#see i like the first bring it on. big fan of that

[bjlipss]

— bug, part v.

contents: college!sukuna x weird!reader. weird as in just odd and confusing behaviour but nonetheless cute, nothing pervy-weird. reader wears glasses because yes. really awkward and silly hehe. also there is a use of “girlfriend” in here so ig fem reader should be mentioned.

part iv <- part v -> part vi

you are both in the library.

not because either of you are studying. not really.

you’re curled up in one of the weird, saggy armchairs near the back—hoodie too big, socked feet tucked under you, notebook propped awkwardly on your knees. you’re not even pretending to do anything academic. your textbook’s open on the table beside you, forgotten, while you scribble doodles into the margins of your notes like it’s a commissioned masterpiece.

there’s a frog with a sword. a duck in sunglasses. something that might be a hedgehog in a cape.

you’re also humming. low and wandering. not a tune he recognizes, and maybe you don’t either—you keep shifting the melody halfway through, then giggling softly to yourself like your brain changed channels mid-song.

sukuna’s sitting across from you, textbook cracked open on his lap, posture loose and lazy like he’s got all the time in the world. and technically, he does. he’s already skimmed the chapter. already skimmed the quiz. already skimmed three possible excuses to ditch group work next week.

but he’s not looking at the page.

he’s watching you.

he doesn’t even realize it at first—how long he’s been staring. how quiet he’s gotten.

your hair’s a mess. your glasses keep slipping down your nose. you’ve chewed halfway through your pen cap, and your shoelaces are still untied from this morning. and you’re not even trying to be quiet—just softly off in your own world, like it never occurs to you to shrink yourself down.

and somehow, he doesn’t want you to.

he glances down at his notes. blinks. tries to focus.

then looks at you again.

you’re drawing something new now. a little bat with cartoonishly huge eyes and a speech bubble that says “i crave blood and validation.”

his lips twitch before he can stop them.

you notice.

your gaze flicks up—quick, sharp. “what?”

his mouth opens.

and then he says, too fast, “you wanna come to my game?”

you blink.

“…what game?”

he clears his throat. suddenly, very interested in the pattern of the wood grain on the table.

“basketball. tomorrow night. we’re playing against southfield.”

you tilt your head, curious. “are they the ones with the scary mascot?”

“…it’s a goose.”

“yeah. terrifying.”

he huffs a laugh, soft and embarrassed. rubs the back of his neck. “you don’t have to or whatever. i just—figured you’d like it. it gets loud. chaotic. you like loud shit.”

you grin.

“okay.”

he blinks. “yeah?”

you nod. “i’ll bring a sign. and confetti. maybe a kazoo.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “jesus. please don’t bring a kazoo.”

you lean forward, eyes bright. “you can’t stop me.”

he rolls his eyes, fighting a smile, and you go back to your doodles like he didn’t just invite you into his world a little bit. like it’s easy. like it means something.

—

the gym is packed. humid and echoey and full of noise.

the bleachers are overflowing. the ref’s whistle shrieks every two minutes. the other team’s fans are booing already, and someone spilled nachos on the court.

and you’re there.

front row. bouncing in your seat. wearing his hoodie—his actual hoodie, which he only lent you as a joke and immediately regretted because you looked so stupidly happy to wear it.

you wave when you see him jog out with his team, hands cupped around your mouth.

“GO SUKUNA! BREAK THEIR LEGS! OR RULES! OR BOTH!”

he snorts. tries not to smile. fails.

his teammates elbow him, whisper stuff, smirk, but he doesn’t care. not when you’re waving that crooked sign you made with sparkly markers and duct tape that says “#1 BASKETBALL MENACE” with what appears to be a drawing of him dunking a goose.

the game itself is rough. fast. brutal.

southfield’s team is good—long-legged and sharp-elbowed and fast on the rebounds—but sukuna’s better. faster. meaner. he scores three baskets in the second half alone. when he shoves past their point guard to land the final shot, the whole gym explodes.

they win by four points.

the whistle blows.

the crowd surges to its feet.

and then—before he can even breathe—you’re there.

you leap over the bleachers like it’s a war zone, stumbling slightly but recovering fast, and run straight to him across the court, absolutely beaming.

“THAT WAS AMAZING,” you shout, grabbing his arm with both hands. “you did that spinny jump thing! and then the swoosh! and then you yelled at the ref—oh my god, that was so hot—”

he blinks down at you, flushed and sweaty and grinning so wide his face might crack.

“you don’t know anything about basketball,” he points out, a little breathless.

you shake your head violently. “nope! not a clue!”

“you just called a layup a ‘spinny jump thing.’”

“yeah! and it was the coolest shit i’ve ever seen!”

he laughs. actually laughs. the sound cracks right out of him—bright and sharp and real. and you’re still holding his arm, squeezing it like it’s the only thing anchoring you.

he hesitates.

then says, quiet, “you wanna come over later?”

you blink. “like. to your dorm?”

“i can… tell you about the game. the rules. what the spinny jump thing’s actually called.”

you light up like he just offered you front-row seats to the moon.

“yes. absolutely. teach me all the ball lore.”

he snorts. “never say that again.”

“no promises.”

and then you’re walking beside him through the crowd, still rambling, still glowing, and he can’t help it—his hand reaches up, gentle and automatic, to push your glasses up your nose where they’ve slid halfway down again.

you blink, startled.

then beam at him.

and he reaches up again—this time to ruffle your hair, fingers combing through the mess like it’s something he’s allowed to touch.

you lean into it without thinking.

and somewhere in the blur of noise and sweat and laughter, he realizes:

you’re his favorite win tonight.

—

his dorm isn’t as much of a mess as you expected.

a little cluttered, yeah—hoodies draped over his desk chair, empty water bottles on the windowsill, a pair of sneakers half-kicked under the bed—but it smells clean. woodsy. like laundry detergent and something sharp underneath that’s just him.

you step inside, slow and curious, still holding the bag of vending machine snacks he insisted you didn’t need to bring.

“so this is the lair of the basketball menace,” you hum, peeking at his bookshelf. “i expected more… chaos. broken trophies. claw marks on the wall.”

he snorts, toeing the door shut behind you. “those are in my evil backup dorm.”

“ah. the one in hell.”

he chuckles, shaking his head, and crosses the room to yank a hoodie off his desk chair and toss it onto his bed. you settle into the chair without waiting for permission, crossing your legs and tearing open a packet of sour candy.

he raises an eyebrow. “that’s my chair.”

you grin. “i’m your guest. this is diplomacy.”

he doesn’t argue—just walks over and sits on the bed instead, close enough that your knees brush against his when he leans forward to grab a bottle of water.

“so,” you say, mouth full of sugar, “tell me the basketball secrets. what was that thing where you jumped like a frog and then spun like a gremlin and then landed like a swan?”

he stares at you.

“…a layup.”

“bless you.”

he huffs a laugh, dropping his head into his hands for a second like he needs to gather strength. “okay. alright. lesson one: do not describe sports like they’re cryptid mating rituals.”

“but that’s my only frame of reference.”

he throws a piece of candy at you. you catch it in your mouth with a triumphant squeak.

“focus,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “basketball. it’s about coordination. spacing. control. and momentum. you don’t just run around like an idiot trying to get the ball in.”

you tilt your head. “so it’s like murder chess. but fast.”

“jesus christ.”

“you’re doing great.”

he glares. but it’s a soft glare, the kind he aims at you more often now. like he’s not really mad. like he doesn’t know how to be.

he shifts on the bed, legs stretching out a little, one knee knocking gently against yours again.

you don’t move away.

“okay,” he says, quieter this time. “you saw when i blocked that guy at the end, right? that’s called a charge. you plant your feet, and if they run into you, it’s a foul on them.”

“ohh,” you nod, thoughtful. “so you baited him.”

“kind of.”

“like psychological warfare.”

he sighs. “sure.”

“can you teach me that?”

he looks up. “what?”

“the foot thing. the standing-your-ground move.” you gesture vaguely with your half-empty candy bag. “i’d like to charge people in my life. for crimes.”

“you’d fall over.”

“not if you believe in me.”

he laughs again—more like a puff of breath this time, shaking his head like he’s trying to hide how fond it sounds.

“i’ll teach you,” he mutters.

you beam.

for a moment, the room goes quiet—soft and buzzing and still. the lights are dim. the windows cracked open. your socked foot nudges against his again, deliberate this time, and he doesn’t pull away.

he watches you—really watches you. the way your glasses have slid halfway down your nose again. the way your hoodie sleeves have swallowed your hands. the way your smile hasn’t left since the moment you walked in.

“you’re happy,” he says quietly.

you blink. glance up at him. “of course i’m happy.”

“…why?”

you look at him like it’s obvious.

“because you invited me.”

he opens his mouth. closes it.

because he’s not used to that answer.

not used to people being happy just to be where he is. not without expecting something back. not without reading into it. not without laughing or pushing or prying.

you twist around in the chair a little, knee brushing his again, closer this time. “also, i got to yell about your legs in public, so. that was cathartic.”

he groans.

you laugh.

and then—softly, almost like you don’t realize you’re doing it—you reach forward. one hand, hesitant, rising to brush at his forehead, where it’s still a little damp with cool sweat. your fingers graze his temple.

“you’re sweaty,” you murmur, nose wrinkling.

he raises an eyebrow. “you ran to me.”

��yeah, because you were dazzling. like a sports anime protagonist.”

he laughs, quiet and helpless.

and then he reaches out, just as softly, and pushes your glasses up again where they’ve started to slip.

your breath catches.

and his hand lingers—just for a second—his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek.

then he pulls away.

you don’t say anything.

you just smile again—smaller this time, softer. and then you fold yourself into the chair, arms wrapped around your knees, and mumble, “i like it here.”

he leans back on his palms, still watching you. cute, his mind screams, as you spin around like a little kid.

