning new topics,” Wolfram lectured.

“No, really, it’s unrelated.” Allister shifted position in his chair and one of his feet kicked aside a book that had somehow made its way to the floor. He looked around, suddenly realizing just what a mess the study had become over the past while. Paper and books were beginning to clutter the floor as space was lost on the desk. Granted, that was bound to happen quicker than usual since both Allister and Wolfram were sharing desk space. A second chair had been dragged up the stairs from the kitchen, something Allister hadn’t realized would be more of a hassle than simply studying in the kitchen until after he’d already made it most of the way up the stairs. “Hey, Fram, should we clean some of this stuff up?”

Wolfram glanced away from the desk long enough to see the floor and say, “Oh, I had forgotten.” He paused, then looked at Allister with a raised eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be ‘Fram?’”

Allister grinned a bit. “What? I thought it sounded cute, you don’t like it?”

Wolfram thought over it for a moment. “It is… different, but I don’t dislike it.” With a hand gesture and a string of 'magic words’ as Allister had continued to dub the arcane language, a mote of light appeared in Wolfram’s hand. Wolfram gently spoke a command to it and it leaped to the ground in the form of a weasel.

Allister watched the spirit scurry over to some of the books and begin pulling them to the bookshelves. “You make that look so easy. Do they alphabetize the books, too?”

Wolfram conjured two more spirits before setting them loose into the room, then said, “No, of course not. They can’t read.”

“Oh. Well, they’re still helpful. Can you teach me to do that?”

“Eventually, yes,” Wolfram looked out the study window where the sun was beginning to lower and the sky was dimming. “Perhaps not today, if that is what you meant.”

Allister flipped through the few pages he’d filled over their study session, unsure if he should be taking more thorough notes on this. “No, I didn’t think so. We’ve been at this for a while already, though. Should we take a break?”

Wolfram looked back at Allister. “Oh. Is this still a lot for you?”

“Well, uh,” Allister fumbled with the notebook in his hands, laughing nervously. Mostly, he was just tired and not keeping up with Wolfram’s method of marathon learning, but Wolfram wasn’t wrong, either. “I just figured, maybe we should get something to eat.”

Wolfram nodded slowly, then leaned himself against Allister’s shoulder. “I understand if this is difficult for you. I will not mind or judge you if you need to slow down.”

Allister smiled and reached his arm around Wolfram’s waist. “I know I’m not the supreme sorcerer that you are. But this is important to you, so I’m going to try my best.”

“I appreciate that.” Wolfram sat up and looked Allister in the eye. “However, I will not object if you think now is a good time for a meal.”

Allister opted to place an order for pickup, rather than let a delivery driver wander the wooded backroads to the house. Wolfram had objected to the idea of food cooked by anyone other than Allister, but there was no way Allister was doing anything else on his day off other than a thirty-minute round trip for food if he was already studying magic of all things. So, dinner would be Chinese takeout instead, complete with whatever movie seemed like it would make a good change of pace to watch on TV. Allister didn’t know How It’s Made had so many seasons.

Despite Wolfram’s objections about the food, he seemed to quickly take a liking to it and had cleared his plate of dumplings and fried rice before the movie had really even gone anywhere. Allister had half a mind to suggest Wolfram not eat so fast before he realized his own plate wasn’t fairing much better, being nearly devoid of food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was before, nor how full he was starting to feel now. He placed his plate on the living room coffee table, figuring it would be a good idea to separate himself from the food before he overate. Allister leaned back on the couch, hand resting on his stuffed stomach. Maybe it was too late to avoid the overeating part.

Once Wolfram was done with his own food, he settled in closer to Allister, pressing up against him.

“I never would’ve thought you’d be so cuddly when we first met, you know,” Allister observed.

Wolfram rested his head on Allister’s shoulder. “And I hadn’t expected you would make such a good pillow.”

Allister chuckled, but he was becoming increasingly aware of Wolfram’s arm pressed up against his sensitive stomach. “Good to know, Fram, but my stomach’s not as happy about that right now.”

“Oh?” Wolfram pouted for just a moment before straightening his posture and lifting himself off of Allister. “Is that better?”

Allister had intended to answer, only to be interrupted by a loud HIC that cut him off. He clasped a hand over his mouth just in time to muffle a second hiccup into a still-loud HMPH sound. “Ugh, crap…”

Wolfram looked startled at the sudden appearance of Allister’s hiccups, but quickly switched to a more amused expression. “It’s good to see I am not the only one of us who gets them.”

