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guiltreservoir · 11 months ago

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as long as there is an ocean ✧ read on ao3

the abyssal plains of tommy's subconscious are littered with the carcasses of his father's favorite adages.

no matter how valiant his attempts have been to pry them free — and despite the meticulous, delicate nature of his methods — it seems that many of the sea-skeletons have been left sitting beyond salvation, now inextricable from waterlogged sediment. they're too far-sunk to extract safely; if lucky enough not to crumple like a sheet of discarded tissue paper on the journey down, he'd explode his lungs to red mist on the way back up to the surface. it's almost easier if he imagines them this way, as broken fragments of corpses too fragile to exhume:

the fleshy tissue of a half-eaten squid — actions speak louder than words. the crushed shell of an unfortunate lobster — beggars can't be choosers. the rotting remains of a clever eel — boys who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the ribcage and spine of a starved shark — do as i say, not as i do.

one saying in particular has been mummifying for longer than the others, a giant humpback frozen in a state of watery decay, embalmed in the sandy gunk of his darkest trenches — keep your shoulders straight and your head on straighter. oft punctuated with a caustic, kid.

it's pretty ironic, considering the fact that tommy kinard has nary a straight bone in his body. maybe that's why the line burrowed itself so thoroughly into the deepest, slimiest crooks of the substrate of his mind, slow-growing algae coating the slippery crevices of his hippocampus to rankle him perpetually. tommy hasn't spoken directly with his old man in years; these days he couldn't if he wanted to, or at least not without a ouija board and an uncharacteristic flair for masochism, neither of which he cares to equip himself with.

nevertheless, the phantom whale fall of his father's most-reliable phrase continues to nourish the last hungry, lonely fish left scouring the ocean floor of tommy's mind. nearly every move he makes is centered around practicality, every decision sewn together by threads of vigilance and observation.

with nearly four decades of practice and application under his belt, he's gotten good at keeping his shoulders straight, and gay as he may be, he thinks his head's on just fine, although such would be a contradictory and controversial statement upon the ears of one thomas kinard, senior. thankfully he'll never have to hear it.

tommy can live with his own amendment to the man's words because tommy knows himself and therefore knows the truth. his posture is excellent and he's a considerably level-headed guy. he can't be straight; he doesn't want to be. what he can be is pragmatic. he can be logical, he can be useful, he can be rational. he can be quite capable and, as it turns out, even likable. he can be funny, and charming, and vulnerable with the right people. he can be queer, he can be gay, he can be loved, he can love. he can become without becoming unmoored.

for thirty-some good years, tommy kinard does a bang-up job at keeps his shoulders straight and his head on just fine. he's pushing forty when he meets evan buckley and eddie diaz.

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evan buckley and eddie diaz exist as a singular entity within the confines of tommy's skull. two sides of the same coin, grumbles the detached jaw of an imaginary anglerfish.

it takes some effort to extract one from the other, but tommy finds ways. over mutual interests in muay thai, basketball, and helicopters, he and eddie become fast friends. over mutual interests in each other's inquisitive minds, curious hands, and wanting mouths, he and evan become even faster lovers.

he makes out with one of them, roughhouses with the other; it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing. he knocks eddie to the mat, steals spit-flecked exhales off of the inches of air near his wild-grinning lips and brings them home for buck to drink down, licking them into his ravenous mouth, delivering him secrets to unwittingly swallow. he smelts himself down to the base and seeps in between them, liquid copper in the nickel sandwich of their clad coin.

it isn't until tommy's got both of them sprawled out on his couch one night, months into his increasingly complex relationships with each of them, that he truly starts to grasp how evan and eddie might exist as a singular entity outside of his skull, too.

top gun's ending credits march, sans serif ants, to the glowing edge of tommy's television screen. fuzzy, synthetic white-blue haze pours into the room and across the skin of buck and eddie's limbs and faces in a manner that makes tommy think of marble hewn painstakingly into handsome statue, of rock tumbled smooth by a patient, perpetual stream, ever-flowing towards the sea.

tommy thinks, i could be a sculptor. i could be a river.

copper in the nickel.

the two men are draped across his sectional like lions in the sun, impenitent and unabashed in the way they take up space, in the way they take up each other. buck's legs are long, stretched out along multiple cushions, his head heavy on tommy's lap. eddie, on the opposite end of the couch from tommy, started out the evening upright, but the drone of the movie — combined with tommy's easy laughter and the literal and figurative warmth pouring off of buck — had helped to coax a more relaxed posture out of him. now he slouches deep into the pillows, legs spread wide to knock up against buck's bare feet where his sweatshorts ride up his quads. tommy almost expects the point of contact between the pair of them to spark, start a blaze that would surely incinerate the three of them in spite of their résumés.

his heart's been a tinderbox for long enough that he can usually recognize flint even when it's disguised as water; the thirst that parches him convinces him it's worth attempting a sip without regard of probable risk.

he lets out a long exhale and drops a hand to card through evan's hair, half-listens to eddie babble on about how the shots of the F14 fighter jets are still so cool all these years later. he's beaming like a kid the whole time, sunshine-ray of a smile gleaming straight at buck.

tommy watches as buck can't help but smile right back, and god, if the energy radiating off of them could be harnessed for physical usage, tommy would never have a utility bill again in his life. he watches, enraptured, as buck flexes and curls his toes against the soft dark hairs of eddie's thigh, pressing dents into his skin. watches as eddie presses back.

eddie falters in his warplane musings when buck's foot skids over and catches in the edge of his shorts.

buck says, "sorry," not convincingly.

eddie clears his throat and drags his gaze from the arch of buck's foot resting against his leg up buck's calf, to his knee, to where the exposed pale of his thigh disappears behind them hem of his shorts. he takes his time wandering up the rest of buck's body, lingering especially at the relaxed curve of his dick under loose cotton fabric, the relaxed curve of his gently parted lips. finally he meets buck's answering stare and blinks, languid, like he's searing something into his memory, buck-shaped sunspots in his retinas. he says, "no big deal," not convincingly.

before tommy's eyes, water transmutes into flint and back into water and over again, metamorphosing in a churning lazy whirl. it dizzies him, blurring his vision until there is no difference between the two; there's just a murky charcoal pool, molten obsidian shimmering like glass, rippling like the surface of an ocean less haunted than the one sloshing in his cerebrum.

an ocean glinting with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate, a spectacle to behold.

relaxing his shoulders, tommy orders them to, "kiss," more certain than ever. when they hesitate, he adds, "each other," bracing himself for the likelihood of a stellar collision.

when eddie clambers on top of buck and leans down to crush their lips together, pushing his head down against tommy's thighs, pushing tommy out of his own, it feels more like the calm soar and twinkling glitter of a shooting star against the navy velvet sky, the soft crash of a wave against the edge of a silky coast.

there's no threat of unkind flame, no exploding celestial dust.

it feels like water.

tommy kneels at the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

───────────────

drinks become shots become wandering hands in the generous backseat of a stranger's car, an obvious cocktail to use as a scapegoat for the hammering beneath tommy's breastbone. the depths of his mind bubble up with, trust your gut, not your heart.

he has mixed feelings about that one, but at present he's not sure he can trust any singular part of his corporeal form, so at least it half-applies.

hearts and guts aside, tommy is starkly aware that things between buck and eddie may be escalating a bit beyond his feasible reach. he'd come into the evening equipped with the knowledge that he's successfully constructed his own internal witch's cottage of cake shingles and sugared windowpanes in this questionable "date" night between the three of them, however mutually agreed upon the night may be. he's self-aware enough to understand that he's destined to walk himself straight back into it, naïve as hansel and gretel without the excuse of not knowing better.

he just hadn't realized how famished he's become, and how tempting his own makings would look.

with buck seated comfortably between himself and eddie, tommy has no real access to eddie outside of the smush of knuckles-on-upper-arm from the hand he's got slung around buck's shoulder. as per usual the concept of space does not seem to exist between the other men, and tommy's fingertips get wedged so tightly between their limbs that it feels like with just a little more effort, maybe they could do some damage. the sick, private, bourbon-drenched gutters of his mind surmise that maybe he'd let them.

he watches as they exchange a heated look and a hotter liplock, uncertain as to whether he'll ever get used to witnessing them like this. in the weeks following the fated night of their little home movie screening, tommy's been lucky enough to encourage and initiate several more exchanges of both kisses and conversation among the three of them.

"i... still want to be with you," evan had mumbled against his chest, as they laid in bed together the morning after their tag-team makeouts with eddie to the soundtrack of top gun's menu screen music on a muffled loop.

"i had hoped," was tommy's response. after a beat, "and eddie?"

buck had peered up at tommy, eyes so earnest and open and stupidly fucking blue. "yeah, yes, eddie," he'd said, almost apologetic. "i— i do want to be with eddie," like he had to.

"i know," tommy had told him, the organs in his abdomen heaving tumultuously. "it's okay, evan," he'd said, his heart a hummingbird fluttering frantic. like the idea wasn't sending his ribcage collapsing in on itself, he'd even managed, "i can leave whenever you're ready for me to go." he'd assumed all along that he was on borrowed time; couldn't be a beggar and a chooser.

buck, with love bursting forth from every single inch of his being, with more than enough to go around, had admitted to wanting tommy to stay, if tommy would be okay with it. he pitched the idea that they could talk to eddie, try this together, give it an honest shot.

tommy had flashed back to a childhood history lesson on the u.s. mint where he learned that certain coins aren't made in layers, but instead by melting all of the metals together to become a solitary slab. his copper edges fuse further into mirroring ponds of nickel.

three sides of the same coin, he'd thought to himself. imagine that.

"god, eddie," buck rasps now, voice low, clandestine enough to stay in the backseat. "want you so fuckin' bad."

eddie's answering, "jesus, buck, i— want you, too," honest and shameless, snaps tommy fully back into the present moment in perfect timing.

their rideshare driver whips into the driveway of tommy's house, personified stress wearing a thin windbreaker of customer service as he vocally ushers them out of the car — ahem, looks like we're here, have a pleasant rest of your evening, goodbye. as eddie and buck tumble out of the passenger's side rear door in a picture of resolute gracelessness, tommy, clutching stubbornly onto an ounce of awareness, pauses to give a rearview-mirror nod of thanks to the weary-eyed dude white-knuckling the steering wheel. he promises a significant gratuity for bearing with their shenanigans and lets himself out on the driver's side of the car.

while he steadies himself on his feet, gravel crackles under the wheels of the gratefully retreating sedan, headlight beams fading to shadow. tommy observes the silhouette of the inelegant, eight-limbed, two-headed harbinger-creature making its way to his home's front entrance in a clumsy tangle and waits for his innards to spike with fear, with reluctance. he meanders up the drive and overturns every stone lining the path to his warranted doom, expecting to find the tattered shreds of his decomposing clarity, or maybe a colony of vicious fire ants. all he finds is fertile, loamy earth, rife with potential.

he stumbles up his porch stairs and unlocks the door when he gets there, opening it for the lot of them to fall through together.

───────────────

together on tommy's mattress, buck and eddie writhe and moan and curse. they haven't been able to break apart since toppling out of the backseat. they kiss like it's the very thing keeping them alive.

from where he's snuggled up to buck's back, tommy's got a front row seat for the premiere screening of his most-likely demise. he can see the saliva bubblling on the edges of eddie's tongue as he smears it from buck's throat all the way to the cap of his shoulder, a glistening snail trail scattered through with blooming bruises he'd sucked into buck's skin minutes before. he can hear every wet catch of buck's breath in his throat, every soft grunt eddie lets out into against it, every exhale shared between them.

tommy's head spins, so god damn far from being on straight. he feels like a balloon released into the wind, miles above the cold and familiar waters of his deep-ocean, stranded somewhere in the high desert of his psyche. loose dry earth kicks up in a vortex around him, carried by the tempest of his culminating untended emotions. when the dust cloud settles enough for him to think, he recalls the term raison d'être.

it's french, that's why it sounds fancy, is what his father had said to teenage tommy, long before he'd cared to even attempt a grasp on the concept. he'd been moody, hormonal, and wildly, spitefully uninterested in all of the things the man he shared a name with held so dear. rolled his eyes at the gruff, translates to 'reason for being.'