—

it starts normal.

as normal as anything gets with you, anyway.

you’re flopped sideways on his bed like you live there, half under his blanket even though you insisted you weren’t cold. the game’s playing on his laptop, volume low, light flickering against the walls. he’s sitting beside you, legs on the floor, back to the edge of the mattress, trying to explain what a pick and roll is without dying of secondhand embarrassment.

you are, predictably, not paying attention.

“what if,” you murmur, chewing on a piece of candy you found in your pocket, “instead of doing basketball, they just kissed in the middle of the court?”

he doesn’t turn around. “they’d get fouled.”

“for passion?”

“for being weird.”

“bold of you to assume that wouldn’t raise morale.”

he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

and then your fingers find his hair.

slow. absent. like you didn’t mean to. like your hand just drifted down from the blanket and landed there, right against the back of his head, where his hair’s still a little messy from earlier.

you comb your fingers through it once. twice.

and then you go still.

he does, too.

his mouth goes dry. his heartbeat spikes.

you’ve touched him before—high fives, shoulder bumps, the flower behind the ear thing, even his hair a bit ago—but this is different. slower. deliberate. intimate.

and worse—you don’t move.

“you okay?” he says, voice too low, too tight.

“…mhm.”

he swears he can hear your smile.

and then, as if that wasn’t enough, you shift. twist around. and lean into him from behind—your chin resting right at the curve of his shoulder, your weight warm against his back, like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

he straightens like he’s been electrocuted.

you don’t even flinch. just murmur, “comfy,” like that explains it.

his whole body’s locked up. tense. pulsing. his brain’s screaming at him to move, to shake you off, to tell you you’re invading his space and messing with his head and ruining him—but—

but you’re so soft.

and warm.

and he can feel your breath against his neck, feel the weight of you slouched against his back like you trust him enough to fall asleep there.

his hands curl into fists.

“…this is illegal,” he mutters.

“mm?” your voice is all syrup.

“this is a crime.”

you hum, noncommittal. “you’re warm.”

he covers his face with both hands. “you’re going to kill me.”

you don’t answer.

and when he turns, just slightly, he realizes—

you’re already asleep.

your face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. your glasses slipping crookedly down your nose. your breathing slow and steady and peaceful, like you didn’t just turn his entire bloodstream into static and curl up on him like a goddamn cat.

he exhales, long and quiet.

his hands hover awkwardly in the air for a second—unsure, unsteady—and then he reaches up and gently adjusts your glasses, sliding them off and placing them on the nightstand with shaking fingers.

then, hesitantly, he leans back into the bed. just a little. just enough so you’re not tilted.

just enough that you stay.

and he stares at the screen, watching the players run back and forth, hearing the echo of your earlier nonsense—

they should kiss for morale.

—and he lets out a breathless, silent laugh.

then slowly, very carefully, he lets his head tilt back against yours.

—

you wake up before he does.

not on purpose.

you’re just used to strange hours and uneven sleep, and the light coming in through his blinds is warm and gold and soft on your face. you shift a little, nose scrunching, and when you register the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, you freeze.

oh.

you’re still curled up on him.

very much wrapped around him.

very much drooling on the shoulder of his hoodie.

you lift your head slowly, blinking blearily. his arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw tilted slightly to the side, his brows a little furrowed even in sleep. like he’s suspicious in his dreams. his hair’s messy again, spiked worse than yesterday, one piece sticking up at an impossible angle.

he looks unfairly good.

annoying.

you shift again, trying not to wake him, and nearly fall backwards off the bed.

his hand shoots out, grabs your wrist without opening his eyes.

“don’t,” he mumbles.

you blink.

“…don’t what?”

“fall off and die. s’too early.”

your mouth twitches.

“oh? you care?” you whisper dramatically.

he grunts. doesn’t answer.

you scoot closer again, pressing your cheek back to his chest with a little huff. “you’re grumpy in the morning.”

“you never shut up,” he mutters.

“mm, false,” you say cheerfully. “i’m just excited to be alive.”

he groans.

you go quiet for a minute. a soft kind of quiet, like the hush after a snowstorm. the game on the laptop has long since ended. the blanket’s mostly fallen to the floor. everything feels slow and syrupy and safe.

you poke his arm.

he doesn’t react.

you poke it again. harder.

“i know you’re awake,” you sing.

no response.

“sukunaaaaa.”

nothing.

“sukunaaa, do you want to hear about my dream?”

his eyes crack open just enough to glare at you. “if it involves centipedes again, i’m leaving the country.”

you gasp. “how dare— it was butterflies this time, thank you very much. and one of them had your face.”

he blinks at you.

“…what the fuck.”

you grin.

he sighs, long-suffering, but there’s the faintest curl of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. like he’s trying to be annoyed. like he wants to be annoyed. but he can’t, not really. not when you’re looking at him like that. like he hung the sun. like this little morning moment matters.

“…hey,” you murmur, suddenly a little shy. “thanks for letting me stay. i didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

he stares at you. your sleep-mussed hair. your socked feet dangling over the side of the bed. the sleepy blush on your cheeks.

he reaches out. flicks you lightly between the eyes.

“you’re annoying,” he says. quiet. fond.

you beam. “you love it.”

he doesn’t answer.

he doesn’t have to.

because a second later, you’re back under the blanket again, leaning into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and he’s letting you, tucking you there with one arm, no complaints, no snide comments.

just soft breathing. and the sound of your heartbeat. and the golden hush of morning.

[imdoingjustgr8]

hey

soooo... how have any fellow td fans been coping recently

meme aside, i got """a bit""" of a vent coming below that no one's obligated to read. and if you do, forgive me if it ends up long asf and kind of all over the place. it was 5 in the morning when i began writing and i just want a place to get all my thoughts out or i won't be able to sleep in peace.

so, here it goes:

td suddenly being taken down out of nowhere and confirmed to be canceled, never to come back was a massive bummer and all, but honestly? i've been taking the news of the official td discord server's impending deletion much harder. don't get me wrong, i do feel really damn bad for outlaik, i just find him dropping td much easier to accept than seeing the first and only big dc community i've ever joined, that encouraged me to post so much sonexe art in the first place, hell, even have made a bit of a name for myself in (literally being known as "the sonexe guy") be sent to oblivion along with it.

to think that i initially only played a random goofy-looking sonic.exe roblox game out of sheer boredom, to think that i initially joined the discord to only make player reports and maybe lurk around. but when i discovered the creations channel, i've ended up checking that very channel almost religiously, posted alot of my own silly drawings, and met so many cool, funny people and amazing fellow artists that have inspired me to this day.

i've only been around for 2 (and a half?) years, so to see everything go down to shit so suddenly was really jarring. i tend to be a really sentimental guy, like "i hoard 1000+ pictures of a sand sculpture i just built in multiple angles" levels of sentimental, so the thought of all those fun interactions and discussions, creative takes and suggestions, and amazing art that i couldn't all save becoming inaccessable to look back on, to become completely wiped out soon has been pretty distressing to me. it doesn't help that most of the artists i've followed on there don't seem to have links or have posted on other platforms.

one of my biggest comforting hopes at the moment is that if anyone else from on there i've interacted with happens to see this and recognize me, artist or not, i'd be really happy to give you a follow! and to those who don't, if i might not see you again for awhile or ever, i wish you well and hope you know you're cool asf. like, i seriously feel very lucky and grateful of how nice and unexpectedly crazy-supportive everyone was, especially with my first ever sonexe post. i really mean it when i said you're all what encouraged me to post without fearing massive judgement and made me feel excited to share my silly doodles and ideas. seriously, thank you all.

also, i feel as if this is something that needs to be said, or atleast said more; i hope that people would learn to be more considerate of outlaik's pov on everything. i seriously doubt anyone would have the motivation to continue a project they wanted to move on from long ago in the first place. getting a copyright claim on his ass, having his acc and dev career at risk, still being constantly interrogated about td's return (bc of ppl making shit up) when he's already done all he could was just the final nail in the coffin for him with the game. i respect him wanting to just quickly move on and i do hope he finds successs, possibly pull even more than what he got from td with current and future projects he can fully enjoy. i'd also have to thank him and his game for bringing us all together in the first place.

ok big sappy rant over. idk how to end this gracefully i just rlly want to go to sleep atp lmao. i've been typing for 4 straight hours kill me rn

good mor-night 😪

[arafilez]

⠀⠀ SIGNIFICANT (B) OTHER ⠀⠀ ✶ ⠀ HJS

情報 ──── you despise han and his picture perfectness, maybe

❪ 𝗖𝗛𝒪𝗥𝗗 ❫ ⠀ ◦ ⠀ han & gn!reader ⠀ ･･･ ⠀ academic rivals ⠀ fluff⠀ 1281 ⠀ ── ⠀ contains⠀ kissing ⠀´ ᵕ ` ⠀ library

You looked around the school locker waiting for your friend to enter. Tapping your feet impatiently you closed your phone throwing it inside as Jongho was late for the nth time. As you turned away from the locker a strong scent of deodorant filled your nose and you hated how you recognized immediately.

Taking a deep breath you clicked your tongue cursing Jongho when you came to face to face with Jisung. A smile plastered to his face, tie perfectly attached to his neck, and proper full sleeves like the best boy.

Except he was not!

You see you hated Han Jisung, okay maybe hate was a strong word. No, you really did hate him. You hated his perfect aura, how he had everyone swooning over him and you hated how much of a model student he was. Always so sweet and sugary with his words that people failed to notice the pure evil residing within him. And you hated how he always beats you at everything.

“Sweetheart, long time no see,” you hear his voice speak to you, which you would admit was rather annoyingly squeaky than melodious.