“Yes, we - HIC - well you wouldn’t - HUC-UP - get them so - HUC - so mu - HIC -” Allister gave up on talking despite his intent to point out Wolfram’s poor eating habits. It was clear his hiccups weren’t going to let him make that point.

Wolfram watched Allister struggling with the nonstop chain of hiccups bouncing through his chest and stomach. “Are they always this… aggressive when you have them?”

Allister nodded. “Don’t get - HIC - get them oft - HIC-UP - often, but - HYUC - but -”

“Right, I understand,” Wolfram said, holding up a hand so Allister didn’t need to finish the sentence. “Should I get a glass of water for you?”

“M-may - HIC - maybe,” Allister said. On the one hand, it may help, but the thought of filling his stomach with anything else, especially with how his hiccups were constantly bouncing through his stomach and shuffling around everything he’d eaten, was less than an appealing idea.

Wolfram seemed to key into that same thought, seeing how Allister pressed a hand against his stomach. “Or… perhaps holding your breath would be a better option?”

Allister shook his head, knowing that was definitely a terrible idea. “Makes - HIC-UP - makes 'em wor - HIC - worse.”

Wolfram raised an eyebrow. “They have room to be worse? Love, fate is cruel to you. I’m going to fetch you a glass of water as I think you’ll suffer less if your hiccups at least stop.”

Allister grimaced but was in little position to argue with his hiccups still interrupting him every other word. When Wolfram returned from the kitchen shortly after, Allister opted to get it over with, taking the glass of water he was handed and gulping it down as quickly as his body would allow.

“Well?” Wolfram asked expectantly once Allister had finished the water.

Allister had to catch his breath at first while the sudden influx of cold water settled in his stomach. Much like he’d expected, forcing the extra liquid into his stomach had not ended well as he noticed how bloated and tight his stomach was by the end of it. On the bright side, at least, not a single hiccup had forced its way through him. “I… I think they stopped…”

Wolfram made something of a victorious “hmph” sound and smiled, sitting back down next to Allister. “Much better. Are you feeling alright?”

Allister rubbed a hand over his stomach and groaned as he became aware of the growing ache in his stomach. “Maybe I should have gone slower with the water…”

“Here, let me make it up to you. Lie down.” Wolfram gently pulled Allister closer, lying him down across his lap. “Comfortable?”

“Mm…” Allister nodded. It was as comfortable as he was going to get, anyway. “Does this mean it’s your turn to take care of me?”

“I imagine it’s only fair, isn’t it?” Wolfram traced his hands over Allister’s stomach, commenting, “I always thought you were the more restrained between us.”

“For your information, I was holding up alright before you made me drink all that water. Besides, do I hear you admitting to your own gluttony?”

“Don’t make me use your precarious position against you, Allister,” Wolfram poked a finger against the side of Allister’s stomach. Gently, though.

Allister rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a mean enough bone in your body for it, Fram. But, uh… Thanks for this.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, but, I know you’re… probably not used to this stuff, right?”

“Hm… Not with most people, no. But you’re my lo…” The confidence in Wolfram’s voice suddenly wavered as if that last word got caught in his throat, a hesitant expression coming over his face. He cleared his throat and poorly faked some composure as he shakily whispered, “M-my lo-lover… So - so, this is the least I can do for you, isn’t it?”

The term threw Allister off a bit and brought a blush to his face. He had thought 'boyfriend’ was fine enough, but he realized terminology probably varied a bit between his and Wolfram’s worlds. Despite the more intense sound of it to Allister’s ears, though, it was wonderful to hear that. “I appreciate it, Fram. I’m really happy you’re here with me.”

Allister glanced over to the TV, realizing neither had been paying any attention to it, and reached for the remote on the coffee table to hand it to Wolfram. “Here, if you keep massaging my stomach, you can put on whatever you want.”

Wolfram’s eyes lit up at the offer. “Gladly.”

[sweetpxsin]

Stray kids First Kiss with you

Requester: @Taepher (wattpad)

Requested:Fluff

Member: Strays Kids

Plot:can we have the first kiss and all the boys’ reactions? like ‘your first kiss’ or something 😹

Genre:fluff

Note:I've been so out of writing recently so it’s a bit rusty and short forgive me

Masterlist

[ C H A N ]

•a bit hesitant about it

•but only because he wants it to be perfect

•not too rushed nor drawn out

•and when he does find the courage to kiss you, he’d politely ask you “can I?”