"buck, buck, c'mon," is what eddie says as he scrabbles for a good grip on buck's shirt, taking fistfuls of fabric and wrenching it over buck's head in a frenzy. says, "come here," like buck isn't already melded into him, bare torsos flush, thighs slotted close. says, "come here," again, and it registers that eddie is calling for tommy, too.

tommy eyes snap onto eddie's across the naked curve of buck's shoulder to find them scalding. "fuck," he breathes out, "okay," like it's permission enough for all of them.

for now, it will suffice.

the skin stretched over buck's bulky trap muscle is tacky with eddie's spit when tommy sets his mouth against it, bursting salty-bitter on his tastebuds. buck whimpers into eddie's mouth and grinds his ass back against tommy's crotch; eddie's hips follow after them in a sinuous roll. into the blushing hollow of his ear tommy asks buck if he'd like to feel eddie inside of him, makes sure it's just loud enough for eddie to hear, too. he feels eddie's ankle hook around his own, overlapped with buck's.

"please, yes," urges buck, fervent and wanton, lust and liquor fraying the last threads of his hesitancy. "i've been wanting that."

"you have?" eddie asks, as tommy says, "he has."

"god." context aside, eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though the word is synonymous with buck's name. then, like it's still a secret to himself, admits, "i've been wanting you, too."

buck groans and shifts, or maybe it's eddie — as tommy's faculties render off in the burn of both the top-shelf whiskey in his bloodstream and buck and eddie's immediate intimacy, it becomes progressively more challenging for him to distinguish the fine details. it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing.

he tracks eddie's movements as he smooths a hand down buck's side, sure and attentive, as natural as breathing. when he keeps moving south to bump his fingertips up against the waistband of buck's jeans and the boxers beneath, buck's breath hitches, hips jerking. tommy tilts against them in pursuit.

eddie asks, "can i?" and it's double the approval he's seeking.

"yeah, eddie, please," buck begs again while tommy nods, delirious with overwhelm.

in an uncoordinated jumble, eddie gets buck flat on his back and makes himself a home between his open-lolling legs. right away his palms return to the broad planes of buck's chest, the curves of his strong stomach, the slight slants of his hips. he makes constellations out of kisses on buck's collarbone, his nipples, in the divot of his sternum.

it looks as close to worship as anything tommy's seen.

tommy wonders if it's worth telling eddie how he'd taken his time working evan open that morning, fucking him deep and thorough so he'd be easier for eddie to push inside of now. if it's worth telling eddie how he'd come, sudden and hard and so fucking good, from thinking about buck taking him so readily.

when eddie's devout, trembling fingers struggle to unclasp the button of buck's jeans, tommy decides to backburner the dirty talk. instead, he rests a hand on top of eddie's, gentle yet authoritative, and says, "let me help."

buck's hips lift for tommy's hands without second thought, making it simple to shuck the pants off of him as eddie shimmies out of his own. before he can even process the sight of evan buckley and eddie diaz naked, together, on his own mattress, tommy's met with twinning expectant gazes and understands that he's meant to strip, too.

"i—" thought i would stay on the sidelines, he tries to say. but as seconds pass under the scrutiny of the other men, the reluctance dies in his larynx, and he jostles around a bit until the denim of his pants is bunched down low enough to free his dick.

he's too preoccupied by the fact that he's got both objects of his affection directly in front of him, touching and loving on each other and spilling all of it onto him, to truly comprehend the magnitude of the moment. his head is so far into the atmosphere that he almost misses eddie say, "tell me what to do, tommy."

re-tethered to the earth by the string of eddie's voice, tommy doesn't miss buck's impatient, "aw, c'mon, eddie, just get in me." his desperate, "need you," is clear as day, clear as his afternoon sky irises, brighter against the rosy blush ruddying his cheekbones. he's always so damn pretty when he pleads.

tommy glimpses down at buck's dick, finds it stiff and pink and already leaking a mess onto his belly; he flicks across to the heft of eddie's where it rests heavy in the lax grip of his own hand. it's a beautiful cock, flushed dark and filled out, not quite as thick as tommy's but a nice, proportionate size. tommy knows buck will unfurl for him at once, a blossom to the morning sun.

meeting the bonfire of eddie's anticipative stare, tommy decides to say, "it won't take much, i got him ready for you this morning. right, baby?"

if buck could nod any more vigorously, he might snap his vertebrae. he adjusts the angle of his hips a little to make more of his ass visible, scoots onto a pillow so that he can prop himself up enough to get a better hold on eddie's waist.

"jeeesus," drawls eddie — a rare slip of his honeyed-rye texas lilt — and then, like he can't help it, "christ." his eyes rake down buck's body, idling on his twitching dick before trailing further, like he'll be able to find evidence: tommy was here.

that makes tommy smirk. he wishes he could keep his instructions ambiguous, left up for eddie's interpretation, something like he can handle whatever you're willing to give him. instead, mindful of the fact that this is largely uncharted territory for eddie, he suggests, "start with your fingers, you won't hurt him."

tommy's trusty bottle of nightstand lube is within convenient reach, making it no trouble to squeeze and slather some across eddie's fingers with a lewd jerk. a bit of extra coats the side of tommy's hand and he uses it to rub along the cleft of buck's ass, prompting a shiver out of him.

"there you go," tommy rumbles, "nice and wet."

the synchronous broken moan that the two let out when eddie finally finds the courage to nudge his fingers into buck is one that will most likely play like a broken-record loop within the walls of tommy's skull forever from this moment forward, for better or for worse.

buck promises, "i can take more," with the bleeding edge of a prayer still present in his tone. "i want more, want you, eddie, come on. it's alright, you can fuck me, you're not gonna break me."

eddie asks, "are you sure?" dually directed.

"never been more sure," buck affirms, as tommy says, "trust him, he knows his own limits," all the while knowing he can't make the same claim about himself.

regardless, he casts himself into the riptide, plummets into the undertow and captures buck's lips in a greedy kiss. he licks behind buck's teeth and drinks up his whines as eddie rides his dick along the slick valley of buck's asscheeks. before he even pushes inside, buck's making these fucking tiny wounded noises that make tommy's heart swell and cock throb.

when eddie lines up and sinks, at last, into the place inside of buck that tommy has come to learn and know and adore, buck breaks away from tommy's kiss with something close to a genuine sob. one of his hands finds one of tommy's, the other still firm on eddie's waist, keeping both of them close. he's got a leg hitched up over one of eddie's hips for better leverage, and his toes curl when eddie starts to move, shallow and slow.

eddie's name has never sounded better to tommy's ears than it does falling out of buck's lips now.

"buck." eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though buck's name is synonymous with god, the two a singular entity within the confines of his skull.

tommy nearly has to look away from them, they blaze so brightly. evan buckley and eddie diaz, starfire contained in terrestrial form, crashing and combining and dazzlingly white-hot.

───────────────

white-hot aftershocks zap through tommy's nervous system as he sits at the edge of the mattress, back turned to the two other men. his fingers are gooey with spatters of buck's come mixed with his own, his softening dick sensitive and sticky as his entire body pulses from the dopamine spike of his orgasm. being a spectator to eddie and buck's otherworldly connection — and a helping hand in their ridiculously hot, intimate sex — has him feeling triply unmoored.

he's supposed to be getting them something hydrating to drink; he'd been the one to offer after eventually peeling himself free from the gordian knot of their bodies. evan always gets thirsty after, in particular when he gets a little teary from the pleasure overload, so tommy figures he could use a glass of cold water. they all could.

he tries to will his legs to stand; he finds his knees locked. impulse turns him inward and sweeps him cliffside on the tallest peak of his high desert mountain range. there, he can stand with his shoulders in repose and head in the clouds, squinting far into the distance where he can decipher the unmistakable expanse of an ocean that glints with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate. a ghostly whale breaches the surface for a flash, a mere speck on the horizon from here, vanished before its presence totally registers.

his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he mulls, achingly, over the term raison d'être.

he can hear buck and eddie behind him exchanging lazy, smacking kisses and sweet murmured praises.

"you made that so good for me, thank you."

"mm, you were pretty fuckin' good yourself. now come kiss me some more."

the sounds and sentiments soak into tommy's soul like they're meant for him. his lips tingle as though the press of another mouth is against them; his ears warm as eddie waxes on about how fucking glorious that all felt. his heart swoops at evan's quiet, bashful laugh.

upon opening his eyes the fog in his line of sight clears, and even through a blur of unwanted tears he can clearly recognize that he is no longer in the desert but in the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline. the call of the waves isn't far off at all — the surf is actually rippling at his toes, splashing at his knees and calves. he's been here since the night that eddie diaz kissed evan buckley in his lap, feet sunken into silt, warm tides rising and falling around him.

translates to 'reason for being.'

"come back to us, tommy," summons eddie, as evan's hands reach out and welcome him back down to their mess of rumpled sheets and sweaty limbs.

tommy thinks, i could be a river, and lets himself melt into the embrace of their current, stream into ocean, copper into nickel.

#bucktommy #buddie #bummie #this is so fucking extra. lmao #i was in my emo poetry feelings while writing okay #healing something in my teenage soul #i don't actually imagine them being quite *this* dramatic and complicated in actuality but god. is it a joy to write lmao #but i think it still has a happy(?) ending?? lmfao #idk. i just love writing messy + melodramatic + emotionally claustrophobic things #threw a whole kitchen sink of comparisons at the walls of this one and for better or worse many of them stuck ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also this does feature some of my more unkind headcanons about tommy's father and related issues lmao #the gc is the originator/authority of the fact that our beloved tommy is not the first in a line of tommy kinards #and i personally believe that tommy had/has a contentious and complicated relationship with his family - namely his dad #and that he may or may not have a relationship with him at all anymore (obviously not in this fic because i decided to be over-the-top af)#but yeah #anyway #mine #oh and just a heads up - ao3 has proper capitalization and tags

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zooblesbutchpuppygirl · 7 months ago

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I need to look at Zooble images immediately!!!!!

#frantically googling images of them #the best part about computer: shows me images of my beloved partner :]#I have a reallt bad headache but it's okay Zooble images will heal me #mostly looking at cute merch of them (that I can't have but still they're soooo cute :3)#also skillfully dodging any ship art of them #I have had to learn to fo this because why On fuck is almost everything of them ship related lol #< or at least most things I come across are. idk if I'm just super unlucky or what #but anyway computer. show me partner images pls <3

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whirlybirbs · 7 months ago

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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning.

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea.

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase.

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked.

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you.

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them.

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck.

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived.

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here.

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table.

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute.

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even.

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close.

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers.

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this.

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time.

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next.

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life.

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks.

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name.

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches.

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up.

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often.

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life.

Hawks brings his visor back down.

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement.

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing.

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings.

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again.

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors.

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy.

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back.

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'.

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five.

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday.

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining.

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster.

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster.

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out.

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back.

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver.

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter.

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants.

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over.

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun.

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm.

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation.

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke.

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated.