“Don’t call me that” you grit your teeth looking at him as he smiled sweetly. Was there tension? Yes! Were you willing to give in? Also yes. You rolled your eyes once and left before he could further comment anything. Jisung tries calling you out but you ignore him as you enter the classroom.

As usual, Jongho got scolded for being late to class and he made his way to you after his scolding and sat down. Giving his big gummy smile he offered you a piece of chocolate before withdrawing it seeing your glaring face.

“So someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today,” he said smiling as you gave him a cold stare.

“If someone wasn’t late today I wouldn’t have had to face Mr Asshole,” you gritted your teeth at Jongho who just replied with a shrug.

You looked away from him your eyes directly landing on Han Jisung in the corner bench of first row and your breath got stuck in your throat. There he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you stared back. All until that cocky smirk returned to his face and you looked away silently groaning at yourself.

“Can’t take your eyes off him now huh?” Jongho whispered as you elbowed him slightly.

“I am not staring,” you whispered back.

“Sure, you are not, your eyes just happen to get stuck on Han Jisung,” he giggled as you glared at him for probably the nth time that day.

“Jjong cut it out, I swear, it’s not like his annoyingly handsome face attracts me like all his other fans,” you scoffed looking away.

Jongho snickered saying, “Sweetie I am your best friend, I have heard you muttering his name in your sleep.”

“That was one time,” you hissed at him as he shook his head getting tired of your denials.

“Just admit you like him, where is the harm? Everyone knows you two have a thing for each other, except you two. Well you do, I don’t think he is oblivious,” Jongho sighed as you shook your head and pouted.

You did not like Han Jisung quite possibly. He was the most annoying person ever on the universe, loud- not that you were not loud, you were just equally loud and had squirrel like features with squishy cheeks that you just want to pinch and a cute face which makes you want to kiss his nose that scrunches up when he laughs but such a beautiful figure which was admirable and you knew he was a dancer and his thin waist just makes you want to- and what the hell were you thinking?

No you hated him and where were these thoughts even from, they are so stupid. No, you most definitely hated him. You hated how he beat you at exams, bringing yourself closer to insanity every-time he decides to hang his grade sheet in front of your face, every time he has been over-smart and answered before you in class and every time he has done better and got first just by a single mark.

The school bell rang as Jongho bid you goodbye saying he would be going to meet his seven other friends. You knew them all, all seven boys were really nice and you would hang out often before. But after they all left for college your meets became less regular. Jongho still made time but you couldn’t.

You walked towards the school library which was open for two more hours for studious students. Walking inside you made your way straight to the Physics section searching for a book on Quantum mechanics. You had an inventory project due and quarter of your result depended on it.

The library was fairly empty as you shoes clicked a bit as you scanned through the books in the isle. Suddenly your eyes caught a book in upper shelf- Feynman Lectures Volume One. Blinking your eyes rapidly you questioned when your school library got such a good book.

You were not tall at all and thus you slightly jumped to get it. First try- failed, second try- almost had it, third try- curse the librarian for keeping the book on that shelf.

As you got ready for your fourth try you jumped suddenly at a voice behind you, “How long you going to try short stuff?”

You spun around instantly replying, “Bold of someone to say who isn’t that tall either.”

“Tall enough to reach the book sweetheart,” he smirked leaning over your face and then looking up swiftly took out the book from the shelf.

“Feynman Lectures, how do you even understand it?” he questioned pouting and putting down the book on the table.

“I will at least try unlike your dumb ass,” you bit back your tongue knowing full well it was a lie. He was the smartest student in school and the most studious.

“Really, sweetheart?” he smirked hovering his face over your nose.

“Stop calling me that,” you fumed but it was more of a breathless sentence under his intense stare as you felt yourself getting hot and heartbeat picking up in an instant.

“You are stupidly obvious you idiot, I know very well you like me,” Jisung whispered breath fanning your face as your back hit the bookshelf in shock.

“What? No, you overconfident man, I don’t,” you scoffed lying to his face as he bit back a smile.

Walking towards you he held your hands and said, “Well then fine, I guess I should just stop liking you and get over you, I mean since you don’t like me,” and he smiled, that same cocky smirk that you so much want to wipe off his face.

So you did.

Pulling by his collar you kissed him as he stumbled a little and then kissed back smiling into the kiss. It was soft and rough at the same time as you felt his hand cup your cheeks and lips blend together. You both pulled back after a few seconds, you looking away feeling shy while Jisung rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

“Um, I got your book down,” he whispered looking at the ground as you let out a soft laugh and looked up at him grinning stupidly.

“Well, then, might as well our first date be here,” you said softly, playing with the hems of your skirt as he smiled, saying, “Sure, sweetheart.” “Stop, oh my god,” you whined, knowing full well he won’t—not that you wanted him to, though.

❪ ARA'S ❫ ─── my first ever fic on blr was this and 4th time i reposted it for it being deleted or labelled but yeah 😭.

´ ᵕ ` ⠀⠀ stray kids shelf ⠀navi ⠀,⠀taglist . fill this / comment / ask

@haneagerr @weird-bookworm @yeosayang @aaa-sia

@gong-fourz @seomisaho @peterm4rker @hursheys

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ (ㅤ © arafilez ㅤ)

[praxeus-13]

Wow, what a great Doctor Who episode!!! Immediately one of my favourites ever! There were so many things that I loved, the storytelling aspect and how seamlessly they wove together real world history with the folklore and stories from so many cultures!

Not to mention Jo Martin’s surprise cameo!!!! I gasped when she appeared and I couldn’t be happier that we got both Black Doctors in the same episode! I really hope they just keep bringing Fugitive!Doctor back randomly :)

And! I am always a big fan of those sequences where they flashback to previous Doctors, but it was especially emotional for me seeing 13 with them! That’s my Doctor!!!

Yeah, I liked 15’s first season but this season has been fantastic!!! SO excited for Juno Dawson’s episode next week!!

[applenilune]

Trepidation | one -The file-

SUMMARY~ Three years ago a Colonel from the Deepspace Fleet was murdered by his wife, now, rumors about a mind controlling chip are circulating on the Fleet’s corridors, making the officers feel scared and unsafe. Colonel Caleb is assigned to find out if they are true. But, why is a murder case from three years ago related to rumors about a chip? What does the former Colonel wife knows about that? Can Caleb get to the bottom of the mystery, without getting too close and attached to her?

Pairing~ Caleb x fr

Rating~ M! Explicit!

Warnings for this chapter~ mentions of death, mental illness,blood and suicide.

Tags~ 18+ MDNI, Dead Dove, dark themes, slow burn, eventual smut, trauma, mental illness, slightly gore descriptions, manipulation, murder allegations, conspiracy, stalking (I’ll add more as I think of them)

A/N: HELLO! This is my first fic after Years without writing anything, but the chokehold that Caleb has on me is so strong that I needed to write something for him. I’m a huge fan of thriller/mystery/romance books so that’s why I wanted to write something kinda dark, also, something that I want to mention, English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes that I could have made but I hope it’s still understandable. ALSO, I’m approaching this fic as a “beginning of the toring chip”, so it’s not going to be a 100% accurate depiction of the chip that we saw on the game, but it still will be kinda related. To finish, the female character has no name so in this chapter I put it as y/n but I’m not really sure about it so, maybe I’ll change that later, let me know how you feel about that.

Almost everyone on the fleet knew what had happened with Colonel Davian Vayne, he was young, 27 years old when he died, he was extremely smart and capable of handling the officers on his command, he never hesitated when it came to take hard decisions on his department, all of his work was clean and in perfect order, maybe that’s why he had become colonel at such a young age, everyone knew and liked him, he had the perfectly life, he was wealthy, his parents owned a chain of very fancy and famous restaurants around Skyhaven, and with his status as colonel the money only kept growing, he was elegant and charming, tall and broad, his blonde hair and hazel eyes drew attention from all the woman on the fleet, he was the type of men who everyone respects, who everyone raised their eyes to look at. He seemed to have no flaws.

He was also married, his wife was a real estate agent, not everyone knew her at the fleet, they had only see her a couple of times when one of the fancy dinner parties took place and everyone was encouraged to bring someone along, to make the parties more fun and interesting, who wouldn’t want to know how was the life outside the farspace fleet job? who do you live with? who were you when you weren’t using the uniform?

Colonel Davian’s wife was really a lovely person, said by the few people that met her, the few times she was on one of the fleet’s dinner parties she was always engaged in small talks with everyone learning about her husband’s teammates and their families, talking about her job and her life as a colonel’s wife, she was beautiful, they said, her delicate features, big beautiful eyes, soft skin and long jet black hair made all the people turn to look at her when she entered a room.

They made the perfect couple, what else could you ask from a partner? They were both so painfully perfect.

So, it came as a shock when everyone found out that colonel Davian Vayne had died, or better said, was murdered, by his own wife.

People refused to believe it, there was no way, how could a woman like Y/N Vayne kill her husband on such an horrific way? But she did, there was no doubt about it, she was the only one there with him the night he died, there was no one else’s fingerprints or anything that could lead to believe that someone else did it, that someone had forced their way into their home and attacked him, and when the officers deployed by the fleet arrived at their home and saw her covered in blood they immediately arrested her.

The scene itself was heartbreaking, the living room of the fancy house was dimly lit, decorated on the most elegant furniture, everything remained dark and silent, the lights on the kitchen were the only ones on, the officers approached the area, and saw her, she was out of her mind, on her knees in a corner on the floor of the fancy kitchen crying uncontrollably and screaming in pain with a knife on her hand, she was hurting herself, like she was trying to kill herself too, trying to join her husband, making cuts all over her body, they attempted to calm her down but she was so out of herself that it took them a while to get the knife out of her hands. Her night gown was covered in blood, hers and her husband’s, and everything else in the kitchen was covered in blood too, like if someone had took a bucket full of blood and just splatter it around everything on the kitchen.