•Might mumble a “god your so pretty” before finally kissing you

•It’s a long but soft kiss

•And when you pull back your giggling at how he subconsciously follows your lips, for another kiss

•which in turn results in Chan peppering your face and lips in kisses, till your pushing him away in a fit of giggles

[ W O O J I N ]

•is a lowkey a gentlemen that waits for the perfect moment, without much thought

•might not seem like it but he’s really nervous when that moment comes

•cause god did you look so beautiful to him

•they type to cup your face gently in his hands and playfully squish your cheeks

•just to lighten up the nerve wrecking atmosphere, and cause he loved your smile

•the kiss was sweet and short

•before you both dive into another one, just as sweet and passionate, but lingering for longer

•afterwards he’d be all smiley and cute about it

[ M I N H O ]

•Isn’t really particularly nervous, honestly speaking

•has actually been waiting for this moment his whole life

•especially since he noticed you had a habit for rambling for whatever the reason being

•and on one particular day he decided it would be the perfect time, to use your habit to his advantage

•especially since the topic of interest for your rambling was what you should wear

•he  had watched you scramble across the room for a short while before pushing himself off the wall calling your name, making you come to a halt

•and once he was in front of you he’d cup your face watching how you’d pout before finally dipping down to capture your lips

•afterwards he’d reassure you on your previous concern

•probably saying something along the lines of

•”You look perfect to me in anything”

•before pulling you into another sweet kiss

[ C H A N G B I N  ]

•Sorta in the moment first kiss

•Like you were being so cute he dropped his uwu’s faster than his mixtapes

•And like it sorta initiated a playful fight between you two

•like he was threatening to tickle you if you didn’t stop acting so cute

•So of course you continued just to get a kick out of it

•which in turn ended with him chasing you around the apartment

•and once he had finally caught you he had pinned to the closest thing possible which was his bed

•Though the thought wasn’t in his head at first, just seeing how beautiful you looked giggling happily underneath him, urged him to kiss you first

•the being sweet and gentle as his hand fell from your wrist to gently cup your cheeks

•and once he pulled back he’d have a huge goofy grin on his lips as he whispered an “I love you so freaking much.”

[ H Y U N J I N ]

•undoubtedly nervous, to the point he has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans every now and then

•It was your guys first date as an official couple, and it was him that wanted to end the perfect night with your guys first kiss

•But he wasn’t quite sure when the perfect moment would be

•especially with the time ticking away he only seemed to get more nervous

•thought one look at you marveling at the star ridden sky, with the occasional fireworks going off

•he knew that was the perfect moment he was looking for

•and when you looked at him with that adorable smile he loved he took a moment to admire you before moving in for a kiss

•the kiss being short and sweet ending with the both of you looking at each other with huge smiles

•before Hyunjin sealed the space in between the two of you once again, this time allowing the kiss to be longer

[ J I S U N G ]

•Is a nervous but a little hesitant

•Thought it was only because he didn’t want to rush into things

•Especially if you weren’t ready

•and to say the least when the moment finally came to be, it was pretty unplanned

���Jisung and you typically lingered at your lockers

•but this time around both of you were decently more affectionate

•With him leaning on his locker, your bodies pressed together as you looked at each other affectionately

•Though he wasn’t think about it in the moment

•all he had to do was look down at you smiling up at up him, with your arms wrapped around each other for him to know this was the moment he was waiting for

•one of his hands left your waist to cup your face, while he leaned down

•but since both of you are really nervous y’all cutely bum noses when he pressed a quick kiss to your lips

•though both of you giggle as if nothing happened and lean in for another softer and sweeter kiss no noses bumped

[ F E L I X ]

•one of those extra dramatic kdrama kisses

•well not exactly oops

•it’s more like you both were messing around and making fun of how dramatic kdrama were

•like mocking the famous wiping the crumbs off a person's face

•but at one point while Felix and you were messing around he had decided to pin you to the wall

•slamming one of his hands on the wall besides your head as he dramatically looked up at you trying to look serious (failing miserably)

•soon enough you both were in a fit of giggles, Felix’s somehow arms wrapping around your waist and your hands cupping his face

•and the moment seems so surreal that you both natural gravitated towards each, eyes flickering to your lips before finally kissing you

•it was short and sweet but had both of you smiling like idiot by the end of it

[ S E U N G M I N ]

•a very unexpected kiss

•Seungmin and you had just randomly decided to go on a date after school

•cause one why not, and cause two it was a Friday night

•Neither of you were expecting for your first kiss to happen that day tbh

•but Seungmin was being such a gentlemen while walking around with you

•that when he decided to fight you on who should pay at the cafe

•you had decided to shut him up with a sweet and short kiss before slipping off to go pay

•knowing damn well he’d be all flustered and cute

•though you didn’t expect him to pull you down for an innocent but longer kiss, because apparently pecks aren’t real first kisses