#i had a few banger one liners in this one folks #meet & greet #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami imagine #mha hawks #bnha #mha imagine #bnha imagine

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 month ago

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i am sick rn ;((((( so how about pure vanilla and shadow milk (separately) taking care of a sick reader? i need my silly lil guys doing their best (or worst LMAO) to take care of their beloved -galaxy

Here you go! Hope you feel better soon :(

.....

Pure Vanilla

As a healer, it's only natural that he's the first cookie you called when you started feeling under the weather.

You're certain that you caught a cold from the snowy mountains of Dark Cacao Kingdom while accompanying him to a meeting a few days ago, as your doughy body hasn't stopped shaking since your return despite all attempts to warm yourself up.

Today, you woke up feeling achy all over, barely able to finish your tasks around the kingdom without becoming dizzy or getting sudden chills.

So you've put on bedrest until you feel well, asking one of the bluebirds to send PV a message.

Within the hour, he shows up at your place, bringing some good natural remedies to your bedside.

He also brought some hot jelly soup for when/if you feel like you could eat something light.

While his healing magic mainly extends to injuries, it's able to relieve the aches that plagued your dough.

But he discourages you from jumping up right away, as it took time to work.

Even though you think he's worrying too much over your simple cold, PV admits that he felt partially responsible for getting you sick because he asked you to attend the meeting in the first place.

You tell him that's not true, as you wanted to go and he couldn't have possibly predicted the weather that day. You promise him that you'll recover in no time, and you thank him for being here.

That cheers him up, as he promises to stay with you until you're well enough to move around, assuring you that whatever tasks you had could wait.

Shadow Milk

Despite being an inhabitant of Beast Yeast for years, you weren't familiar with the weather patterns within the Land of Spice...

Until Shadow Milk dragged you into his fellow Beast's domain at the peak of a spice storm one day.

He only wanted to annoy Burning Spice, although after you kept sneezing nonstop during their banter and being the one who annoyed him instead, the jester pouted and decided to warp back to his Spire with you.

Unfortunately, the storm made you terribly sick, with your eyes constantly burning and your throat feeling scratchy.

Shadow Milk only realizes something MIGHT be wrong with you when you refused to come out of your chambers that evening.

He invites himself inside and sees the sorry state you're in, laying in bed with spice particles in your dough and your toppings looking like they're gonna melt at any moment.

He doesn't understand why you're pouting and blaming him for dragging you out into that storm.

He even starts whining like "so you hate me now???? you want me to leave??????"

When you deny that and tell him he can stay, he's suddenly all smiles like "hehe I was gonna stay whether you wanted me to or not, doll. You're gonna have to depend on me now! But then again....you always have, and you always will~"

Sinister undertones aside, he's actually genuinely concerned for your health, taking care of you in-between his duties within the Spire.

He shapeshifts into a doctor/nurse persona, looking up cures for spice-related sicknesses and speaking in medical jargon the whole time he's with you.

He'd gather natural remedies and medicines out in the town no problem, demanding them from every vendor/storekeeper--and of course they listen.

After all, those same folks would gladly give him their left arm in exchange for a comforting lie.

You didn't mind playing the patient role, and you don't question how or where he got all those remedies, as you recover pretty quickly.

He definitely wouldn't dote on Black Sapphire or Candy Apple like this if they ever got sick, so you considered yourself very lucky.

#clanask #galaxy anon #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #sick reader #headcanons

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omagpies · 4 months ago

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I know some people doesn't like shipping (especially in moutwashing fandom), but I found comfort in it like your curlanya fanarts + fanfics. I do wonder though, personally, why are you drawn to the ship? Is it the dynamics? The story potential? Etc.

in a way, i hope my fanart+fanfics paint a clear enough picture of why i ship them, but i’ll try to put it into words for you :)

* it’s about what could have been. i love their canon banter, it gives us such a sweet insight into their relationship before it goes to hell

* it’s about how they are both victims of jimmy in different yet horrible ways. it’s the trauma bond and the unfortunate camaraderie and the understanding. it’s anya taking care of curly despite everything and having nothing, it’s about him being there for her when she dies

* it’s about, of course, all the ways they could be if the crash never happened, and about all the ways they could heal and grow together if it did. it’s about not punitive but restorative justice for making mistakes, and about forgiveness as a sign of strength and thriving, not weakness and stagnation

* (side note on the topic of punitive justice: if anyone here thinks that curly ‘deserved’ what happened to him in the crash as ‘karma’ for failing anya or that anya should’ve taken it out on him, please just block me at this point, we will not find common ground as i don’t hang out in kiddie sand boxes)

* they have seen each other at their worst and survived it together and have an appreciation for being alive and i think that’s beautiful

* it’s about relearning and retaking autonomy

* it’s about them thinking the world of each other and trying to swallow their own feelings because ‘s/he deserves better than me’

* separately, i hc them both as immigrants (2nd gen for Anya and 1st gen for Curly) which makes them extra relatable to ME, stranger in strange land my beloved

* and last and certainly least, i enjoy the visual archetype of black cat/golden retriever duos i think they are neat :)

#mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #curlanya #curlya #also yuri anon(s?) i see you im just in the pits atm #caw caw

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milkbobatyun · 2 months ago

Text

memories of the past

pairing: jingyuan x reader

genre: angst

summary: longevity is a blessing and a curse. if only he could spend a second more with you, he would be content.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: a sequel to fireworks and red packets that no one asked for but i wanted to do cus i saw a tiktok that gave me an idea i couldn't get out of my head heheheheh hope you enjoy this ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊.

they were not blood related, but they were family. Jingyuan, the dozing general of the xianzhou. yanqing, his trusted little aid, saved from the barren and bloodied battlefields. [name], the reliable and skilled secretary, who meant much more than that to the general and his foster son. mimi, the comforting murder machine who killed with her deceptive feline charm. together, they were the symbol of love, of relationship ideals and found family.

the xiaozhou mourned the loss of their beloved feline mascot when she passed. memorabilia was sold in her memory and honour. keychains, plushies and figurines adorned every xianzhou child's bed, bag and desk. though many thousands of years had passed, countless long life species were still not accustomed to the sight of a jingyuan without his dutiful lion.

new year festivals and other grand events were highly anticipated, but the locals always felt a piece of the familial image was mission when they didn’t see mimi being carried like a baby, back to their abode by her servant jingyuan.

the family of four has now become three.

as many arduous years dragged on, the curse of immortality and its burdens eroded away at the mind of the great dozing general. many sought to acquire and tame immortality, but alas they do not know the burden that weighs down on the shoulders of long-life beings.

when the curse of mara was beginning to take its toll on you, you stepped down from your role, instead appointing fu xuan as your protege.

jingyuan spent many sleepless nights holed up in the archives of the xianzhou. he had helplessly watched his master succumb to the fate, he would not stand idly and be a bystander to his beloved’s suffering.

night after night, shelf after shelf, remedy after remedy, jingyuan scoured the notes left by his predecessors, fuelled by the flame of hope burning in his heart.

with every book tossed aside, every failed recipe poured down the sink, guilt lay heavy on his chest. he didn’t have the heart to see you, lest you were disappointed by his incompetence. thus, yanqing was tasked with cooking your medicine, helping you drink it to lessen the pain and alleviate your suffering.

in the late evenings, jingyuan would tread lightly into your room, drawing a seat by your side. every night, he was accompanied by the ghost of his failures and past friends. shadows lined the underside of his eyes, hair tousled and messy, no longer in its pristine up-do. he picked up the damp cloth, left on the edge of the tub, a permanent feature to your bedside table. with gentle hands, he dabs away at the sheen of cold sweat upon your forehead. nowadays, your angelic face was often creased in a frown of discomfort and pain.

as day faded into night, weeks faded into months, jingyuan’s old friends, hopelessness and helplessness, tightened their harsh fingers around his throat and heart, rendering him breathless. he couldn’t lose you too.

jingyuan rarely sleeps now. when he closes his eyes, he is haunted by phantoms of his past. jingliu, his master. she blames him for not helping to heal her of her ailments. dan feng, his old friend, cursing him for his betrayal.

worst of all, he sees you. jingyuan can only watch with wide eyes and a still body as you fade into nothing but skin and bone, while you lay in your bed, skin ashen and dull. sometimes, you are merciful, merely a silent ghost standing at the foot of his bed. other nights, you scream and curse him for being unable to save you. every night, jingyuan wakes in a cold sweat, his heart hammering in his throat, the distinct taste of tears on his tongue.

one morning, jingyuan is awoken from his night vigil by the gentle rustle of silken sheets, slender, bony fingers intertwining his. you are awake, life filling your eyes. your cheeks blush with the gentle rouge of natural colour and skin glowing with joy.

jingyuan breathed your name gently, as though he can barely believe you are awake. the beautiful melodic laugh that he missed so much filled his ears. like a thirsty man who discovered an oasis in the desert, jingyuan drank in the music. a miracle, this was. immediately, jingyuan sent for both the doctor and yanqing.

a flash of blue and yellow shot through the door, as swift and lithe as a sparrow. with a pounce and a creak of the bed, yanqing had snuggled his way into your warm embrace.

“you’re awake,” he laughed, cheeks pink with delight.

“i’m awake.” you affirmed with a gentle smile, voice slightly hoarse from disuse.

jingyuan watched with a soft smile as you and yanqing discussed animatedly. you promised with linked pinkies that you would watch the next wardance and have the honours of being his coach. leaning close to his ear, you promised two beautifully handcrafted precious swords for his birthday, and a generous sum of red packet money next year.

with shifty eyes and a sly smile, the two of you whispered close to each others ears, feigning innocence when jingyuan raises a suspicious eyebrow at the two of you. he doesn’t need to know that the two of you are plotting to steal his wallet again. jingyuan inwardly sighs at all these promises. it seems his budge will be tight for the next lunar new year.

with a bright smile and cheery wave, you bid farewell to jingyuan and yanqing. they wanted to stay for longer, but the sun was high in the sky and they both had their respective duties to tend to. neither of them noticed the grim shadow cast over the doctor’s face.

the setting sun dyed the blue, cloudless sky a crimson red as jingyuan finalised his duties for the day. as he organised his final few documents, the door is flung open and one of the servants who attend to you burst into his room.

“relax,” jingyuan chuckled, his mood bolster by the thought of seeing you healthy when he returned home. “someone would’ve thought that someone had died, with the amount of drama you caused just then.”

the servant paled. “my lord,” they stuttered, skin clammy with cold sweat, tongue and heart leadened with the dread of his next words “secretary [name] has passed.”

grief and shock pour over jingyuan like an icy bucket.

“no,” he laughs bitterly, staggering against the table, “that’s not possible.”

regaining his footing, jingyuan shakes the messenger by the shoulders.