The colonel’s body laying lifeless on the floor, also surrounded by an insane amount of blood, his throat had been cut, really deep, it made everyone on the scene felt sick to their stomach.

When she was asked why she did it, she didn’t said anything, she refused to talk with anyone, locking herself inside her own mind, they seemed to have a perfect life, a beautiful dynamic between them, what reason could she possibly had to kill her husband in a really horrible way?

Everyone decided that she was just crazy, something must have snapped on her mind, for her to, all of a sudden, attack her husband and end his life so abruptly, specialists ran a few tests on her, and a few weeks after the murder she was put on trial for killing her husband, Davian Vayne, and condemned to life imprisonment, but since she was declared mentally ill and unstable, they put her on a mental facility, where she would spend the rest of her days.

That had happened three years ago, and even though when it happened it was all that people talked about in the fleet’s office, as time went on, it began to become less and less of a conversation topic. Until almost no one talked about it, until the events even started to morph into something that made no sense at all, no one talked about it anymore, unless someone brought out a memory about colonel Davian Vayne and his work, then all of the stories about the incident were talked on the corridors, people felt sorry about their story and then moved on with their lives.

The world kept moving, besides the lost of a lovable and capable colonel, there was nothing stopping the world from spinning, especially on the fleet, they had a beautiful memorial on his honor and then, that was it.

Since his wife had been convicted and the case had been closed, people just decided to move on, there were other cases, there were other problems, other wars that needed to be fought, other matters that needed to be addressed.

Work at the fleet kept coming so everyone just kinda forgot.

If it didn’t actually happened to anyone in your family or someone close to your heart, then it just became a corridor gossip, and those were never ending too, there was always someone else’s business to discuss, the adjutant did this, the first sergeant messed up the mission, the lieutenant cheated on his wife with the cafeteria girl, half of the battalion died on the deepspace tunnel, the captain was attacked by a wanderer that appeared at his office, etcetera.

People always talked, that was something undeniable. That’s what people do, no matter where you work at.

Recently on the corridors there had been a rumor spreading, people claimed that, there was a chip of some sort, being developed by some technology company that wanted to establish those chips on the fleet, or their officers, to be more exact, to control and keep them on the fleet’s track, wipe their brains clean so that they could write the actions of the employees using the chip, like robots, soulless machines devoted one hundred percent to their job, to make them do what they wanted. To keep the fleet pristine and flawless.

People were starting to get scared, word spreaded like wildfire and it started to affect the fleet’s image, the information wasn’t still out in the public eye, but if they didn’t stop it, it eventually will.

That’s why Caleb was sitting here, in the General’s office. He wanted him to dig deeper, to find out if the claims were true, he had been receiving comments from concerned people who wanted to know if that information was actually true, there was really a chip being created and designed specifically for mind control of the fleet’s employees?

Caleb had become Colonel just a few months after Colonel Vayne had passed away, now, he occupied the place he once had, the General had decided that Caleb was more than well prepared to take the place as the new Colonel, all his skills and knowledge, and all of the experience and decision making he had made on the deepspace tunnel were more than enough to prove that he was perfect for the position, yes, colonel Vayne had died, but they couldn’t leave his place empty, he had died, but the show must go on. The fleet needed to fill the position. And Caleb was the perfect choice. No one had doubts about it.

Caleb was sitting straight, his hands intertwined on his lap, his expression stoic as he listened to the General speaking to him across his desk. He had explained all of the concerns and lies that were being discussed amongst the officers and he thought to himself that it was an stupid rumor with no fundament, but he also understood the way that this could affect the work of the fleet. They wouldn’t want a collective panic surge forming in the minds of the employees. It would make them look weak. And that is the last thing the fleet wants, to look weak.

“As I’m sure you are aware Colonel, we cannot let this situation escalate more, if we let all of this nonsense talking continue, it will affect our performance as a whole. I need you to conduct an investigation about this, I know it’s not really your specific job but, I cannot let a lower range officer take care of this, you have my full trust, your work has been anything but perfect, so all of this, it has to be just between us, I don’t want this to grow bigger until we have full knowledge and control about it. When you’re done with the investigation, you report it directly to me”

“I understand sir, you don't have to worry” Caleb said with a calm demeanor “I will personally take care of it”

The general pushed an e-file pad that was sitting on his desk on Caleb’s direction, he had his hand placed over the file, not wanting Caleb to take it yet, until he had finished talking.

“This is a classified document, the information that resides in these pages is knowledge of a few people, not even you as a colonel, could have access to it, I’m giving it to you because the minute that these comments came into my ears, this file was the first thing that I thought about, I think it could help as a start”

“If you allow me sir,” Caleb said “You really think that this corridor conversations require a deep investigation?”

“People is getting startled, not even me as the fleet’s General had any sort of information regarding any sort of chip, we cannot leave anything to speculation, we need to maintain this corporation afloat, if there is any sort of mind controlling chip I want to know, we need to protect our people”

Caleb nodded, then the General release the folder and pushed further towards Caleb for him to grab it, then took a small piece of paper and wrote down the password Caleb would need to unlock the e-file pad, when Caleb took them, he stood from the chair and prepared to leave.

The General was really committed to his work, he was one of the few people on the fleet that actually cared about the people under his wings, more than the wellbeing and orders of the higher ups, Caleb thought to himself that, that was actually more of a weakness than strength, but he wasn’t the General…yet.

“I’ll start working on it right away sir” he said, as he saluted the general and then turn away to leave his office, when his hand was over the door handle the General said:

“Not a word about this to anyone Colonel, until we know what we’re actually dealing with. You and I are the only ones that know about this, let’s keep it that way.”

Caleb opened the door without responding, since it wasn’t actually necessary, and he stepped outside, this was the most odd request he had received, to him, all this situation made no sense, the officers were focusing on a stupid hallway gossip instead of doing their jobs, but since the General had asked him, he literally had no choice but to dig into it. And he was the best at his job.

Caleb walked expressionless straight to his office, people turned around to salute him, but he didn’t bother to respond or even look at them, when he arrived, he ordered his secretary to not interrupt him under any circumstances, the curiosity about knowing what was in that file that he was just granted access was itching on him, and also, he wanted to be finished with this nonsense as quick as possible, he locked the door behind him, and walked to sit on his chair, he placed the file on the desk and looked at it like hesitating for a second, what was he going to find out inside of it?

He opened the file, and when it asked him, he introduced the password the General had provided him to unlock the e-file pad. It opened, what it said on the first page on bold letters made him furrow his brows. What does this case had to do with the rumors about the chip? It made no sense, why was the General giving him this file?

FARSPACE FLEET INVESTIGATION BUREAU

CASE 00MI1608

RESTRICTED ACCESS

PLEASE RETURN THIS FILE IF YOU ARE ON LEVEL 08 OR BELOW

YOU WILL BE PROSECUTED

ASSASSINATION OF COLONEL DAVIAN VAYNE

AUGUST 2045

The murder of colonel Davian? He was killed three years ago, what his murder file had to do with a fucking mind controlling chip? He relaxed a little bit on the chair, the general had given this to him for a reason. He started reading the file to find out why.

The file had a lot of pages, this specific case was handled by the fleet itself because the victim was a high rank officer, Caleb was fixated on the information from minute one, it was like reading a suspense, thriller novel, everything was so intriguing to him.

The firsts pages of the file were about the night the murder had taken place, as it said, it was a quiet summer night, the Vayne’s were at home and all of the sudden something has snapped up in his wife, the investigators wrote that they were probably arguing about something in the kitchen, when Y/N Vayne suddenly decided that she had enough. Took one of the expensive chef knives that laid on the kitchen island and cut her husband’s throat.

Caleb moved onto the next pages, there were pictures of the crime scene, it was kinda like what the stories around the fleet were told, Davian was on the floor, his throat had been cut so deep that you could see the muscles tore open, the floor was so covered in blood that it was like if someone had moped it with a bucket full of blood.

Caleb was desensitized of watching this types of scenes, no one with a high position on the fleet wasn’t accustomed to this sort of stuff, you had to handle the hard situations, so he didn’t even flinch at the images.

The next few pages were images of Mrs. Vayne’s body, she had apparently been tryin to end her life too, there were cuts made by herself all over her body, her arms, legs, neck, stomach, almost everywhere. She wasn’t successful in her attempts of course but Caleb thought that that was a strange way of trying to kill yourself.

He continued reading the file.

After the colonel’s autopsy, there were physical and psychiatric tests that were conducted on his wife.

The doctors wrote that she refused to talk to anyone for almost a week, it was like she was in some kind of mental lockdown, almost like she refused to believe that this was her new reality. That she had killed her husband.

They had her arrested on the hospital, hands cuffed into the bed, but somehow when she was not being watched she broke free from the restraints and began hurting herself again, when the officers, nurses and doctors entered the room, she was again covered in blood, she was on a frenzy, she had a deep wound in the back of her neck, arms and legs, she had also bitten herself really hard, they searched the room, looking for whatever weapon she had used to do that to herself, but they found nothing.

After that incident she calmed down, it seemed like she had just waken up from a long dream or a coma, or so they thought because now, when she started to speak again, she began talking about how someone had been tracking her down, someone had been following her and watching her, and she also said that someone had implanted a chip on her body, and against her will, they made her kill her husband.

She had no full memory of the night it actually happened, only flashes of memories, she couldn’t explain what had driven her so numb or mad that she murdered her husband so brutally, but she kept repeating that this was not entirely her fault. That they needed to investigate further, that they needed to find out who had done that to her to find out who the real culprit was, but there was no evidence to back up any of those allegations. It was all her doing. And she was saying that only to escape the sentence.