[ J E O N G I N ] (shoutout to @why-haechan for helping me with this one <3)

•another one of those in the moment kisses

•like Jeongin wasn’t intending for it to happen but it just happened

•he was waiting for you to come out of the airport gates and he was so excited he was practically bouncing off the walls

•and once he saw you, before he could even think twice, was already running towards you

•he was running so fast that once he hugged you both of you kinda stumbled

•but he was going you no time to think once both of got balanced

•all he knew was that he was so happy to see you he could kiss you

•and that’s exactly what he did once he cupped your face, squished your cheeks a little to see that lovely smile of yours

•before finally dipping down for a kiss

•though it was so fast because he couldn’t even believe what he just did

•but since you were so happy and excited you’d cup his face and pull him down into another kiss, this time letting it last a little while longer

[klaineanummel]

unexpected 3/24?

Blaine Anderson was just about the last thing Professor Kurt Hummel expected out of a TA.

Because I'm so behind, I'm cheating a little bit and using the @klaineadvent prompt for day 4 (deputy) for this chapter, even though technically this should be day 3. oops?  Hope you enjoy anyway!!

Read on AO3  |  Previous Chapter

Soon enough the sun has set on the day before classes begin and has risen on the first day of classes.

They’re beginning on a Wednesday this year, for god knows what reason, but Kurt is thankful since he only has two classes to teach on Wednesday’s. One is a small seminar, only for Music Studies senior students, and the other is his Popular Music 101 lecture.

It’s his largest class, and only one of two lecture classes he’s kept on since becoming a full-time professor. Although he much prefers seminar-style classes, where he and the students can bounce ideas off each other, he can’t deny his love for this particular class. He’s been honing the syllabus for eight years now and is very proud of what he manages to do in the class every year.

It’s also the reason that he is assigned more TA’s than anybody else in his department. As there are only a few lecture-style classes in the music department, most professor’s don’t need more than one or two TA’s across all their classes. Kurt is always given four – three for Popular Music 101, and one for Musical Composition 102.

Usually he’s grateful for the extra hands, but this year…

Well, let’s just say that this year the extra hands caused him to have a very interrupted sleep before his first day of classes.

He continues thinking about it on his way to work. All the thoughts that kept him tossing and turning all night continue to bombard him, barely allowing him a moments rest.

He’s a TA. He’s your TA. You’re technically his boss, and he’s technically a student.

But he’s older than me. He has far more life experience. He worked in business only a decade less than I’ve been alive.

You’re in a position of power over him, on multiple levels. It would be wrong.

He’s genuine and kind, and he isn’t some twenty-year-old twink trying to flirt his way to a better grade.

He has two grown children, but no ring, which means his familial situation has to be complicated on some level.

He might not even be gay.

He’s so pretty.

It’s hopeless. By the time he’s reached campus all he’s managed to do is twist his brain up into more of a knot than it already was.

He forces himself to take deep breaths as he begins the walk from the subway station to Popular Music 101. Thank god it’s just the first day. He doesn’t know how he’d be able to lecture for an hour and a half with his mind in its current state.

By the time he reaches the lecture hall it’s already filled with the voices of three-hundred-plus students. He notices Blaine, Mercedes, and Tina all sitting together in the front row, but all engaged in different conversations with students around them.

He approaches the podium, happy to see the syllabi he asked his TA’s to print out are all present and accounted for. Four large stacks of them. He’s thankful. One year his TA’s forgot to do it, which meant he had to lug over three-hundred syllabi from the staff printing room back to the hall. It was not a fun day.

“Good morning, everybody,” he says into the microphone at the podium. He waits for the students to notice him and begin to shush each other. Once the only sound is a couple of stray whispers, he continues, “I’m Professor Kurt Hummel, and this is Popular Music 101.”

He begins his introductory spiel; ten minutes on his expectations for the students and the course, how the grading works, how he will mark their attendance and participation. Once that is finished, he turns to his TA’s.

“Now, before we hand out the syllabus, I’d like to introduce you to my deputies for this semester. Blaine, Mercedes, Tina, come on up.”

The three stand up, and Mercedes confidently makes her way up to the podium. Blaine follows, which Tina coming last, looking a little hesitant.

“Hello, everybody,” Mercedes says. “I’m Mercedes Jones. I’m in my third and final year of my master’s in Music Studies, specializing in Music Education. I’m writing my thesis on the importance of music in low-income schools. This is my second year TA-ing this class for Professor Hummel, and I’m very excited to be here.”

She steps aside, allowing Blaine to come up next. He gives her the gentlest smile, and Kurt just has to look away.