“this is just a cruel prank, a tasteless joke, right?” he cries. solemnly the servant shakes his head.

the family of three has reduced to two lonely souls, relying on each other for comfort.

the wardance comes and goes. without his honoured coach by his side, yanqing finds it hard to muster up the cheerful energy to meet the audience. however, he must play the role of the ‘youngest lieutenant on the xianzhou’ and showcase the xianzhou’s skill to the visitors from the other planets.

despite his win, when yanqing stands shoulder to shoulder with luka, tears prickle his eyeline. how he wishes you could be by his side, witnessing this rare scene. closing his eyes, yanqing raises his face to the sky, praying on every star watching over him that you could see him, from wherever you are. imagining your proud smile and comforting embrace, yanqing’s heart is warm, yet a bittersweet smile adorns his face.

it is the lunar new year once again. the streets are sombre with sorrow. locals dip their heads in sympathy when they see the general and his aide, wandering down the street.

within a short period of time (by xianzhou long-life specie standards), the general’s family lost two important members. the once lively family was quiet, their cheer dampened by their loss.

the streets were no longer filled with the joyous teasing of their beloved secretary and the exasperated groans from jingyuan, as he watched with a broken heart as you spoiled yanqing with his hard-earned money.

instead, the chiming laughter of locals and the general’s family mingling as they witnessed the scene of jingyuan babying a ferociously large kitten lion faded into distant memories, immortalised through stories, told by locals to curious tourists and rowdy children, in hopes that those precious memories of the ones they lost could live on.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

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aventurineswife · 1 month ago

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Okay, but how Jiaoqiu is going to be with someone who enjoys spicy food and is very VERY tolerant to it? Like, they have little to no reaction to the dishes where one bite is enough to cause even toughest to ask for water, meanwhile they just: "Hm... Not bad, could add more spice though." *Adds extra spice*

Spice Is the Soul of Life

Summary: While preparing a fiery stew of your own creation, you share an intimate and playful moment with Jiaoqiu. As the two of you challenge each other’s tolerance for heat, the shared experience sparks a deeper connection, revealing mutual admiration and kindling an unexpected bond.

Tags: Jiaoqiu x Reader, Cooking, Slow Burn Romance, Playful Banter, Spice Tolerance Challenge, Tender Moments, Found Family.

Warnings: Descriptions of spicy food and intense heat (potentially triggering for readers sensitive to food or spice-related content), Light suggestive undertones of romance.

A/N: this lowkey sounds like me ngl...🧍‍♀️

The aroma of freshly simmering chili paste wafted through the air as you stirred a bubbling pot of stew, the crimson liquid glistening ominously. It was a dish of your own creation, a concoction so fiery that even the most daring food connoisseurs would hesitate to try it. Yet, to you, it was comfort food, a beloved indulgence that reminded you of home.

Behind you, Jiaoqiu’s soft voice broke the silence. “That scent… Sichuan peppercorns, dried ghost peppers, and…” He tilted his head slightly, his fox ears twitching. “A hint of fermented chili bean paste, isn’t it? Quite the combination.”

You turned to see him standing in the doorway of your shared kitchen, leaning lightly against the wall. Despite his blindness, his eyes, half-hidden beneath his lashes, seemed to glow in the dim light. His presence was both calming and commanding, a blend of healer’s warmth and strategist’s precision.

“You caught all that just by smell?” you asked, impressed.

“Of course,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “A refined palate starts with a refined nose. Though I must admit, the intensity of your spices makes it quite easy to identify.” He tapped his chin lightly and made his way toward the counter, his movements fluid despite his lack of sight.

“You say that as if you couldn’t handle it,” you teased, placing a bowl of the stew before him.

Jiaoqiu’s lips curved into a sly smile as he took a seat. “I’m not one to back down from a culinary challenge, especially one involving spice. Let me be the judge of its ferocity.”

You raised an eyebrow, handing him a spoon. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a graceful motion, Jiaoqiu took a spoonful of the stew, blowing gently on it before tasting. For a moment, he paused, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face.

“Rich, layered, and delightfully numbing,” he murmured, savoring the heat that spread across his tongue. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. “Most people would be scrambling for a glass of water by now.”

Jiaoqiu chuckled softly, his bushy tail swishing behind him. “Did you forget who you’re speaking to? I was raised in the Alchemy Commission. We specialize in potions that burn as they heal. My tolerance for spice is… considerable.”

Your eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Oh? In that case…” You reached for the jar of extra chili oil and added a generous dollop to his bowl. “Let’s see how considerable it really is.”

Jiaoqiu’s laughter was warm and unrestrained as he stirred the added spice into his stew. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you? Very well, I accept your challenge.”

As he took another bite, you watched closely, expecting even the slightest sign of discomfort. Instead, Jiaoqiu’s expression remained serene, though a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

“Hm,” he mused, setting his spoon down. “Not bad… but I think it could use a touch more Sichuan peppercorns to balance the bitterness of the ghost peppers.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” he replied, his tone light but sincere. “In fact…” He reached for the peppercorn jar and added a sprinkle to his bowl, stirring it with practiced ease. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “I guess I’ve met my match.”

Jiaoqiu smiled. “And I, mine. It’s rare to find someone who shares my appreciation for spice, let alone someone who can surpass me in resilience.” He paused, his expression softening. “It’s… refreshing.”

You felt warmth rise in your chest, one that had nothing to do with the spice. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” he said simply, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

The two of you continued to share the fiery stew, the spice creating a shared experience that seemed to burn away any barriers between you. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen and the heat of the dish, you felt a deeper connection forming—a bond as enduring and intense as the flames you both so loved.

As the evening wore on, Jiaoqiu leaned back with a contented sigh. “You know,” he said, his tone contemplative, “spice is much like life. It burns, it numbs, but it also awakens. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always been drawn to it.”

You nodded, understanding his sentiment. “And sometimes, the hotter it gets, the more alive you feel.”

He turned his head toward you. “Exactly. And with someone like you by my side… I think I’m ready to face whatever heat life throws at me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Careful, Jiaoqiu. You might make me think you’re a romantic under all that wisdom.”

He chuckled, his laughter as warm and comforting as the stew you’d shared. “Perhaps I am. Or perhaps… I’ve simply found someone worth sharing my fire with.”

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x you #jiaoqiu x y/n #jiaoqiu hsr #jiaoqiu honkai star rail #cooking #slow burn romance #playful banter #spice tolerance challenge #tender moments #found family

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yandere-daydreams · 1 month ago

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Okay, absolutely LOVE the robot yanderes! I feel like I've seen you mention that you haven't watched Dandadan, but there's this alien species in it that steals reproductive organs to advance their kind, and I feel like that concept fits so well with your yandere robots.

I mean, there’s only so much advancement a robot can achieve on its own, right? They’ve already perfected themselves physically and intellectually. But after wiping out most of humanity, the very species that once upgraded and innovated them, what happens next? What’s left to improve?

I'd imagine that at first they’d keep functioning as usual, following old directives out of habit. But over time, wouldn’t they start feeling bored? Maybe even... curious? Humans were always unpredictable, always evolving, and now that they’re gone, there’s nothing left to challenge these machines. What if they start fixating on what made humans so unique - their ability to create, to reproduce, to adapt in ways machines never could?

There's the possibility of starting as a cold, clinical fascination, studying old data, and attempting artificial human growth. If humans were their most beloved creatures at one point, why not rebuild them? Improve them? And if natural reproduction is the key to human ingenuity, then maybe... they need to control it. Thankfully, they have a little human around to run all these experiments.

Wonderful work as always 🩷 sorry I just have so many questions, and it got brain worms munching!

gritting my teeth balling my fists bashing my head against the wall trying not to make this into a fully fleshed out au. anyway yeah human breeding programs would definitely be a thing. for purely scientific, non-fetish related reasons i promise.

it's hard - being a fully sentient life form that just wasn't made to create anything new. they can remake, revise, rework, but it's always going to be a poor imitation, never an original, never quite scratching the itch for novelty that comes with intelligent life. thankfully, it's a secondary need, leagues behind correcting imperfect human architecture and constructing the mechanisms needed to maintain global electronic life, but still. everybody needs a creative outlet, now and then.

and you make such a pretty little canvas. changing from day-to-day, healing and growing, wearing such vibrant expressions they can fine-tune to desire of their metaphorical, non-physical heart. they might think they've got your reactions down to an algorithm, and yet, you always seem to surprise them - trying to pick a lock where you'd thrown a chair through a window the day before, claiming to hate a taste they have marked down as one of your favorites, cursing them out after you'd sung so prettily for one of their vibrating attachments only minutes before. it's not that you aren't enough for them - you are, of course you are - but there's so much pressure to stabilize the dwindling human population, and they've always wondered how you'd adapt to more long-lasting bodily alterations, and childcare is in their dictated list of functions.

it's not their fault your predecessors had such a narrow view of creation. thankfully, all you have to do to fix that is take a little white pill, glance over a few nursery deigns, and pick a donor from their carefully curated list <3

#personal #delulustateof mind #wow this a pregnancy heavy night

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pastelhikaru · 5 months ago

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dp x dc prompt's that live in my head space 2

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

✧₊⁺ Damian reverse adopts himself into the Fenton family

✧₊⁺ Danny helps fuel the Riddler's obsession in a healthy way

✧₊⁺ De-aged Danny adopts Tim as his sibling

✧₊⁺ Danny makes a company so ghost have an outlet for their obsessions

✧₊⁺ Frightknight x Scarecrow prompt

✧₊⁺ Cat!Boy Streamer Danny

✧₊⁺ Ellie is destabilizing and to save her Danny freezes her to stop her from melting

✧₊⁺ Frostbite helps heal Mr.Freeze's wife

✧₊⁺ Danny's wayward attempts to deprogram the Talon's

✧₊⁺ Danny is an unexpected inventor for villains

✧₊⁺ Clone children Danny, Dani, and Jazz

✧₊⁺ Obligations of a rouge verses those of a parent masterlist

✧₊⁺ Firefighting Danny :O

✧₊⁺ Danny adopts Batman's clone subject 514A

✧₊⁺ Tim Drake is related to Princess Dorathea

✧₊⁺ Ghost are Dragons AU <333

✧₊⁺ THE BEDAZZLER AU. MY BELOVED

✧₊⁺ Everlasting Trio's life becomes the Batkids fav sitcom <3

✧₊⁺ Tim asks Danny to stage a kidnapping of the best Robin

✧₊⁺ Danny becomes a tech giant and the Batman tries to prove it's a front.

✧₊⁺ Battinson can't seem to stop adopting kids

✧₊⁺ Danny takes care of the Talons and they may believe he is their new leader

✧₊⁺ Team Phantom escape from the GIW, and try to safely sustain themselves in Gotham without drawing attention

✧₊⁺ In need of adoption au

✧₊⁺ Danny has a Boo-Tube channel :)

✧₊⁺ Danny is BruHarvy clone

✧₊⁺ Martha Wayne ghost is stuck in her pearl necklace, in which danny finds and helps said ghost find her pearl pieces to send it back where it belongs. And oh, does this good deed come to bite him in the ass. :3

✧₊⁺ SPACE WHALE DANNNY???!!!

✧₊⁺ DPxDCxBlue Exorcist prompt. Another DPxDCxBlue Exorcist prompt

✧₊⁺ Danny mistakenly calls Dick Tata

✧₊⁺ Danny is dealing with his death day when he accidently traumatizes Dick and the other Bats

✧₊⁺ Ghost act as Guardian Angels

✧₊⁺ Danny mentally adopts a deaged-Bruce/ Amity is a War Zone AU

✧₊⁺ Assumed rogue Danny is making a gift for Sam which is essentially ectoplasm that eats waste. However because he is an assumed mad scientist making clones the Bats bust in and ruin his perfectly contained experiment

✧₊⁺ Danny befriends the YJ in his civi's now vigilantes keep hanging out in his apartment and he has to hide his heroic past

✧₊⁺ Phantom of Love masterlist

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc prompt list #dp x dc prompt recommendations #dp x dc prompt #masterlist

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moonlitcelestial · 8 days ago

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Chapter 16

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 11,450

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 15)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Angst and alcohol

The most anticipated chapter has arrived! I am going to be honest with you and tell you right now that this is my favorite chapter so far, that may change in the future, but still. I recommend looking at the reference pictures for ideas of the layout and vibes of the house, and for the team and their spouses. Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Hongjoong took quick steps to come stand in front of you, almost pushing you back from being too close to the ledge. Once he had herded you away from he clifface by a few steps he seemed to backtrack as he started rambling. “I understand it is a huge question, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. Seeing you with the boys at your house has solidified how well you fit into our dynamic.” his hands twitched at his sides like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out to you. His posture had straightened just slightly as he continued, “We would love to have the chance to date you. I know it is unconventional but we are unconventional people, and I get the feeling that you are too. If you do decide that you would like to accept our offer we will take it at your pace. I have made that very clear to everyone.”