Caleb had to read that again, She said someone had been watching her, put a chip on her body and were controlling her actions. Whoever did that to her, made her kill the colonel, her husband.

A chip.

A controlling chip.

Caleb had to stop for a moment, analyzing the situation, this was why the General had told him that it might be related to the chip rumors happening now. It made him feel, amused, desperate, desperate to know the truth, eager, excited, almost.

He didn’t like not having the full story but…He liked challenges, they were too…enticing. And mysteries, he liked those, and Y/N Vayne was buried in mystery so deep that he wanted to dig her up.

The rest of the file were the prosecutors notes, the case they built against her, so that they could give her a sentence, thanks to the test ran by the psychiatrist’s they had decided to put her on a mental facility, she was obviously sick on her brain, she was out of her mind. She just talked nonsense, right? It was all nonsense? Now he wasn’t so sure.

He knew what he had to do first, to get to the bottom of this entire situation.

He had to talk to her.

[fushiglow]

I feel like I live in here geeking about music, and I want to nervously apologise but I won't this time.

Thanks to living in the furture I've heard the new Sleep Token album, and I'm having OTT thoughts with the song 'Past Self'. I was curious about your thoughts on it.

And honestly you have this love of music that I see in OTT and I can't help but want to ask you about it.

Anyway, I hope you feel less burned out soon Glo <3

Sending this when you knew I physically couldn't listen for many more hours was cruel. Jokes on you, I'm into that 🫵

Having given the album a full listen a number of times now, I think we may as well go on the whole Even In Arcadia journey in relation to Over the Threshold, and I'll share some more general thoughts about the album after that in case you're interested.

I hope you enjoy this, because I truly am the strongest yapper!

Sugar

First, a recap. For anyone who doesn't know, the Sleep Token associations with Over the Threshold were a happy accident. Shortly after I published chapter 6 in January 2024, someone left a comment saying that Satoru's song in the fic, Sugar, reminded them of Sleep Token's Sugar. I had never even heard of Sleep Token at the time, and when I listened, my first thought was, "Yeah, Satoru's music definitely sounds nothing like this."

However, the lyrics certainly spoke not only to Satoru's cheeky song, but to the fic in general. Games (little and big) are a recurrent theme in Over the Threshold, so it's not just "Sugar, I've developed a taste for you", but also "You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game".

It was mentioned by readers quite a few more times over the months that followed, but I didn't think about it much more until I decided to develop Satoru's Sugar further in chapter 11. When I first introduced the song to the fic, I wasn't intending it to play such a big role in the story. It was simply supposed to be the "fun" second single sandwiched between the two more meaningful songs. However, Sugar took on a life of its own, at least in part due to the reader response to the song.

That's the most special thing about this fic. For a story that is so much about the dialogue between artist and audience, but also about the suffocation of creativity and the suppression of authentic artistic expression in a consumer driven music industry, being able to respond to reader reactions within the story itself is such a gift.

From the theorising about the photos in the parking garage to "sugar ooh" becoming a commonplace substitute for Suguru among Over the Threshold readers, as though people actually heard that catchy hook, you guys have more control of this story than you perhaps realise — and that is so deliciously meta. It's what Suguru describes in chapter 5:

An artist’s relationship with the public was a precarious, fickle thing, [...] their power [only] proportional to the people’s belief in them.

I feel exactly like Satoru and his team, identifying the fan favourite that emerges and giving it prized place in the encore to close out the show. The readers brought Sugar into focus in this story, which brings us back to Sleep Token, because the readers brought that Sugar into focus, too. It became the "theme song" for Dolce, because it grew into the fabric of Satoru's character for me via the readers.

Neither Dolce nor A Cappella would even exist if I didn't have such a wonderful readerbase willing to engage with me at this level, and I'm truly thankful for that. This story has grown beyond anything I originally set out to do, and it's all the more meaningful for it.

Caramel

Perhaps it's surprising to hear that I see Sugar as a song performed from Satoru's POV, along with its spiritual successor, Caramel, which became the "theme song" for Dolce's spiritual successor, A Cappella, in turn.

For anyone who's interested in getting a peek into Satoru's head in this fic, Caramel is your song. It really sums up the core conflict that this story explores, as well as Satoru and Suguru's opposing ideologies pushing up against one another. Suguru has a strong presence in the song. He's the "They can sing the words while I cry into the bassline" to Satoru's "I just wanna hear you sing that top line". He's the "mirror side-stage" that grounds Satoru, but also reflects back at him all the horrors of his role that he's never really confronted before.

In the end, Caramel sums up his quiet acceptance of the chaos of his chosen lifestyle, but only after exploring all the emotion that simmers beneath that perfect smile as he's pulled in different directions by his love of the performance, by the secret strain of the spotlight, by his love for Suguru, and by his fear of everything that threatens to reduce sweet sugar to burnt caramel at the bottom of the pan. There is such desperation in "Stick to me like caramel." I can't not hear it as chapter 13's "Can you hold on just a little bit longer?" while Satoru attempts to handle everything on his own. He wants to have his cake and eat it. Can he?

Of course, Sugar is less explicitly related to the themes of the wider story, but the release of Caramel has retroactively given the song a weight that supports this specific story in such beautiful ways. I never could have foreseen these serendipitous circumstances (I actually could, I'm Glod) but Sleep Token keep delivering for me.

There was Sugar, then Caramel, then Damocles which we've already discussed. Now, the release of Even In Arcadia brings three more songs that slot into this story, leaving us with five songs written specifically for fushiglow. Incredible scenes.

Past Self

The first, as you say, is Past Self. We've got games again, and the idea of dancing on the line which has come up a few times throughout the fic, but lyrically, this song is wildly fitting to Over the Threshold at a much deeper level. It's almost getting creepy at this point. First of all:

And you know I deliberate on cutting out the demons I still need a dark side, they just need a reason The passage of the hours into rushing through the seasons Falling through my mind with the leaves on the trees

Anyone else having chapter 12/13 war flashbacks? Changing seasons and falling leaves? Alright then!

Other stand out lines include "bolts out of my blue depths" (sobs), "did I get this far for nothing, or are you the reward?" (sobs harder), and "torn apart by the true believers that turned out to be faithless". Good lord, the themes are really theming.

However, the bridge section is such a departure from the rest of the song that I think puts Sleep Token's musical choices here into context:

And if this is love, then I am out of hesitation Head over heels at elevation Walking an inch above the pavement Taking it stride by stride together If this is real, then I am all up in a frenzy Not like before when I was empty Say that the story we tell is never-ending Taking it side by side together

It reminds me of the momentous turning point of chapter 8:

The gravity of it was startling. Yet Suguru felt buoyed by it, weightless on the current of Satoru’s faith in him — because no one had ever really believed in Suguru like that before. The feeling of it coursing around his bloodstream was potent and exciting, the way all drugs felt on the first try. It made his grin feel a little manic.

The whole song feels like taking a leap of faith, but in the context of the album, the unexpected sonic shift to upbeat hip hop rhythms and instrumentation is unsettling for the listener. The song bounces along in a way that feels like it might teeter off the edge at any time.

It even feels pretty unstable harmonically, like it's missing its centre. During the aforementioned bridge, it feels like we come close to reaching some kind of satisfying harmonic resolution for the final chorus, but ultimately the outcome of this leap of faith is withheld from the listener. It's smart writing. I really appreciate the intention behind this one!

Dangerous

Next up is Dangerous. Listening to the first 1:30 of this song felt like taking a bath in milk and honey — delectable but dangerous. More like scaphism than a spa treatment. I'm being silly.

But seriously, the gorgeous vocals cushioned by the reverberant pluck of guitar strings in the opening to the song are one of my favourite parts of the album overall. Nothing smart to say about this one though. It's just very reminiscent of Suguru trying to resist the dangerous addiction that is Satoru.

Infinite Baths

Even if I'm not head over heels in love with this song in its own right, as an Over the Threshold song, it is incredibly special. Enough to make me cry. In fact, in the context of the fic, it might be my favourite of all of them. [EDIT: No, I take it back. It's Damocles. Or Caramel. I don't know.]

But I'm not going to talk about it. Maybe we'll come back to it one day. For now, interpret this as you wish. Is it the balmy peace of the first half of the song or the violent supernova of the second that speaks to me? Hm.

I think the fact that I've chosen to focus on spiritual and celestial imagery with idols and stars in Over the Threshold — the idea of worshipping a concept that's bigger than reality — is a huge part of the reason Sleep Token's recent music resonates with the story.

I'm not familiar with the lore, but my hunch is that when they conceived of Sleep and Vessel and tokens of worship, they weren't thinking about celebrity, but those recurring themes have inadvertently played right into their experience of fame and thus make an appearance in a big way on Even In Arcadia.

Hooray for fushiglow and Over the Threshold, boo for the Sleep Token guys and the difficulties they've been facing. Fame sucks.

General review

As I've alluded to, most of my enjoyment of this album definitely stems from my own selfish application of its themes to Over the Threshold. However, in case you're interested, I'll also share some more general thoughts, because I personally think it's fascinating that looking at this album through the lens of my story vs in its own right changes my perception of it rather a lot.

I like music that's deliberate in its choices, regardless of genre. I like music that tells a story in its composition and arrangement and production, not only in its lyrical content. If all of those things marry together and support one another, that's great songwriting. For me, Even In Arcadia meets that criteria around half the time.

My biggest criticism of the record is that it feels hesitant in places, like the band lacks commitment to their ideas. There's so much experimentation with genre on this album and the experimental moments are what made me sit up and pay attention — the bold use of a reggaeton beat on Caramel; the unexpected sidestep into math rock on Gethsemane; just the whole journey through genre that is Emergence — but it feels like Sleep Token are held back by a reluctance to depart from their roots.