“Hi,” Blaine begins. “My name is Blaine Anderson. I’m a first-year graduate student, getting my master’s in Music Business. I still haven’t decided on my thesis topic,” he sends Mercedes a wink when he says it, which somehow just makes the girl laugh and not melt into the puddle Kurt feels he is melting into. “As you can tell, I’m a little older than the other TA’s, but I promise that doesn’t mean I will be stricter on you. I also promise not to try too hard to relate to you with any cool, hip slang.”

A few people chuckle at that, and Blaine takes a step back with a bashful smile. Kurt wonders if he has literal cartoon hearts floating over his head, because it certainly feels like he does.

“Um, hello,” Tina says. “I’m Tina Cohen-Chang. Like Blaine, I’m in my first year of Music Business. Also undecided thesis. Also very excited to be here.” She steps back after that, and Blaine instantly comes up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it lightly. She smiles up at him, some tension clearly releasing from her body.

Kurt forces himself to look away and head back to the podium. “Just so you know, all three TA’s will have office hours once a week, and I will have office hours twice a week. Mercedes, Blaine, and Tina will have office hours Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 2pm to 4pm, respectively. My office hours will be Tuesday’s and Thursday’s from 10:30am to 12:30pm. Don’t worry,” he says, seeing several students frantically scribbling the information down. “I’ll send out an email later with all this information, as well as our wonderful TA’s emails.”

Once he sees a couple of understanding nods from his students, he says, “Alright, I think that’s almost everything I had planned. We’ll hand out the syllabus now, go over it briefly, and then you’re free to go.”

He nods his TA’s over, encouraging them each to take a stack of syllabi. He takes one as well, then begins the climb to the last few rows. He glances over and notices that Blaine has done the same on the other side of the hall.

He can hear Blaine quietly speaking with all the students as he hands out the packets, and really, he needs to stop doing things that make him more attractive to Kurt. Though, at this point, that seems like an impossibility. It’s becoming clear that it’s simply Blaine that Kurt is attracted to. Everything else just adds to that attraction.

Once all the syllabi are handed out, Kurt heads back to the front of the room to give a brief overview of its contents. He then asks if there’s any questions, and, after there are none, lets his students know that they are free to go.

A few students stick around to chat with Kurt, as well as with the TA’s. He can see Tina become less uncomfortable as she chats with the students one-on-one, but Blaine and Mercedes are absolute naturals.

It’s at least twenty minutes before all the students have evacuated the hall, leaving only Kurt and his TA’s.

“Need us to stick around for anything, Professor Hummel?” Mercedes asks.

“No, no, get going. Enjoy the class being over so quickly.”

Mercedes and Tina leave quickly, saying their goodbyes as they go. Blaine, frustratingly, isn’t so quick to pack up.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this already,” Blaine says, slowly putting his things back into his bag. “But I’m really looking forward to working with you this semester.”

He slings his bag over his shoulders, then waves a quiet goodbye to Kurt, who stares after him like a moron.

Oh, thank god Blaine doesn’t know just how much Kurt is looking forward to working with him as well.

Chapter Four - Exclude

[ellipsesarefun]

Gossip.

Voltron fanfic.

390 prompts: 60, 61, 48, 7

A/N: prompt dialogues are italicized. Oh and that gossip really is true. Just.. tweaked it a bit. hahaha.

Cramming, studying, cramming. That's what everyone's been doing lately. Keith certainly isn't the exception to the rule. He has his own Embryology and Cell Biology notes to revise, as well as a Genetics report sheet to work on, and a thesis paper to draft and edit. He stacks up his textbooks and notebooks in one side and then rests the notebook, pen, and highlighter in front. 

Right. Everything is already settled. Keith was about to begin when a thunk sounded on the table and a large groan ringing his ears. Keith exhales an air he'd been holding in and ignores the person beside him.

"I can't do this anymore." Says his unsolicited seatmate. The familiar whiny voice is Lance, all right. Keith keeps his eyes on the paper, scribbling his notes.

"Fuck..." He hears Lance curse, "I feel like I've been hit by a car." Keith flicks a page and he continues his actions. Another sigh breaks loose but Keith steels his ignorance and careens away from his seatmate. He slides his textbook over and cracks open to a bookmarked page. 

Lance grumbles and repeats his complaints for what seems the second time (because somehow he's a never-ending stream of those Keith cares less to count). Keith shoots a glance to Lance shoving his books and notebooks; he smiles. 

"Frankly I couldn't care less." Keith obliges a reply. His retort is rewarded with a dry look. 

"I couldn't either." A third party intervenes. Keith turns to tousled ash orange hair and circular wire-rimmed glasses. 