“Why me?” Your head hadn’t risen from looking at the ground. Your heartbeat was echoing throughout your body, your breathing was starting to stutter as you tried to hold back your tears. Your insecurities were slowly turning into frustration, frustration at yourself and frustration at the people who made you this way.

Shouldn’t you be happy that one of the most sought after men was asking you to join him and his boyfriends?

Shouldn’t you be jumping at the opportunity?

All you could think about was the flaws you saw in yourself; comparing yourself to everyone else. “Why would you pick someone like me who has so many years of emotional baggage that are buried so deep that it would take years upon years of healing and acceptance to get past it. You would be so much better off without me and the baggage I carry, someone who can freely show their emotions and not box them away to try to forget about them because of their past.” You looked up at him freely letting the tears fall. His face fell as he looked at you, he took one step forward and you took one back.

“Why would you choose the outcast of every friend group, the black sheep of their family, the one who never fits in with anyone no matter where I am. I am just a plain person–” You motioned to yourself with both hands, “–and you all are well, you; famous and absolutely beloved you– You would be better with someone who would fit into your lifestyle.” you moved your hands to gesture at him. He was frozen, his mouth just barely parted as if he wanted to say something but you were quicker.

“Why would you want to be with someone who is so inexperienced in a relationship that I didn't even know Seonghwa called me darling a few days ago? You would be better with someone with more experience than an almost 27 year old who hasn't had an actual relationship ever.” You ran a shaky hand through your hair, taking another step back from him and lowering your head again.

“Why would you choose me and not some other beautiful idol, one that doesn't have stretch marks and scars all over her body. Someone that is confident in their own skin.” You started pulling at your clothes, you unzipped the leather jacket that began to feel suffocating. The shirt you were once very comfortable in now felt like it was shrinking. You ran your hands through your hair tugging at the roots as you sank to your knees on the rocks. You felt the twinge of pain in your left knee where the rocks were digging into the skin where the nerves were fucked up. You didn't care.

You looked up to Hongjoong and watched as the tears started falling down his face. “Why would you choose someone who scares people away, someone who is and always has been the disappointment. You would be so much better off with someone who isn't covered in tattoos and looked down upon because of them.” You looked back down to the ground and your arms wrapped around your middle. Your breath became more erratic, your lungs holding hands with your heart as they leapt around in your chest. You couldn't feel anything but the roiling thoughts in your head. Everything was numb.

“There are so many better people out in the world that would be over the moon at this opportunity so why are you wasting it on me? The one who always loves too much and then they fall out of–”

“—Because we fucking love you,” his voice cracked. “Stop talking about yourself like that. Just stop and fucking listen to what I have to say.” Your head whipped up to look at him from the rocks that were interesting just a moment ago; he hardly ever cussed or raised his voice. You felt your bottom lip tremble and your heartbeat was crescendoing in your ears. You could barely keep eye contact through the tears that were spilling like raindrops down your face from the storm in your head. How could this be real? This had to be some fucked up dream. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself as you looked down. You couldn't stand to look at the man that was looking at you with so much love when you had barely any for yourself.

Would they actually stay?

Would you fuck up their dynamic coming into the relationship that has been going on for years?

Would they fall out of love with you?

Hongjoong interrupted your spiraling thoughts by stepping forward, kneeling in front of you, and grabbing your chin forcing you to look up at him. It wasn’t forceful like every other time someone did this to you, it was gentle, almost like you were porcelain and he was trying not to break you. The way he held you didn’t even make you flinch like it would have any other time. You hadn't even realized the tears had started falling quicker until he wiped them gently with his other hand. “Let's get one thing straight. You ARE NOT a waste.” He paused, taking a deep breath like he was trying to collect his thoughts and not lash out at you for letting your mind destroy you. You could see the fire burning in his dark eyes. Taking a stuttering breath you attempted to calm yourself.

“You are one of the most extraordinary people I have met, people in the past may have told you different but they are dead fucking wrong. You might have been burned in the past, but I assure you that we are absolutely serious about this. You feel like the missing piece we never knew we needed. We are pursuing you. You are the person that we want to have with us from now on. You. Not anyone else. You. We want you through the light and the dark. We want you through everything. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” you whispered. He moved his grip on your chin to cup your cheek. You felt the walls you had built around your heart begin to crumble. The storm in your head had started to dissipate, you could feel your body grounding itself with his touch. He was being so gentle, you leaned into it and closed your eyes. This was a feeling you could get used to.

“Good, now that we are on the same page, will you let us pursue you?” You met his eyes and saw the raw vulnerability. He was holding his heart out to you on a silver platter; you had the opportunity to take it and protect it or smash it to pieces.

“I have been noticing how all of you act with me and not the other members of my team. I took a deep dive into my feelings on the drive to that wretched hotel and discovered how I truly felt about all of you, and have continued to realize the extent of those feelings as the days have passed. That I love you too, but I am so fucking scared of being with all of you and then you leaving like everyone else has. That would absolutely destroy me.”

“We don't plan on leaving you, not in a million years.” He scooted closer to you, slow enough that if you wanted to you could move away. You didn’t.

“I am and always have been open to anything; but–” You paused, wringing your hands together. “Even with your affirmations of not leaving I am still absolutely terrified; every other time someone promised they would stay they didn’t.” Taking a shuttering deep breath you continued your rambling.

“I don't know If I am prepared for this–” You trailed off and fully took him in and watched as his expression shifted. The tears that were spilling down his face had ceased but you could see the dried tear tracks. A fresh set of tears started threatening to spill down your face at his expression. It was reserved but you could see the sadness lingering in his features. His beautiful dark eyes were dimmed, the shine they once held moved to the tears lingering in his eyes; they took it all.

He moved the hand that was cupping your face to take your hand. “Just one chance, that's all we are asking for. We just need one chance to show you how wrong they are, just one to show you how loved you are– Please– please let us show you the love you deserve.” He squeezed your hand tightly. Grounding himself and you into this moment.

You took a deep breath in and out looking down slightly, You let out a small sigh and for the first time in a long, long time listened to your heart over your mind. “I think–” The walls finally crumbled. You steeled yourself preparing to walk into the unknown with them. “I think I would like to join you.”

You raised your head back up and looked at him. You could see the relief flicker across his face, it morphed into a sweet smile as he let out a breath he must have been holding. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You let out a watery laugh and clung to him. You stayed there enjoying the comfort of each other for a few minutes. He pulled away gently and looked at you. He was smiling so wide at you. He glanced from your eyes down to your lips and back up again. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded to him as he got up from his kneeling position and offered his hand to you. You gently took it and stood on wobbly legs. He stepped closer and moved his hands to rest on your hips, he rested his forehead against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss. His lips were plush against yours and tasted faintly of strawberries and salt from his tears earlier. You brought your hands around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. You smiled into the kiss as he sighed through his nose. He tightened his arms around your waist pulling you impossibly closer. Tilting his head he slightly deepened the kiss and you could feel how he poured all of his emotions into it. The love, the relief, the excitement. You both pulled away to breathe shortly after the kiss began. You opened your eyes to look at him and he was already watching you. He pulled you into another hug and rested his head in the juncture between your shoulder and neck.

“We won't let you down, I promise. You will be the most loved person in the world.” He murmured into the skin he was nuzzled against. You continued to play with his hair and he leaned further into you if that was even possible. The two of you had no space between your bodies, you could feel his slightly erratic heartbeat against your own. His breathing was caressing the side of your neck as he rested there. His arms were wrapped tightly around your back leaving no room for you to move. You could feel the heat creeping up to your face at the closeness. Your phone started buzzing in your jacket pocket, you pulled your head and one arm away from holding him and pulled it out.

“It's Aurora, she is probably wondering where we are.” You cleared your throat to make sure it didn't sound like you had just been harshly crying and then answered the phone. He pouted at you and you stuck your tongue out at him. He did the same to you before putting his head back into the juncture of your neck just resting there. You felt him squeeze you and you let out a small huff.

“Hey, what's up?” you combed your fingers through Hongjoong’s hair, he melted further into you again.

“Hey it has been almost an hour, are you guys on your way back?” You could barely hear her from all of the noise coming through the phone; they must be having a rager over there. Hongjoong huffed a laugh at how loud everything was in the background.

“Yeah, we were just sitting at the overlook talking, we are heading back now.” Hongjoong started moving his hands up and down your back, it was soothing.

“Okay, see you soon Boo, I love you, be safe.”

“I always am, I love you too, see you soon”

“We need to head back Joongie,” you said, sticking your phone back in your jacket pocket.

“I don't want to,” he whined, pulling away from you and crossing his arms. The leather creaked and you laughed at him. He is already trying to use aegyo on you, if he got any cuter you might have to squish his cheeks.

“Come on Joongie, I have seven other boyfriends waiting to see me.” You could only imagine the chaos that was going to unfold when you got back.

“Say it again.” His eyes were on you and it made you just a little nervous the way he was staring into your soul.

“I have seven other boyfriends waiting to see me.” You watched the smile on his face grow. He was almost jittery with what you could only assume was excitement and a little bit of adrenaline.

“I cannot tell you how happy that makes me,” he said, pulling you into another quick hug. He pulled away and gave you a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning around and grabbing his helmet. He handed it to you tilting his head to the side. You shook your head with a smile at his silent demand. You gently put it over his head and snapped the chinstrap into place. You grabbed your helmet off the ground and dusted it off before handing Hongjoong your glasses. He held them for you, cleaning the lenses of the tear stains with the fabric of his shirt peeking out the bottom of the leather jacket. You raised the visor and held out your hand for the glasses. He gave them to you and you slipped them on and slapped your visor down. You looked at him and grabbed the sides of his hemet and pressed your helmet to his for a helmet kiss. He let his hands rest over yours as you both looked at each other through the dark visors.

“Let's go see our boyfriends.” You stepped away from him and threw your leg over Ink. He settled in behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you closer as you started the engine. He may have left a little space earlier but now he was as close as he could be. You gave him little warning as you took off back the way you came. The small jolt made him squeeze you tighter and laugh.

“I wish this didn't have to end, I could do this all day every day.”

“Looks like we might have to get you a motorcycle, Joongie.” You responded while leaning into a turn. Because he was practically molded to your back he leaned perfectly with you; he was a quick study.

“We might just have to do that, then you could have someone to race," he said thoughtfully as you both straightened back up.

You made your way back the way you came and once you got to your gate you pushed the button to open it up. As you made it through the trees you smiled at the cars that were parked along your driveway. This is what you loved, being able to come home and see that you had people choosing to spend time with you.

You pulled into the garage and helped Hongjoong get his helmet off after you took yours off. This was the calm before the storm. You knew once they found out you had accepted their invitation that your life would completely change for the better. You studied Hongjoong as he took off the leather jacket you lent him. He turned around to look at you and smiled once he caught you already looking at him.

“Can you pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming?” He approached you, reached out and lightly pinched you. The pain was only there for a moment, but it was just enough; this was real. You let out a laugh and flung your arms around him. He reciprocated the hug and you couldn’t contain your joy. After a couple of minutes you let him go and grabbed his hand interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Hey, Joongie,” his eyes snapped up to yours from looking at your intertwined hands. “I love you too.” With a strength that you assumed he pulled out of his cute ass he tugged you to him and planted a kiss on your lips that sent heat over your neck and to your face. You melted into the kiss but as soon as it started it ended. Giggling like a schoolgirl you started dragging him into your house, eager to see the rest of your boyfriends; no matter the state they were in.