The gentle build to a breakdown where the drums and guitars come screaming in sometimes feels formulaic, like they're going through the motions expected of them as a 'rock band'. On a couple of occasions, the pivot to a heavier sound mid-track felt to me (to use an Over the Threshold-ism) like it limited the song from reaching the heights it was aiming for.

I think that's a shame, but also understandable, especially since this is their first release on a major label which comes with ALL sorts of politics. I even think that fear of the audience moving on is expressed in the lyrical content, especially in Damocles which, interestingly enough, shows a restraint on that front which is exactly the kind of musical storytelling I described earlier.

Some tracks feel out of place, like they don't quite belong to the concept. For me, the singles are definitely the high points of the album, alongside Look to Windward and Even In Arcadia. Even In Arcadia is a rich and immersive soundscape that delivers all the spiritualism of the lyrics with a vocal performance to back it up. That hoarse screamed last line that feels like it's reaching outside of the song followed by the soft "for me" evokes something larger than life; I think this song will be amazing live.

Meanwhile, Look to Windward is such a strong opener. It sets the tone really well, even if I don't think the tracks that follow always deliver on its promises. I love the Hans Zimmer-esque chords; it's very reminiscent of Holy War from Dune. Really strong melodic and lyrical content over the top of them, too, and I love the development into the plucked strings and vocalisations. This song is constantly growing and developing, exploring new ideas before returning to the original subject. It's a very complete and satisfying listening experience, which (I think) describes to the listener the journey the album will (attempt to) take them on.

I feel like Infinite Baths didn't quite deliver on that return to the original subject. The circular nature of the album (it closes with the same chord and rhythm combination it opens with) is undermined by the way it kind of fizzles out at the end. We land back where we started, but it feels like an accident rather than a deliberate choice. I wonder why they chose a fade out. Is this what they meant by "drift with me" (such a drastic departure from the rest of the song and easily my favourite part)?

So, most of the tracks on Even In Arcadia probably aren't going to find their way into my regular listening, but I enjoyed it overall. I do love a good concept album, and I admire Sleep Token's dedication to their artistry and the elaborate performance of it all. I also think that the more ambitious an artist is, the more critical we tend to be of them, and that doesn't feel fair.

Still, the higher you climb, the harder you fall. It seems fitting to the themes of this album, so maybe it achieved its aims.

Good god, I hope this was enjoyable to someone. Congratulations if you got to the bottom of this post! If you did, let's make a secret club. Only people who leave a reply containing 🌭 are part of it. Welcome to the hot dog club. (?!)

Thanks for another opportunity to yap, it means a lot. I love talking about music and I love talking about this story ♥

[imnez-daydreams]

mango in the building w more sammy who cheered !!

"his sleeves were pushed up, as usual, hands on his hips as he glanced around your mess of a flat. the stance should’ve been criminal, black tee clinging to his flexed biceps. he brought a hand up, dragged it over the lower part of his face. this place was going to be a nightmare to get put back together."

this image already has me fanning myselfff. pushed up sleeves of a tight black tee, hands on hips, biceps flexing as sammy brings his hand to his face (need to him put me in a chokehold).

"no?" he asked, shifting to weasel into your line of sight, coaxing your gaze back to his with a quiet, calculated shift. he knew exactly where you’d look, just to avoid him, and met you there anyway.

GAWDDDDDDD PLEASEEEEE i literally went "ohmygod" in my head reading that. the teasing "no?" and moving to keep himself in our eyesight. him already knowing we're gonna avoid it, already taking notes on our shy nature. need him and his forced eye contact.

"he huffed an amused breath, and did that thing with his mouth. the thing where his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, like he was holding back a laugh or a comment that would’ve knocked the wind out of you."

stop this man !!! stop the visuals popping up in my head !!! sammy's so hot n for what aaaa !!!

"good." the word caught as if he almost followed it up with something else. "....good. you know where to find me," he hummed, striding to the door and dangerously close to you along the way, hand reaching up to land a friendly thumping pat on your arm as he breezed by.

HELLOOOOO ?? MANGO YOU CANT DO THIS TO MEEEE. sammy was going to say good girl. he was going to say good girl to reader. sammy was going to call reader a good girl for listening to him. im melting.

"he stood there, in all of his stocky, 5'9, "bodyslammed people for a living" glory, dressed in his day-off uniform: police academy tee (which his biceps and pecs had filled out nicely in his years on the force. not that you were staring at his chest. that'd be weird), and loose gray sweats that sat low on his hips, and somehow, despite their bagginess, still showed a dick print."

frothing at the mouth. GREY !! SWEATS !! BAGGY GREY SWEATS THAT STILL SHOW THE PRINT !!

"you've got to be kidding," he said, pivoting towards your kitchen. "how did you—... jesus. you peel and stick tile'd your kitchen pink before getting a first aid kit?"

LOLLLL reader is so real n so me.

"you should feel bad lying to a cop," he chided, before reaching out to grab your chin without warning. he tilted your head to the side, standing over you and inspecting your cut with a little tsk. your brain immediately blue-screened. what the fuck.

HELP MEE omgomgomgomg. the image of him standing over us, looking down at us, grabbing our chin and the "tsk" aiehdidjeodke.

he seemed to realize at the moment you did, because he shifted. dropped into a crouch with a slight grunt. you thought it might’ve been to spare you, but it made it worse, somehow. now you were level. now his eyes were all you could see. keen, but warm. he started dabbing at the cut, mumbling a little "i know, i know," when you flinched at the feeling.

eye contact. eye contact with sammy. eye contact with sammy as he says "i know, i know" while pushing into you the first time and you whine at how big he is and and and *gunshots* *sirens*

"yeah, i know, chickadee. that’s what happens. what are you gonna do next time you needed help building furniture?" he asked, tone halfway to lecturing.

im going fkn feral. MANGO. CHICKADEE ?? chickadee ????? sammy is so. he's so daddy. (maybe even dad what who said that)

each word was its own sentence, his words light but insistent, and he didn’t drop your chin until you nodded (which it took the longest seven seconds of your life to realize he was waiting on).

gawd please. sammy following your eyeline to keep eye contact when you shy away. sammy not letting go of your chin until you nod. he has such casual dominance energy i cant.

"and when he leaned back just slightly to inspect it, head tilted, tongue poking into his cheek like he was weighing whether to say something that would’ve fast-tracked you to cardiac arrest, you didn’t even care how mortifying this entire experience had been."

these visuals make my brain go BRRRRR.

"no ER's today," he hummed proudly, his arm shooting out to ruffle your hair on the far side of your head from the wound. his rough hand curved against your head, teasing and playful, like you were crafted by the heavens themselves to fit into his palm.

fuck MEEEEE i need sammy so bad. ruffling our hair ??????? almost letting "good girl" slip out ???? calling us "chickadee" ???? he's so. sammy is such a dad. need to give him babies so bad. and maybe call him dad too.

mango and shea yall have ruined my brain in the best way possible. this was sooooo delicious i need sammy so bad RAHHHH. i lovedd all the descriptions of what sammy was doing, flowed easily in my brain (n made my heart boom boom). and i love their dialogue !! seems so casual and grounded. thank you mango for writing more sammy muakss <33 !!!

‎ . ݁⋆ 𐙚 sammy bryant + shy new girl next door 𐙚 ݁˖ . ݁

(chap. 2: or, blunt force trauma and puppylove. wc: 2731)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 a/n: hi babies! first meeting out of the way, fawngirl and sammy move into their second meeting (cute) and third meeting (less adorable circumstances and involving a head wound). as always, please spam me with any thoughts you have about sammy or ideas for ficlets to add to the series! this is only my fourth piece i've written to be posted so i'm sorry if it reads weird. and it's so self indulgent and unrealistic so sorry in advance!!

sammy was a piece of shit. he knew that. his colleagues never failed to half-jokingly let him know, and tammi not-at-all jokingly reminded him every time they spoke. and it never bothered him. he never internalized it.

but, somehow, after his first encounter with the new little deer in the wild, sprawled at his feet and speaking in mumbled one-word responses, he finally understood what ben and nate and dewey and tammi meant. it wasn’t the predominant feeling, but boy, it was there.

the aforementioned predominant feeling could best be described as something horny dressed in a pride-shaped trench coat. a little smugness, a little heat, everything barely tame enough to do under the guise of being a helpful neighbour. but, underneath that, lurked a whole lot of what the fuck is wrong with me.

because as sammy stood there, feeling more macho than any recent day on patrol ever made him, picking up your scuffed and dog-eared copies of "the art of french pastry" and "tartine," he already felt something festering in his stomach. or, maybe his dick. your voice as you mumbled a "yessir" when he offered to help, the fawnlike, endearing clumsiness as you gathered your bag and followed him to your flat.

sammy was deeply, truly an awful man, and for the first time, he felt actual, internal conflict. he shouldn’t have been thinking the things he did about you, and knowing how gross he was shouldn’t have felt so good.

the second time sammy saw you, you were balancing a couple of ikea boxes in your arms. you didn’t even notice him, what with the cardboard obstructing your view. he just lingered in the doorway of 310.

it wasn’t weird, he told himself. it was just... funny, watching you try to balance the teetering boxes of god knows what (he didn’t read swedish), one step away from a pratfall. you got to your front doorway, looked at the doorknob, then down at yourself, then back up to the doorknob. and, god, it was adorable.

you stood there, staring at the door, not wanting to let the boxes topple from your arms if you let go. sammy stepped into the hallway, content with his fill of watching you from the shadows. his hand came up automatically, fingers ghosting along the top edge of your cardboard tower. not to take it, just to steady it, for the inevitable startle you’d give when you realized he had materialized by your side.

he was right.

as soon as you realized there was a person on the other side of your mountain of stuff, you spooked like a calf and the top box slipped. the container of metal café chair parts dropped to the floor with a clatter, and you let out a high, frazzled noise that may have been fuck, sorry, or both at once.