"Hey Pidge." They bump fists and she pulls out a chair beside him.

"Watcha readin'?" She asks, straying away from his gaze to arch an eyebrow at Lance. She returns to her question to Keith before Lance starts a rapport. 

"Just on the chick embryo serial slide I missed to take pictures on." He says, lightly sliding towards her where the text faces her direction, "Do you have pics?" 

"Yea, hold on." She takes out her phone and shoves it to his side and continues to rummage through her things for other school materials. Without hesitation, he grasps it in his hands, swiping the password. He's done this a thousand times that Pidge wouldn't sick her robot on him whenever he looks at her messages by accident. Lance, however...

He glances at his other seatmate, who was already propped beside his shoulder, shining blue eyes fixated on the phone screen. 

Eh. Keith shrugs and thumbs the picture folder icon. The folder opens and he scrolls through the visual gallery. Somehow, there's quite enough slides that he's a little confused which one he's looking for. Her Histology class must be tackling the gastro-intestinal tract, he muses. When pink blobs take over the screen, he stops. He squints and taps on one of the pictures, revealing a pink blob of chick embryo with labeled parts in arrows and boxes.

"No way." Lance says, impressed, "Who has the time to do those things?" Keith snorts.

"People who like to ace in class handled by professors with favoritism issues." Pidge grumbles. She quickly arranges her notebooks and yellow pads in systematic order.

"Aren't you a Professor's favorite, though?" Lance points a finger at her. "Far from it!" She exclaims, batting his finger away from her line of sight, "I mean sure I get high grades but I'm more of a menace than an angel and professors don't like that. It's Acxa who is..."

"And that's a problem because...?" Lance trails off, and gestures at her with a tilt of his head to finish the sentence. She shakes her head.

"It's not Acxa who's the problem. It's Professor Haggar who is." Pidge rants. This isn't the first time Keith's seen her this haggard over anything (or anyone) but the overexaggerated squint of the eyes and warped frown is a sight. Even Lance is slowly backing away from Keith's side.

"What's this about Professor Haggar?" A muffled voice asks. All heads turn to Hunk munching on a cookie. Behind him follows Allura. Another beat of silence hasn't passed as Lance reiterates on Pidge's misery. When he finishes, the two have already taken their respective seats on the table. Beside Pidge, Hunk nods along.

"Yea, I get what you mean." Hunk empathizes as he chews the cookie on his stubby fingers, "Haggar has always been so moody. For the most part, she's okay with everyone except on her worst days." He opens his mouth, expecting the soft chocolate chip goodness on his tongue, only to munch on thin air. Hunk gasps, darting around for the cookie thief. His heated gaze lands on Lance, who was licking the remains of his last beloved bite.

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!" Hunk exclaims. The awful cookie thief merely smiles, not an ounce of guilt present in his smug look.

"Oops. Sorry. I was pretty hungry." His nonchalant demeanor wavers when chiding looks shoot at him from everyone around the table. Lance huffs and shrugs. Allura shakes her head and sighs.

"She quite has a noticeable favoritism, though." Allura chimes beside Hunk, tucking a lock of her white hair behind her ear,  "Sometimes she does cater to her students needs, but only when she seems available.  She often goes out for 'coffee breaks'," she draws air quotes, "but doesn't come back until the class session is over. There was an instance when Shiro spotted her with Professor Coran at the Tropical Hut by Altea Avenue."

"But You can't blame her." Hunk reasons, "Usually her Histology and Embryology lab classes are from eleven in the morning up until two in the afternoon. Of course she's going to be hungry at some point? Even the students go out to eat for thirty minutes."

"Yes, Hunk, but to not returning to her class until the session almost ends by ten or twenty minutes?" Allura rapports on. She exhales a frustrated sigh and fiddles with her long white curls. Pidge looks down to her right as her teeth gnaw at the bottom of her lip.

"I mean Histology and Embryology lab sessions are mostly looking at the slides and consulting the textbook?" Pidge says. Keith nods and looks at Allura. 

"Yea, and she always makes it a point to lecture a summary of the whole concept before she leaves us to our work." He says, "You really can't blame her." 

"But still." Allura insists with a glare. They all relent.

"Well, we can all agree that she has a tad bit of favoritism." Hunk says.

"More like over the top with an icing of her moodiness." Pidge mumbles. 

"True." That Keith can attest to. He's heard stories from a couple of his seniors about her. She had been a little too generous with certain students, like Acxa. Allowing extra questions after class, even to the point where she allows her favorites to her office.. Not once had he witnessed Professor Haggar snap at Acxa. And he's been with her throughout their entire block-terms and several other classes where Professor Haggar managed, as well as numerous study sessions with the rest of Acxa's group of friends.