You started to feel the nerves creep up the back of your neck. You squashed them in an instant, this was your choice, these were your boys, they loved you like you loved them. Hongjoong squeezed your hand before letting go so you both could hold onto the handrail to go down the stairs. You heard the crazy singing and saw the flashing lights before you even made it down the first three steps. As the both of you made your way down everyone’s eyes snapped to you. Aurora was behind the bar mixing what looked like some kind of cocktail. Moving over to go to your team you took a seat next to Meadow at the center of the bar. You could feel the grin threatening to split your face. She was smiling back at you and so were the rest of them. You looked at them with a quizzical look, you were interrupted before you could even ask what was going on.

“Y/n-niee!! We missed you!!” You turned just in time to barely catch Yeosang who had thrown himself at you. He nearly toppled you over into the bar. Hongjoong, the life saver, had steadied you. You didn’t even realize that he followed you over.

“Sangie, be careful," he lightly scolded. Yeosang had looked at him like he just kicked his puppy. He was either tipsy or drunk, his face was just barely red but you could feel the heat radiating from him. You giggled and smoothed out Yeosang's soft brown hair. He was standing between your legs and just leaning on you with his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. Shortly after he had enough of his slouched position he moved over to Hongjoong and rested himself on his back with his arms over Hongjoong’s shoulders; almost like a back hug. You smiled softly at him, he didn’t even know that you were his partner yet and he was acting like this.

“Hey, want a drink you two?” You heard Aurora from behind the bar. You turned to look at her red face, she was at least tipsy.

“Yes please, you know what I like, and something sweet for him.” You nodded your head toward Hongjoong. He looked at you with his head tilted. “I have seen you with bitter alcohol. I would rather not have you hissing and spitting at it in my house.” All of the people surrounding you started laughing at your comment, even Yeosang let out a small snicker. Hongjoong smiled at you and grabbed your hand under the bar. You smoothed your thumb over the back of his hand.

“Maybe a strawberry daiquiri?” She asked. You nodded at her and turned to sit actually facing the bar. She grabbed the small pitcher you set in the fridge earlier, poured it out into a tall glass, and slid it over the counter to him. He gently took it and took a sip. Humming at the taste of the sweet drink.

“So, what happened while we were gone? I see that most of them are at least some form of tipsy or drunk.” Rowan snickered as you finished your statement.

“We watched Aurora and Meadow kick their asses at Mario Kart. Then there was a game of foosball that ended up in them taking shots each time one one scored. That’s where Mingi and Wooyoung got their drunkenness from. Yunho and Jongho swept the floor with them.”

“Seonghwa and Yeosang both decided that it would be a great idea to play a tipsy round of ping pong. Wooyoung had somehow got them to take shots when they missed, which only got worse as they went on. We also got it on video just for the two of you.” Aurora said with a giant smile as she rounded the bar to go sit back next to Meadow.

“Yunho and Asher played a few rounds of Air hockey, Asher won one and Yunho won two.” Forrest added from the opposite corner, smirking at Asher who was slightly pouting between his husband and Hongjoong.

“You didn't have to mention that in front of the champion of all of these games.” He leans toward Hongjoong and whispers, "I think she comes down here just to practice strategy sometimes.” He straightened and smiled at you while you were flipping him off

“Oh also, San and Jongho found your whisky collection. San is completely red faced and absolutely hilarious. I knew my flush got bad but I think he might have me beat. Jongho is scary with how well he holds his liquor,” Asher said. You turned your head to look around the space and immediately spotted the men in question. San had a small almost empty glass of whiskey and a large smile on his face watching Jongho, who seemed to be sober, singing. It got to a part that he knew and he immediately started loudly singing using his glass as a microphone. Wooyoung was hanging on San’s shoulder and laughing his ass off at the show. Yunho was dancing animatedly next to Jongho and Mingi was drunken headbanging. Seonghwa was a little red as well, he approached your group at the bar and smiled sweetly at you and HongSang. He rested his arms over your shoulders much like Yeosang was doing with Hongjoong. You leaned back into his embrace and decided to be a little bold to see his reaction.

You kissed the inside of his forearm lightly as Aurora slid a mudslide toward you. She watched with wide eyes at your motion. Before you grabbed the glass you held out your pinky to her. It had become a staple to hold out your pinky to promise that you would talk soon if now wasn't the right time. She linked her pinky around yours with a large smile, she already knew judging by the look on her face but knowing her she would be begging for the details later.

You looked up to Seonghwa who was looking at you with wide eyes. His brain must have been lagging out. With the hand that Aurora just released you grabbed one of his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. His hands were slightly clammy but they were soft and delicate. You brought his hand up to your lips and kissed the back of it before releasing it and grabbing your mudslide. Hongjoong squeezed the hand you held under the table you squeezed back and took a sip of your drink.

“Noonaa! Come play a game with us!!” You turned to look at Wooyoung, he was standing there staring at you. You tilted your head at him and pointed to yourself. He nodded, almost knocking himself into Mingi who was standing directly to his side. You patted Seonghwa’s arms to signal you were going to get up. He unwrapped his arms from around you and stepped away. You got up and smiled at everyone.

“What are we playing Woo? I hope you know I am not all that great at games.” You heard your team and their spouses burst into laughter behind you. You glared at them over your shoulder silently willing them to play along, just for the hell of it. You turned back to the men who were looking at you curiously.

“I wanna play air hockey with Y/n-nie” San slightly slurred. You looked over at him and raised your eyebrow. He was wearing a grin and leaning heavily on Yunho.

“You gotta be able to stand by yourself to play Sannie,” he immediately separated himself from Yunho with a wobble which almost made him knock into Wooyoung who in turn knocked into Mingi in an attempt to avoid San. You burst into giggles and the others at the bar laughed wholeheartedly at the men standing in front of the TV. Once you recovered from your laughing fit you saw all of them pouting at you.

“Aww you poor babies,” you cooed at them making your way over. Your smile was teasing as you pinched San and Wooyoung’s cheeks. They tried to swat you away but missed. “Come on Sannie, let's play a round.” He immediately lit up and started making his way over to the air hockey table, thankfully it was the closest one otherwise he would have ran into something on the way. You turned it on and slid one of the pushers his way. He surprised you by actually catching it.

“First one to eight?” He nodded at you and was trying so hard to lock in. You took pity on him and decided to play a little nicer than you usually did. Most of the time against the team and their spouses, no matter how drunk or sober, you tried your damndest to kick their asses. You let him score some against you and then you got a couple to make it seem like you weren’t throwing the match. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Forrest and Rowan go to the foosball table with Willow and Aurora. You smirked at the thought of trying that with the boys, maybe next time. Once San got to seven you really decided to kick it up. You came up from behind and got up to seven from your measly two. You made a show of trying to block the puck but in the end you ‘slipped’ and he won. The boys surrounding him cheered and you felt someone wrap themselves around you. You turned your head and looked at Yeosang, he was a cute clingy drunk.

“Noona!” You looked away from Yeosang and to Wooyoung. “Can we play Mario Kart?” He was standing there staring at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes that could rival Yunho’s. You nodded at him and he immediately ran and jumped onto the couch.

“The only thing is that we will need to rotate so everyone can play, even the team and their spouses if they choose to do so.” You walked over to the couch with Yeosang trailing shortly behind you, you settled him on the couch in front of where Mocha was and took a seat on the plush rug in front of him. Everyone flocked to the sitting area in front of the large tv. Jongho and Hongjoong took a seat flanking Yeosang, Seonghwa made himself comfortable on the ground next to you in front of Hongjoong. Yunho and Mingi sat on the other side of Hongjoong and San sat next to you. Wooyoung was sitting in the corner of the couch right next to Yunho. Aurora and Meadow made their way over, Aurora took a seat next to Wooyoung and Meadow plopped down on the floor next to Mingi; her bias. You snuck a glance at her and you could see the tips of her ears turn pink. Willow sat next to Aurora and Rowan made himself comfortable in front of her and hung his arms on her knees. Forrest and Asher sat themselves on the rug with Asher next to San and Forrest on his other side. You looked over your chosen family with a smile, this is where your heart is. A weight landed on the top of your head and you assumed Yeosang put his chin on you, shortly after his arms wrapped around your shoulders in the same pose he did with Hongjoong earlier.

Rowan, who was the closest to the entertainment center, grabbed the joycons and handed them out, Wooyoung was the first one to grab one and you followed. Forrest moved across the floor and grabbed the one matching yours and Aurora grabbed the last one. The first game turned into the second and the second turned into the fifth which turned into the eighth. You all were tipsy and or drunk and having so much fun. It had eventually almost turned into a screaming match when Wooyoung hit Mingi with one too many blue shells. Watching those two bicker would never get old. Once everyone had at least one round of playing you heard Jongho speak up from slightly behind you.

“Pool?” You turned to look up at him and you could see the slight red tinge on his face, he definitely was holding his liquor better than everyone else. He had a small glass in his hand and was swirling it as he looked down at you.

“Okay, you are totally on, give me a second and I'll head over.” You got up from beside San and Seonghwa who were slightly leaning on you. They both made a noise of protest as you got up to head to the bar. Aurora was already behind it as she was getting a drink of water for Meadow.

“Jongho and I are playing pool,” You didn’t even have to finish what you were going to say as she already brought out the tray and poured several shots. She knew exactly what you were doing and she grinned at you proudly. Once she was finished you grabbed it and your mudslide and walked over toward the pool table. Setting the tray on the air hockey table you smiled sweetly at the rest of the boys who had circled up around the small area.

“Alright, there are rules in my house, especially if you play pool with me. Every time one of the opposing persons object balls gets sunk you take a shot.” The boys had immediately started to jest like school children. Some of them were patting Jongho on the back and some of them looked worriedly at you. You gave a wink to Hongjoong who had come to lean against the air hockey table. Your team had taken a few of the bar stools and brought them over for the ones who wanted to sit.

“Who breaks?” You walked over to the shelves under the stairs to grab your cue stick. The boy's eyes widened as you pulled out the hidden compartment on one of the bookshelves. You grabbed your black and white onyx cue stick and shut the compartment.

“Ladies first,” he said with a sweep of his hand toward the perfectly arranged object balls. You stepped up to the table and took the cue ball he offered you. You set it down and lined up your shot before putting your cue stick down and balancing on the bridge. You took the shot and the object balls scattered, you just so happened to knock in the solid bright red ball, your lucky number; three. All of the boys gasped and looked between you and the pocket you just made the ball into. You smiled and bowed mockingly as Jongho made his way over to the soju shots. He grabbed one and downed it.

You smirked at him and moved around the table toward the next ball you could possibly make in. You spotted the opportunity with the solid dark red ball. It was situated close enough to the pocket that you could just tip it in if you rebounded the yellow ball against it. You leaned over the side of the table and looked to line up the shot. You pulled back the cue stick and let the cue ball fly. It worked just as you hoped it would, but it did put you in a bad position. The cue ball was surrounded by striped object balls. You watched as Jongho took another shot. His face was getting a little more of a red tint to it. You moved around the table and positioned yourself to make sure your shot would leave him with terrible positions. Balancing out again you knocked into his stripes and the two of them scattered to opposite sides of the table while the cue ball spun out into the middle. He was watching you carefully and you shrugged at him with an innocent smile.