“s’all right,” he said, voice low, and gentle, tossing your door open and bending down to pluck up the chair. he held it in one arm, took the other from you, and ignored your breathless, half-almost-maybe-a protest. by that point he was already in your living room, dropping the boxes to the ground with a thud.

"jesus. can't even see the floor over there. you gonna unpack at some point?" he quipped, turning to you. you just stood in the doorway, a little thrown off and a lot embarrassed, socked toes curling against the hardwood like they could dig you a way out.

his sleeves were pushed up, as usual, hands on his hips as he glanced around your mess of a flat. the stance should’ve been criminal, black tee clinging to his flexed biceps. he brought a hand up, dragged it over the lower part of his face. this place was going to be a nightmare to get put back together.

"you need any help un--"

"no. no, it's good, i got it," you cut him off, an embarrassed type of curt, before he could even get his words out.

"no?" he asked, shifting to weasel into your line of sight, coaxing your gaze back to his with a quiet, calculated shift. he knew exactly where you’d look, just to avoid him, and met you there anyway.

"positive. very... yes. yeah. you can...." you fumbled, tapering off as you realized how rude your words nearly were. you can go? to the man that had stepped in to save you twice since last night?

he huffed an amused breath, and did that thing with his mouth. the thing where his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, like he was holding back a laugh or a comment that would’ve knocked the wind out of you.

"um."

"i'm not tryna be rude," he started, voice soft, but laced with dry amusement, like he was choosing his words carefully. "just... knock when you decide you wanted help."

when. not if.

your eye twitched. funny guy, you thought flatly to yourself, though your pulse sounded like a buddy rich solo rip on the drums.

"yes, um.... yessir, i... will. i will." you blinked, hard, and gave a jerky nod. cervine, like a deer in headlights. unsure of where to go, what to look at, if to bolt.

his smile wasn’t big, but god, it was devastating. crooked teeth barely showing through the smirk, eyes teasing as he bit back whatever comment had been dancing on his tongue.

"good." the word caught as if he almost followed it up with something else. "....good. you know where to find me," he hummed, striding to the door and dangerously close to you along the way, hand reaching up to land a friendly thumping pat on your arm as he breezed by.

you waited until his door across the hallway thudded shut to close your own, before sliding down against it and into a swooning little puddle on the vinyl floors. you were pretty sure you could fry an egg on your face at this point.

this was going to be an issue.

fuck the swedes.

whichever one of them had decided to make furniture assembly this much of a torture ritual needed to be taken out, JFK style.

had you maybe gone into this a bit overconfident? sure. but sticking together particle wood and some screws and pegs, objectively, shouldn’t even have been that hard.

it wasn't a house. you weren't disassembling an IED. power tools weren't even involved. but somehow, some european had managed to make the process about as intuitive as open heart surgery and with instructions less clear than the hieroglyphs.

with screw packet H sort of, mostly tightened into the wood, and maybe seventy-five percent of the bookcase upright, you were feeling confident. confident enough that you let your hand rest on it. not hard, with almost no weight behind the movement.

and then the shelf groaned.

and you blinked.

and then the entire thing tipped with the same final-moment theatrics of the titanic sinking directly onto where you'd backed up at the noise.

the crash was biblical. so much so that, in the stunned few moments after your two hours of work had become a half-busted pile on the floor, you didn't care that it had clipped you in the head on the way down.

and then, three seconds after the giga-impact, your temple started smarting. bad. it throbbed, and when you reached up to tenderly prod at it, your hand came back with wet redness on the pads of your fingers.

oh, this was awesome.

you just stood there, eyes trained on the ruins of your efforts across the living room floor. moving would mean you had to start over. maybe, you thought, if you stared at it really, really hard, it'd fix itself and get you a bandaid. your eyes started to water, and you were unsure if at your throbbing hairline or the waste of your afternoon.

and then, a few heavy knocks came on your door.

"christ, kid. did your ceiling come down?" a voice called through your door. mr. bryant.

oh, of course, the gorgeous hunk you went to bed last night with images in your head of had heard.

you didn't move. no answer, not at first.

"hey. hey, c'mon." another harder knock, less teasing and more "ready to kick the door down like he did on the clock." the doorknob jiggled a bit. you grumbled something about waiting for a second, pattering over pitifully and flipping the deadbolt.

the door cracked open just enough for your face to peek through. blood carving a line down your cheek from above your temple, watery eyes a contrast to the frustrated, completely over-it look on your face. sammy’s expression shifted. jaw tense, brow pulled in, some dark mix of concern and defensiveness.

because with you stood there, pissed as all get out but hurt and upset underneath the frustration, he knew he'd been right. and he knew you knew he'd been right. sammy just couldn't stop swooping in to pick up after your messes.

the universe had known you needed someone to watch out for you, he rationalized in that moment, looking down with all the pity he could muster. the injury was superficial. and, with his worry subsiding a bit, that recognition of how good it felt to be such a disgusting man was stalking up behind him, salivating and hungry.

"what'd i tell you about needin' my help, huh?" he grilled lightly, not waiting for an invitation and pushing the door open enough to step in before closing it behind him.

god. fuck. you were alone, in your flat, door shut, with mr. officer bryant from 310.

he stood there, in all of his stocky, 5'9, "bodyslammed people for a living" glory, dressed in his day-off uniform: police academy tee (which his biceps and pecs had filled out nicely in his years on the force. not that you were staring at his chest. that'd be weird), and loose gray sweats that sat low on his hips, and somehow, despite their bagginess, still showed a dick print.

maybe the shelf should've killed you.

"siddown," he insisted, pointing to the off-white couch and turning to stride to the bathroom. "where's your first aid kit?"

"oh, um, i... um, i don't... have one." you gingerly wiped at the blood that had streamed down to your cheek. yuck.

almost out of the living room, he stopped, and turned to you with an exasperated look. mouth slightly open, eyebrows knit and the eleven-lines of his forehead pronounced.

"you've got to be kidding," he said, pivoting towards your kitchen. "how did you—... jesus. you peel and stick tile'd your kitchen pink before getting a first aid kit?"

he said that like it was irrational, or something.

you watched through the pass-through between your kitchen and living room as he yanked off a few paper towels and wet them, before looking down at your lap. the domesticity of this entire fiasco had hit you square in the solar plexus.

"i don't get hurt much," you mumbled at your legs. he snorted. short and mean and fond.

the faucet clicked off, and then he was pacing back in, heavy steps softening as they reached the persian rug your sofa sat upon.

"you should feel bad lying to a cop," he chided, before reaching out to grab your chin without warning. he tilted your head to the side, standing over you and inspecting your cut with a little tsk. your brain immediately blue-screened. what the fuck.

"hold still."

his frame towered over your sitting one, broad shoulders boxing you in, and your eyes shot upward. directly into the lap of his sweats, the gray fabric hanging low and loose. this could not be happening.

he seemed to realize at the moment you did, because he shifted. dropped into a crouch with a slight grunt. you thought it might’ve been to spare you, but it made it worse, somehow. now you were level. now his eyes were all you could see. keen, but warm. he started dabbing at the cut, mumbling a little "i know, i know," when you flinched at the feeling.

you sat in silence as he applied pressure to the cut. your skin stinging under the damp towel. his thumb came up to graze the edge of the split, after a few heavily silent minutes, slow and careful, just enough pressure to pull the skin taut and get a better look. the pad of his pointer brushed against the raw, broken edge of the wound, and you hissed, shoulders flinching.

"yeah, i know, chickadee. that’s what happens. what are you gonna do next time you needed help building furniture?" he asked, tone halfway to lecturing.

you could feel your pulse beating in your head, eyes falling onto a throw pillow as he held your head to the side. "um. not... screw up the instructions?" you muttered, to which he sighed through his nose affectionately like that was the dumbest thing he’d heard.

he turned your chin so you were facing him, and he leaned in ever so slightly. his brows were raised, like he could not believe he was having to go through the motions of saying this. at this distance you could probably count every little scrape and scar on his face.

"you come. get. me. capisce?"

each word was its own sentence, his words light but insistent, and he didn’t drop your chin until you nodded (which it took the longest seven seconds of your life to realize he was waiting on).

"...'kay," you hummed, looking back down. anywhere but his eyes. and when he pushed up from his crouch and made for your door, you were almost (as embarrassing an admission as it was) dejected. he was leaving already?

"sit there. i'm getting a butterfly bandage so your forehead doesn't scar to shit. don't go anywhere." and you, suddenly some type of housebroken, perked up and nodded. thank fuck his back was already to you at that point. you sat, thumbs fidgeting in your lap, until he returned in under a minute.

"shocking," he said, crouching back in front of you, "that you managed to not break a bone sitting here." his hands tugged at the wrapper of the bandage.

you huffed, trying to play off the scene unfolding right now as casual, neighbourly banter. anything to pretend your heart wasn’t about to beat out of your chest, that you weren’t going to be dreaming about this man in the full throes of puppylove for weeks after this.

his fingers brushed your temple, featherlight but certain, and it sent a stupid little shiver down your spine you hoped he didn’t notice. the pads of his thumbs were warm, careful, pinching the skin on either side of the cut with more tenderness than someone like him ought to have. you blinked, and he was already pressing the steri-strip into place. centered, clean, like he actually cared if it scarred.

and when he leaned back just slightly to inspect it, head tilted, tongue poking into his cheek like he was weighing whether to say something that would’ve fast-tracked you to cardiac arrest, you didn’t even care how mortifying this entire experience had been. you didn’t care that your skin was burning hot, that the past two days had thrust you into more confusing, blurred-line conversation than you'd ever had before.

the universe had given you to him in open palms, it seemed. pointed you out to sammy knowing that he was stumbling into a life sentence. "this one," it hummed, "will be yours." the soft spot he had grown not even two days before had suddenly become a spot in the same way jupiter's was— a cataclysmic, raging storm, with enough force to shake the cosmos. the tumultuous, conflicted needs to make you safe, gently, and make you his, by far less gentle means.

he pulled back, giving the bandage a final once-over before nodding curtly.