Rumors fly around as her being terror thesis advisor. She has been known to provide vague instructions to students who are new to the field yet is seen to be helpful and hands on to specific people.. Would snap at anyone at certain times when they make a mistake yet would calmly criticize to a select few. So yea. Pidge has a point. 

"Hey guys, am I late?" All heads turn again to find a hulk of a man with an undercut bed-hair, dark circles under his eyes and two colored shoes. 

"Hey Shiro." Keith greets him. The said man lights up before flickering his eyes around his upper body.

"Hey, have you seen the...?" He maneuvers his hands around, circling himself until his hand reaches a paper stuck to his back, "Oh."  

"Are you okay?" Keith asks. Shiro turns around to him with a tired smile.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" He folds the paper and settles it on the table by the empty seat.

"You're wearing two different shoes."  Keith gestures down. Shiro follows his gaze and jolts at the sight. 

"Oops. I-oh god." He says, mortified. Keith waves a hand.

"It's all good, Shiro. We don't mind one bit." Keith assures him. Everyone else agrees along with him. He watches Shiro's face fall lax as he slouches down on his seat in between Pidge and Hunk. He closes his eyes and wow, does Keith see the thickness of those bags.

"I'm gonna nap for a few minutes." Shiro whispers, "Wake me up in a few minutes." They all say their affirmations before they return to whatever it is they're doing. The topic on Haggar has died down and Pidge is now scanning her notes. Hunk, Allura and Lance do the same, with another topic at hand. Keith casts a smile at the snoring Shiro and he quietly steers back to his notes. 

Sigh.

[thewildwilds]

Inspired by this post by @keepeith! A little something to let y’all know I’m still writing when I can!

He flips the table, and Peko yanks on his arm; they both duck to the floor, right when the first shot rings out.

He crowds himself back, shoulders flush against the wood. Peko keeps her head low, one hand against his knee to ensure he’s still there.

“Oops,” Fuyuhiko says, with a crooked grin he can’t help.

In his defense, it’s not their fault. It’s the truth this time. They’re innocent bystanders in this whole thing, even if their reasons for being there aren’t entirely pure.

They had been invited to a conference with the heads of the city’s major crime factions. Neither of them had expected it, considering how much derision they still get from society, but with their foothold in the criminal underworld still rocky at best, it had been in their best interest to attend.

It was meant to be a peace conference. (Neither he nor Peko kept their guards down.)

They hadn’t arrived late, but the rest of the faction leaders were already at their places at the table: Ryou Sekiguchi from the Sekiguchi Clan, an older man with a pockmarked face, Ieyasu Tsukiyomi from the Razan Group, who was as wide as he was tall, and Kuno Ichihara from the Dusk Gang, a guy in an expensive suit who looked no older than twenty. (He was wearing a scowl that reminded Fuyuhiko of himself ten years ago.)

The remaining empty spot at the table was for the Kuzuryuu Clan; they’d given him and Peko only one chair. Just one, and the implication was not lost on them. (They’re walking on eggshells here. They won’t antagonize, but they won’t roll over either.) Despite Sekiguchi’s pointed look, or the way Ichihara smirked, neither he nor Peko had missed a beat. He sat down in the chair, like he was meant to, like they had offered, while Peko gracefully slid into his lap.

“Shall we commence?” Peko had said, still managing to look regal even balanced on his legs.

The conference had proceeded amiably, despite earlier attempts to derail their composure. They had agreed on most topics, and, when Peko had laid matters out in that intense, logical way she does, begrudgingly accepted the rest. Tensions had only come to a head when Tsukiyomi and Ichihara began arguing over the handling on some bookmaking scheme they’ve got going on. Even Peko’s attempts to deescalate the situation hadn’t helped. That’s when, in a fit of frustration, Ichihara had pulled out his gun.

None of them were supposed to bring any weapons. They were asked to leave them at the door. It seems Ichihara hadn’t listened.

Sekiguchi had responded, slamming his hand on the table and demanding he drop the gun right now. Instead Ichihara had fired the first shot.

(Fuyuhiko has to take back his previous assessment. Ichihara is not like he was ten years ago. He was never that bad.)

Now they’re huddling behind a table for safety while shots whiz over their heads. The room is a cacophony of shouts and noise. The doors had flown open as soon as all the associates and underlings waiting outside had heard the commotion.

Peko looks at him. She’s not smiling, but she doesn’t look angry. “It could’ve been worse,” she says.