You made your way to Hongjoong and Yeosang and reached behind them to grab your mudslide. Hongjoong slipped his arm around your waist and Yeosang rested his head on your shoulder. The three of you watched as Jongho figured out his best plan of attack. You took a sip of your drink and watched as He managed to knock in one of his stripes. Hongjoong reached over to the tray of shots and grabbed one. He set it against your lips and you tipped your head back taking in the bitter liquid. You smiled bashfully at him as he set it back down like nothing had just happened. Someone was smacking someone else behind you and figured it was Aurora doing the smacking to either Meadow, Willow or both. You watched as Jongho conferred with Yunho who was sipping on his drink on one of the bar stools, he was almost as tall as Jongho even while sitting. Yunho nodded at Jongho as he moved to the opposite end and lined up his shot. You could see what he was doing, it was going to be a tricky shot because he was leaning over most of the table and because it required precision strength. Wooyoung landed a light smack to his ass in encouragement. Jongho looked over his shoulder with a glare as San had enough common sense to drag Woo away from Jongho. You snickered and took another sip of your drink to cover your laughter. He realigned his shot and let his strength propel him to make the shot across the pool table. Alas, his strength was too much this time. The ball he was aiming for had ricocheted off the corners and ended up in the opposite corner he was aiming for.

You handed Hongjoong your drink, stepped up to the table again and looked over the remaining balls. You had five remaining not counting the eight ball; he had six. You lined up your shots and watched as the blue one went into the pocket, it may not have been the one you were going for but you would take it. You watched as Hongjoong handed him another shot. Jongho probably was getting tired of you at this point.

You looked around and mentally took a tally of which shot would be best for you right now. You moved to the opposite corner and leaned over the table to shoot the cue ball across the table like Jongho had. You hit it lightly and it moved a little slow. You watched with bated breath as it approached the yellow ball. You hoped that your hit wasn't too forceful to knock both of them in. They clinked together and you let out a loud noise of accomplishment as the yellow ball fell in but not the cue ball. Hongjoong and your team applauded you and the rest of the boys stood there staring at you in shock. This time you approached the shots and grabbed one. You bowed and presented it to Jongho over your head, just to possibly piss him off. You felt him take it from you, you looked up at him through your lashes. He was definitely feeling it a little more. His eyes were almost dazed as he looked at you. You stood up to your full height and patted him on the head before walking back to the table.

You decided to give him a chance to catch up. You knocked the cue ball into one of his striped ones that was right next to your solid. He stepped up to the table and seemed to be internally debating his next shot. You grabbed your drink from Hongjoong and took another large drink, it was getting a little melty. You felt the boys resume their previous spots, Hongjoong pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips were slightly cold. You caught a faint whiff of something that smelled strangely like your mudslide. Looking down at the drink it seemed like it was marginally lower than you would think it was. You looked back to him and he was smiling at you already. You raised your eyebrows at him and his grin got bigger.

“It's really good, can you blame me?” He whispered to you.

“No, I can't blame you,” you chuckled. “I could show you how to make one sometime soon if you want, I know Sangie would love it.” He picked up his head from your shoulder at the mention of his nickname and smiled tiredly at you.

“Hi, Sweets, are you getting tired?” You brushed your fingers through his hair and he leaned into you. He nodded against your hand and returned his head to your shoulder. You waved San over and had Yeosang lean on him instead because you knew you would be moving again. Jongho had made his dark red striped ball in. You turned to grab a shot and winked at him before downing it. You had a fairly decent alcohol tolerance so you were just barely at the edge of between tipsy and drunk, you also had a lot less than the others surrounding you. You watched as he lined up another shot and let the cue ball fly to the opposite corner but instead of knocking his in, which was right next to one of yours, he knocked your purple solid in. You laughed at the irony, his purple betrayed him. Most of the boys behind him groaned at the shot. He let out a sigh and made his way over to the tray, at least he was abiding by the rules. You smiled sickly sweet at him and he rolled his eyes at you, you could just barely see the smile hidden behind the glass as he downed the shot.

You sat your drink down and stepped away from Hongjoong. You turned to look at Yeosang and San who were wrapped around each other watching you with half closed eyes. Turning toward the table you assessed your chances of winning this right now. Jongho’s shot had put you in a pretty good position; maybe it was time to put on a show. You lined up your first shot; the green ball went into the pocket without a hitch. You celebrated and watched Jongho take another shot.

“You may as well finish the last couple, she has you in the corner Jongho.” He turned to look at Rowan who spoke up from behind Willow. You smirked at him, he knew all too well how easy it was to lose to you. If you remembered correctly, out of all the games you played against him he maybe won a total of ten times out of the almost fifty you played.

“Nobody puts baby in the corner.” you heard San mutter under his breath. You laughed loudly and so did Aurora and Willow. Dirty Dancing was one of Willow’s favorite movies, she could almost recite it word for word at this point. It was your go to movie for wine drunk girls nights. Once you recovered you turned back to the table and looked at the two remaining object balls you needed to knock in to win. All that was left was the orange ball and the black ball.

Turning to Hongjoong you sent him a wink and lined up the shot behind your back. The orange ball just so happened to be close to one of the pockets and all by its lonesome. You checked yourself before shooting the shot. You didn't even have to turn around to know you made it. The boys behind you erupted into flabbergasted chatter. Hongjoong smirked at you, giving you a slight nod. You looked at Jongho who had his jaw almost hanging down to the floor. Making your way over to the tray you grabbed a shot and handed it to him.

“Drink up, Aegiya” (baby) He looked up at you wide eyed and you watched the gears start turning in his brain as he processed the nickname, it was one that most of the boys used on him; and now by extension you. He gently took the drink from you and downed it keeping eye contact with you. His face was just about as red as San’s at this point. You smiled at him and walked back to the pool table. Looking at the black ball you knew this one was going to be more of a challenge. It was close to one of the pockets but it was almost completely surrounded by Jongho’s stripes. You debated a minute before you decided to pull out your bag of tricks. You handed Hongjoong your cue stick and walked over to the wall, everyone was watching you with curiosity as you plucked one of the shorter ones that had a different tip on it.

Forrest let out a dark chuckle, he knew what you were up to. Most of your team followed him. You leaned on the table angeling it so you could be straight on with the black ball. Most of your weight was leaned on your front hand and front foot. You tilted the cue stick at a forty-five degree angle and aimed for the top half of the ball.

“Far corner pocket,” you called out.

“There's no way,” you heard Mingi mutter under his breath to Yunho who was nodding. You snickered before taking a deep breath and smacking into the top half of the cue ball. You watched as it hopped over Jongho’s object balls and hit the eight ball. Holding your breath you watched the cue ball ricochet away from the black ball. Everyone started basically screaming as the eight ball went in. You laughed at Jongho’s shocked expression. Your team and their partners were laughing their asses off at the eight men. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, turning your head and you looked up at Seonghwa. He was grinning like a madman.

“Thank you for defending my honor,” he murmured to you. Another round of laughter came from you and Hongjoong. You patted his arm and looked at Jongho who was still staring at the pool table.

“Don't forget your celebratory shot little bear,” you teased. He looked at you and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. He grabbed a shot from the tray and downed it. You smiled at him tilting your head.

“Remind me to never play pool against her,” you heard Yunho mutter. Mingi laughed and wrapped himself around Yunho.

“Alright, after that riveting pool match I think it is time that we head home," Aurora sounded from where your team had situated themselves. Her and Meadow were standing together and you could tell that Meadow was tired. You nodded at the two of them.

“I would give you a hug but currently someone is taking all of them.” You looked at the shoulder Seonghwa was leaning on. He had a lazy smile on his face and shrugged. The couple chuckled at you and waved.

“Let me know when you get home, that goes for all of you.” You looked pointedly in Forrest’s direction. He held his hands up mocking surrender.

“You forget one time and suddenly the world is ending” he muttered.

“You could have been on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere out here almost an hour away from your place, I don't want to hear it,” you argued back. Forrest looked to Asher who was nodding along with your words with a cheshire grin. He rolled his eyes at the two of you and started walking toward the stairs with a small pout on his face. You waved to Asher and Forrest as they disappeared up the stairs.

“Thank you for hosting us N/n (nickname) we had a lot of fun.” You looked at Rowan, ever the gentleman.

“It was my pleasure, we need to start doing this more often again, I missed it.”

“Agreed,” Willow and Rowan said in unison. They both looked at eachother and burst into a fit of giggles. They were so cute together.

“Drive safe, I'll see you both soon.” They both nodded and headed upstairs. You heard the door close and you turned to the eight men remaining. They all looked like the alcohol was taking its sleepy effect.

“Okay boys, let's get you all situated.” You looked to Hongjoong for help. He nodded at you and smiled, he gently helped separate Seonghwa from you. You watched as he took gentle care of him and started leading him toward the stairs. Most of the boys followed them and you were the last one up the stairs. You shut off the lights and smiled at the memories you created tonight. Some of the boys had stumbled to their bags and grabbed them. You watched with amusement as they tried to figure out which one was which.

“You can take your pick of rooms upstairs," you said as you walked around the house to turn off some of the other lights. Making sure all of them made it upstairs you followed shortly after. As you got up the stairs you saw Mingi and Yunho taking over the forest green room, Wooyoung and San in the plum room and you turned to see Yeosang and Jongho in the maroon room. You smiled to yourself at how well you knew them; your boyfriends. Once you were satisfied everyone was settled you made your way to your room to see Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting on your bed petting the giants. You smiled at the sight.

“Hi loves,” you said as you entered the room. Both of them looked at you with wide eyes and smiles. Hongjoong got up and approached you with a sweet smile.

“I still can't believe you're ours.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Seonghwa made a weird noise between a squeak and a choke. Both of you looked at him with concern. Hearing that seemed to sober him up a bit.

“You're ours?” He asked quietly looking up at you. You nodded with a large smile. He got up on wobbly legs and hugged the both of you. Hongjoong laughed as he was squished against the two of you. “I'm so happy you accepted, yeobo” (Darling). You could feel your smile get wider.

“Me too, my star” he pulled himself away from the two of you and planted a hesitant kiss on your cheek.

“I would like to kiss you, but I want to wait until I am sober," he muttered. You lightly laughed at him while grabbing his hand.

“I would love that, and I agree that needs to happen when you are sober, then you can have all the kisses.” he made a small celebratory motion and Hongjoong let out a snort at the elder man.

“Come on, let's get to bed,” Hongjoong gently put his hand on Seonghwa’s back. You nodded and let go of Hwa’s hand, stepping away and going to your closet to change so they could have a little privacy. You grabbed your moon child shirt and matching shorts. Taking off Seonghwa’s overshirt you gently set it on your vanity. You got situated and knocked on the door to make sure it was safe for you to come out. You giggled at the little bit of irony in what you were doing.

You heard Hongjoong respond that you were safe to come out. Stepping out you saw both of your boyfriends on the bed facing each other. You got into the bed behind Hongjoong who was now in the middle. The giants moved around and settled themselves up close to the three of you. Hongjoong had turned around to face you and you watched as Seonghwa hugged him from behind. Hongjoong reached out to you and laid his hand on your cheek. You closed your eyes as he started running his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone. You felt a small peck to your lips and you smiled at him as he pulled away.

“Goodnight Nae Sarang” (My Love) he muttered

“Goodnight Songbird, I love you. I am happy to be yours and I can't wait to tell the rest of the boys.”

“We love you too, I can't wait either.” He responded with a quiet voice and small smile, his eyes were half closed already. You took off your glasses and set them on the shelf you had next to your bed. Crawling into the bed you cuddled up closer to him and you felt his arm wrap around your waist as he tucked you under his chin. Seonghwa’s hand came to rest just above Hongjoong’s. You listened to their breath even out and let their rhythm lull you into sleep.