She’s right. They could have been the targets of Ichihara’s ire. Ichihara could have brought more than a shitty air pistol. All things considered, it’s been a pretty good day.

None of them were supposed to bring any weapons. They were asked to leave them at the door. But Ichihara isn’t the only one willing to bend the rules for insurance. Fuyuhiko has a switchblade stashed in his back pocket, and Peko has a knife hidden beneath her sleeve. In their defense, it’s not like they planned to use them. They’re just there. Just in case…

Peko peeks over the table, as much as she knows she can handle without him getting nervous. “He’s exhausted most of his clip. His accuracy leaves much to be desired. He may be firing only warning shots, or he may be frazzled, but he’s most certainly inexperienced. None of his subordinates are carrying.” She throws him a knowing look. “We can handle them.”

Fuyuhiko sighs. “I love it when you talk like that.”

She smiles, finally, cheeks pink. He can never fucking handle it when she gets all intense like that, so he doesn’t try. He leans in, she does too, like gravity, and they meet like that in the middle.

The kiss only lasts for a second. They break apart when a stray pellet clips the edge of the table, showering the two of them in splintered wood.

He knows he should tell her, “Later,” when things have settled and they’re back home and bullets aren’t flying all over the room. There are more important things to deal with at the moment, technically speaking. What he ends up saying, with a playful grin, is, “One more. For luck.”

She smiles again, a little exasperated, a lot amused, as he cups her face between both hands and pecks her once more on the lips.

[mysterygreentea]

I wrote a little EriChoro fic for @itadaki-matsu, because she’s such an amazing person and I wanted to surprise her <3

Hope you like it!

(I’m on mobile so I can’t put it under read more, sorry!!)

—————

It’s a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly in the cloudless blue sky. You smile to yourself, glad that it’s so nice out. Otherwise you wouldn’t be strolling through the park right now, a strawberry crepe in one hand, your other hand intertwined with your boyfriend Choromatsu’s hand.

“Should we find a place to sit while we eat our crepes?” he asks now, scoping out the park for someplace suitable to sit. He seems relaxed, more so than he usually does, and he’s smiling a little too. He has such a cute smile, you can’t help but think, and you want to see more of it.

“What about over there?” you suggest, pointing to a bench under the shade of a tall tree. “It looks like it might be cooler there.”

“Okay,” Choromatsu agrees with a nod, following you over there.

You settle down side-by-side, still holding hands, and begin to eat your crepes. They’re so sweet and delicious, and you savor each bite.

Choromatsu glances at you. “Oh, Erin-Chan, you have a little whipped cream on your lip.” He points to a spot on his own mouth to indicate.

“Oh…” You lick the spot he points out. “Did I get it…?”

“No, here.” Choromatsu leans in, brushing his fingers against your mouth as he wipes away the cream himself. The light touch of his hand against your face makes your skin tingle a little. “There, it’s gone now.”

“Thank you, Choromatsu,” you say, your cheeks warming up. You wonder if you’re blushing, but don’t mind much. Choromatsu often blushes enough for the two of you combined, and he’s not likely to point it out.

The two of you chat as you eat. The topic shifts to an idol concert you’re both interested in going to, which is enough to keep you both talking for awhile.

As you talk, though, you notice there’s a stray dollop of whipped cream on Choromatsu’s cheek. An idea pops into your mind, and you can’t help but smile a little at the thought, so you decide to go through with it.

“Choro, you have a little cream on your cheek,” you comment, interrupting him as he’s describing the venue where the concert is being held. “Want me to get it for you?”

“Oh, um, okay?” Choromatsu shrugs, a little perplexed.

You lean in to him, close to his face, just as he’d done to you moments ago. But instead of wiping the cream off his cheek with your hand, you move in closer, your face inches from his. Before he can react you press your lips to his cheek, giving him a kiss. You can tell he doesn’t expect it, because he jumps slightly at the contact, but he doesn’t pull away either.

You finally pull back from him, smiling coyly. “Oops. Might’ve missed a spot there.”

Choromatsu looks at you for a minute, clearly flustered by the unexpected kiss, his cheeks a bright shade of pink. You chuckle to yourself, thinking how adorable he looks this way.

Finally he pulls himself together again, though his cheeks are still flaming. “Did you, um...did you get it? The whipped cream, I mean?”

You giggle, glancing at the spot on his face again. “Nope, still there.” Your tone is just a little teasing.

“Well, maybe...maybe you should do it again...you know, just until it’s gone.” Choromatsu is still a blushing, stuttering mess, but there’s a sappy little smile tugging up the corner of his mouth that lets you know he liked the spontaneous smooch.

Of course, you are more than happy to oblige.