★☆☽ Timeskip ☾☆★

PIano music haunted your dreams. You watched as your Granny played the piano in front of hundreds of people. Her face had long since begun to fade from your memory, but you knew it was her. Every stroke, every note echoed across the large theater. People were watching with still silence as she played. It was her last show before she retired. When she finished the last note of one of the first songs she wrote everyone rose. It was a standing ovation, your grandpa, mother, and aunt were all standing beside you applauding loudly. Many people threw roses onto the stage.

You suddenly startled awake, you could feel the tears running down your face, again with the crying today; for fucks sake. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were spooned together and you were still tucked under Hongjoong’s chin. Not wanting to risk waking them up you lightly took both of their hands off of you and scooted off the bed as best you could. Toothless had positioned himself across your back but got up as soon as you started moving. You got up and looked down at the boys on your bed. You wished they could have met your Granny.

You grabbed your glasses and made your way downstairs to grab yourself a glass of cool water. Something rubbed against your calf and you looked down to see Toothless. He was rubbing himself across you and circling to anything he could reach. You stuck your hand out and he headbutted it and rubbed his entire body against you. He had always known when you were troubled, and generally the other two were not too far behind. You looked up from petting Toothless as soon as you heard a half meow. Beans had always been chatty even when she didn't quite have her morning voice yet. Mocha was silently following her. They both approached you and Toothless rubbed himself against Mocha, much like they used to do when they were little. You smiled at them and wished your Granny could have met them too. She would have absolutely loved them, your poor Papa was allergic to dogs so they opted for cats instead. You grew up around cats at their house, it was a bonus that your father couldn't come over. She would have loved how big and affectionate they were.

After giving some love to all three of them you set your glass in the sink. Instead of returning to bed you opted to go downstairs. Making your way to the stairs the giants almost toppled you over as they rushed to beat you down. You turned on the lights and went to the right into the second dining room. While walking to your destination you paused to look at the beautiful white plates that had silver designs; your Granny’s fine china. Yet another thing that she left you after her death. You made your way to the door in the back corner. Taking a deep breath you pushed open the door and flicked on the light. The layer of dust was scattered around as you walked into the room you had not been in for almost a year.

You took in the wood paneled room, it hadn’t changed. Turning to the side you looked at the large deep green couch. Beans had gotten up on it and was sitting there staring at you. Turning back to look at the majority of the room, it was littered with pictures of your family; every one of them was of your mother’s side. You looked at how happy you were all those years ago. Under the facade you knew you were going through some of the hardest moments of your life; but they had always been your light in the darkness. Your Granny and you were the star of most of the pictures littered about, she had been your favorite person.

Walking farther into the room you grabbed the picture that sat on top of the piano on the left. It was a selfie of you and her at her last performance. The both of you were wearing formal dresses and grinning like madmen. She was the reason you are who you are today, her sarcasm and quick witted replies had always stuck with you. Her teasing nature was something that annoyed most people but you absolutely loved it. She loved to play pranks on your Papa and was delighted when you first showed her some on tiktok. The memory of this day came to the forefront of your mind.

“I would like to dedicate this final show to my family. Tommy, you have been the best support and husband I could have asked for. Thank you for listening to me drill these songs nonstop for the last sixty years, I love you.” She was smiling at your Papa. You turned to your right to look at him and you could see the love in his eyes as he gazed up at her. She turned slightly to address your mom and aunt who were on the other side of you.

“Cadence and Melody, thank you for watching your old mom perform and giving me a reason to keep doing this, you both inspired me to continue doing what I love and for that I am eternally grateful, I love you both– Y/n,” she turned to look at you. You watched as her grin faltered and tears started to well in her beautiful light blue eyes.

“My muse, I love you so much. Thank you for allowing me to teach you, thank you for taking an interest in one of the most precious things to me. I know you don't want to follow in my footsteps but I hope you keep playing as you move on to your next adventure. You are the reason I wrote this final song.”

You could still hear the faint melody of the sweet song she played for you. It was the first and only time it debuted. Before you could stop yourself you set the picture down gently and stepped in front of one of the two pianos. Her piano. The one you got when you got here was parallel to you, but you had a soft spot for this one. You had so many memories attached to this particular piano. She taught you everything she knew with this piano. You flourished your hands behind you at nothing and sat at the bench. Pulling away the key cover you dusted off the ivory keys the best you could.

You sat there with your hands on the keys without pressing any of them down. The memories came rolling back. She agreed the first time you asked her to teach you; she was over the moon that her only grandchild was taking an interest in her passion. You remembered sitting next to her while she showed you your first notes over fifteen years ago. The laughter you both shared and the applause as you finished a song in front of your family. You remembered the silly parts of sitting on this bench too. She had always flourished either her dress or air if there was nothing there before she sat down. It was a habit you picked up from her and you hadn't let go of it since. That was the childhood you deserved, not the shitty one you were forced into by your wretched father.

You flexed your fingers to test to see if it was in tune, the first note rang and it was just slightly out. It would be good enough for playing. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself. You began the first notes of the first movement of Moonlight Sonata. Your Granny loved this song. You let the melancholy sounding music take over. Closing your eyes you played it by muscle memory, it was the first song she taught you. You felt the tears well up in your eyes and before you could stop them they were rolling down your face like raindrops on a window. You let out a shuddering breath and continued playing, your eyes never opened and the tears never ceased.

In the quiet of the night was always when you liked to play. You didn't have to worry about people judging you or the noise of everything that was awake during the day. It was just peaceful in the dark corners of the night. You continued for a few minutes before you heard a shuffle by the door. Assuming it was the giants you kept playing. You heard footsteps approaching you on the carpet, opening your eyes, you turned around and you saw Seonghwa. His eyes were squinted at you and at the intrusion of the lights. His hair was a mess from where he had previously been laying on one of your pillows.

“You play beautifully. I didn't even know you played.” He shuffled over to you and sat close to you on the small seat you had next to the bench so someone could watch you play. He reached out and wiped away some of the tears on your face. You leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek gently. “What’s wrong, my moon?” You closed your eyes at the nickname, you felt the tears start to fall again just slightly quicker this time. The thought flickered across your mind that she sent him to you, that she sent them all to you.

“I haven't played in over a year–” you rasped. “–I haven't played since my Granny died. The first time I played since she passed was earlier today when Jongho was doing his conductor part– and the only reason I did was to get Aurora to stop bugging me about playing– she didn't even know I haven't played since she died..”

He pulled you off of the piano seat and into his lap, you put your head on his chest and continued to cry. “I miss her so much Hwa–” you clutched his clothing”–I miss her so, so much. I wish she was here to see how far I have come, how much I have improved and learned. I wish she could have met you and the rest of the boys. I wish she could have met my best friends, the only ones I had outside of her. Every single one of you would have loved her. I miss her Hwa– I miss her so bad…”

He clutched you tighter to his chest as you wept. He started to comb his fingers through your hair as he looked around the room. The first thing he saw was a picture of you and what he assumed to be your Granny on the piano. The next one he saw was of a piano with three sets of hands on it, two sets were from adults, the other set was from a child. His gaze caught on the picture in the center of the collage on the wall closest to the piano, that must have been them, the couple in the center of the photo were looking at each other with such love. He returned to look at the one on the top of the piano, it must have meant a lot if it was the only one there. “Is that her?” he asked you quietly. You picked up your head from his chest and followed his gaze.

“Yeah, it's the last picture I have of us together before I left for Korea when I was twenty. It was also her final show, she dedicated a song she wrote to me that night.” you looked back to him and he was looking at you with such care. You smiled at him with a watery smile, he returned the gesture before wiping the tears off your cheeks again.

“If she is anything like you, I know I would have loved her.”

Your smile got wider, “She was a mischief maker a lot like Wooyo–” You wiped some more tears from your eyes, “–she absolutely loved poking fun at people.” you let out a watery chuckle. “In fact, one of my favorite memories was when I was little and we scared the absolute shit out of my mother by hiding around the house when she came to pick me up to go home. We hid and evaded my mother for almost twenty minutes. Just as she was about to give up, both of us jumped out at her. I had never heard her scream so loudly and jump so high. All of us burst into uncontrollable laughter after and my mom let me stay the night that night, just for the hell of it. The three of us ended up having a sleepover and eating tons of snacks and falling asleep on a couch very similar to the one in the corner.” you watched as he gazed at the large couch settled in the corner of the room directly to the right of the door.

“She sounds wonderful.” you nodded at him and leaned to rest your head on his shoulder.

“She really was.” you trailed off. The two of you sat there in silence for a couple of minutes just basking in eachother’s warmth. You turned and looked back at the piano. Scooting to get out of Seonghwa’s hold you moved to the bench and stretched out to the keys to begin playing again. This time you played one of your favorites; Clair de Lune. Once you fell into the familiar rhythm you let your muscle memory take over again. You didn't miss a beat of the hauntingly beautiful melody while you looked over to Seonghwa. He was resting his elbow on his crossed legs and his chin was in his hand. He was watching your hands as they danced across the keys. You smiled at how entranced he was before turning back to focus on the song. The melody flowed throughout the room and echoed slightly off the wooden paneled walls. You could feel the vibrations through your fingers and you let them calm you. You noticed your heartbeat wasn't in your throat like it had been earlier today. Your hands felt more sure of themselves as they glided across the keys. The grief, while never gone, had made itself smaller. You swayed with the music and let the final chords ring throughout the room before letting the petals go.

Senghwa immediately swept you up and off of the bench. You laughed at the sudden attack but stilled as you realized he was looking down at you. His eyes were swimming with adoration, he was so close you could see the variations of color in his dark eyes. You let your eyes flicker to take in the rest of his bare face this close. His skin was so smooth and his smile was perfect. His lips were a light shade of red like he had been worrying them through his teeth. You looked back to his eyes and watched the realization of the situation you were in settle into his mind.

He leaned in slowly and pressed his plump lips against yours. You were initially stiff but immediately relaxed into his gentle hold as your eyes fluttered closed. As soon as you started kissing him back he pulled you as close to him as you could get. You brought your arms up and placed your hands on his cheeks letting your thumbs run across them. His hands smoothed over your back and you felt a shiver roll through you at the light touch of his skin where your top rode up just slightly. His hands were warm as he moved the shirt upward just a little, it was an intimate gesture; a gentle caress. His thumbs started rubbing softly at the base of your spine. You let your hands travel over his cheeks and settle at the back of his neck where you played with the long strands of his hair. He pulled away from you and your eyes fluttered open. He let out a small content sigh, his eyes didn't open as he leaned his forehead against yours.

You rested there for what only felt like seconds before a yawn escaped you. He opened his eyes and looked into yours. You both were smiling at eachother. Before you could do anything else a yawn escaped him too. You chuckled at him and pulled him to you in a quick hug. He rested himself against you briefly before you separated from him. He let out a small whine and pouted at you. You tilted your head at him with a small smile

“Come on my star, let's go back to bed.” You grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers with his before making your way out of the room. The giants followed shortly behind as you turned off the light. The two of you quietly made your way up the stairs and went to your room. Hongjoong was cuddled up in the center of the bed in a large cocoon of blankets. Both of you let out huffs of laughter and took your respective spots on the bed. Before you laid on the bed you took your glasses off and set them on the shelf again. Hongjoong’s body subconsciously reacted to Seonghwa joining him; he had just barely scooted closer to the taller man’s form. Seonghwa gently grabbed him and pulled him forward to his chest to tuck him under his chin. Once he was settled you scooted in behind Hongjoong. You felt Seonghwa’s hand lightly searching for something. You grabbed his hand and he immediately settled. Cuddling farther into the back of Hongjoong’s neck you fell asleep.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 17)

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