"no ER's today," he hummed proudly, his arm shooting out to ruffle your hair on the far side of your head from the wound. his rough hand curved against your head, teasing and playful, like you were crafted by the heavens themselves to fit into his palm.

sammy agreed with the universe. you, he'd decided, were going to be his.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 a/n contd: ah! i hope you liked it! i'm supposed to move home for the summer in 5 hours and i literally haven't started packing or cleaning. oopsies.

i know the header/name setup is a bit cheesy but i am doing it anyways. if there are typos or weird sections in here please let me live in ignorant bliss. i wrote most of this procrastinating my packing in a craze fueled by the nectar of the gods (baja blast) and the fruit of the garden of eden (nacho fries) and quite frankly have very little interest in correcting how much of a mess this chapter is. yes i know this situation is entirely unrealistic. if there is one thing mango loves it is self indulgent slight-whump with an age gap.

love u guys byeee!

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 18: Balls (Bullet Train)

Sometimes (oftentimes) it's true that all you need are Balls. I personally absolutely love Balls. I'm a big fan! Ekhem. Today I'm using the help of (I mean, copying most of the passages from it) my earlier Balls rant that I have written down after my first listen of it back in January. I really love this album and I don't want to completely skip over saying a couple words on it at least but I really don't think I have the headspace to write anything very good for it today. I'll still try though!

So yeah, Balls. It's a great album, fun and chill (in my sense of what I call and consider chill anyway), consistent, as Sparks albums tend to be, and as I suspected / hoped it does fit this specific vibe of driving around at night somewhere city-like and illuminated. Or being on a train deep at night and looking at the world zooming by (if you'd even see much of it on a train at night anyway.....). And I do think that it's not so dissimilar to Gratsax (I'd say now that it's definitely darker and moodier than its predecessor...). So it's interesting to think about how it's considered to be one of the "weak" ones (by music reviewers at least) while Gratsax is so beloved in comparision.

I will admit, I don't really know what the big problem with this album could be. As I said, it's fun, it has the melodies, it has the energy, it has the theatricality (I like seeing how more and more orchestral instruments such as strings are being incorporated into the music, in a way the jump into Lil' Beethoven two years later doesn't come of as THAT much of a shock because of this. The evolution of sound here is fascinating!) I really like the intense beats, just as much as the more laid-back and moodier pieces. And there's lots of gold to be found in the lyrics department as always.

One more thing I wanna say is that at some point I wondered if this music sounds older than it is. Maybe it does? But then I remembered that this was 2000 and honestly when I think about it, there just IS something about this album that fits so well with the Y2K image and vibe and all. Sparks 2000 and all that.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Balls: I mean. It's Balls.

Scheherazade: absolutely LOVE this one and I had the strangest impression of it sounding very familiar when I first heard it. Months later I found out that it was just briefly featured in TSB so I think that explains it (I will talk more about my TSB viewings on TSB day. EVERYTHING has to be explained in excruciating detail, lmao)

The Calm Before The Storm: bugsonas 4ever. Song itself is amazing too

How To Get Your Ass Kicked: how can a song about getting your ass kicked be so pleasant and relaxing, it always keeps cracking me up, how perfect that is actually

Bullet Train: I love it how introducing the topic of the song with a "It's the [topic of the song]" is a reoccurring theme on this album. Thank you Sparks for this ode to technology and art (these lyrics always have me giggling). And also it just goes hard as heck

It's Educational: a perfect fusion of / sequel to I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car and Progress (it's mostly the vocal delivery that reminds me of the latter)

The Angels: such an odd one here but I still like it a lot, I apparently said that it sounds "surprisingly mainstream for Sparks but somehow in a positive way". It's very sweet and I absolutely love how Russell sings here, it's so different from what we're used to but that only makes it hit you even more in the feels, lol. And I actually prefer the alternative version of this song that's featured as a bonus track, and I do think that's in big part because you can hear Russell better on it (or that was my first impression of it at least and it kind of stuck)

[dan-crimes]

LMAO so funny thing is everyone knows the whole Sonic and Shadow looking alike thing is total bullshit and I totally agree those comments they try to pull in the games and show(s? I'm not technically a Sonic fan I dunno if it's multiple) make basically no sense to me but then my Mom comes in while watching Sonic Prime and says "So what, Sonic has a brother or something?" and this whole other world has opened up to me and I've seen the truth of it all

[ragingdumpsterfire]

.

[bestnoncannonship]

With JoAnne Fabrics going out of business I feel it is my duty as a cosplayer, historical costumer, and general sewing gremlin to help teach y'all how not to be reliant on evil overpriced mediocre big box stores for fabric and cosplay supply, cause if I catch y'all going into Homophobia Lobby to get cosplay fabrics imma have to start throwing hands. And frankly you guys all deserve better.

- Find a neighborhood full of brown people. Probably a slightly poorer neighborhod. I know, I know, but they will have small independent fabric stores. Selection in each may vary. Hispanic and Caribbean areas will give you prints that EAT. Muslim areas will give you fabrics with amazing drapery. Indian and Southeast Asian areas will give you beading that would make the House of Worth wet with envy. (Try to avoid oldwhitelady quilting stores unless you are a knitter or are specifically trying to cosplay Kirsten Larson.) (Also ask while you're there for lunch/dinner spot recommendations. Your fabric store guy usually has a buddy with a joint nextdoor with the best *insert relevant ethnic food here* you'll ever put in your mouth.)

- DEVELOP A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE OWNER OF SAID STORE. This I cannot stress enough. Abdul, my fabric guy, can and will get me whatever I want cause he knows me, knows I bring in other young people, and knows I will be back every month for more. Indie fabric stores tend to have older clients. They are anxious to see faces under 60. Just chat with whoever is in there about the kind of stuff you want and need and they will help you. This also frequently leads to discounts. I have not paid listed price for fabric in years and just walked out of Abdul's with 7~ yards of gorgeous teal satin for 10 bucks. Not a yard. Total.

- Do not be afraid of mess. The best shit comes from stores that look like a hurricane went through them. Don't try to understand the organization. (One day, 4 years into your relationship with the store, suddenly the fabric gods will reveal the knowledge to you.) Again, talk to whoever is in there about your project. They'll help.

- Give up on one stop shopping. Get your crafting supplies elsewhere. Like a small independent hardware store. There's usually an old guy in there that reminds you of an uncle who will also help you.

-Worbla and whatever other Cosplay Specific Material you're using is a fatphobic material straight from Satan's hot taint, you do not need it, and any old hardware/tractor supply dad will help you find better, more durable armor/weapon/detailing material. Don't snub your nose at paper mache and plaster of paris. Venetian Mask makers have been using it for years. Balsa wood is also your friend. Hardware store Uncles will teach you to work with both.

- Elderly people are your bffs. If you see an old person TALK TO THEM. They know how to do all kinds of shit. I know there's a hesitation around old people because of the political climate and a fear that they may be homo/trans/whatever-phobic, but hey....minds are changed by making friends. My elderly Muslim fabric supplier is an Our Flag Means Death fan because of me gushing about the teal I needed for Stede Bonnet. He wishes me happy pride now. He put bolt of rainbow in the window in June and kept it up all summer. And he'd never had a thought about queers before me.

- Don't feel limited to Craft and Fabric stores. Hardware stores are cool. They stock outdoor fabrics and umbrella and furniture covers that are very durable....my first cosplay was made out of patio furniture covers. Also upholstery stores and upholsterers have velvets and damasks and faux leather and real leather and all sorts of rich textures. Most of them will part with a few yards pretty cheap. Second hand sheets and bedspreads and curtains also make some really cool garments. A significant amount of my ren fair garb started as household goods.

- If you are forced to order fabric online, please for the love of all that is holy DO NOT BUY FROM MOOD or any other famous store. You're paying for their branding and their place on certain reality shows I will not mention. Indie is always cheaper for the quality and usually not abusing their workers.

- If the fabric/hobby/hardware/upholstery/etc store you develop a relationship with is inconveniently far from you, see if said owner is willing to take your order via phone and send it to you. You'd be surprised how accommodating people in the crafting and sewing world can be.

It all really comes down to having to form a community. I know finding multiple small stores is a lot less convenient than Joannes. But forming a relationship with a local supplier will, in the long run, yield you much better results AND put money and good back into a community near you.

(And if you're in the NYC area DM me and I'll put you in contact with Abdul. He's the absolute best and I'd do anything to help him and his business grow!!!)

[leyavo]

Simon x Cat x Neighbour!reader

Part two > (previous part)

Simon Riley was a lot like his cat, dropping by your flat whenever he wanted. Thanking you for looking after Cat in small little ways.

Bringing you home little trinkets from his work travels. “Got it from some market, can’t tell you where though. Would have to kill ya and I really don’t want that.” Little things that line every inch of your windowsill, crystals he’s found because he knows you like them.

Thankfully it wasn’t a mouse, Simon hunting one down after Cat delivered one to you. And as you watched him pause, head angled to listen for the squeaks or little scurries. You couldn’t help but think he was a cat too. For a big guy, he was light on his feet and everything he did quiet.

“Dinner?” You asked, trying not to look at the mouse dangling between Simon’s finger and thumb by its tail. “Not a huge fan of rodent.”

He invites you into his flat for the first time, promising that it’s rodent free. “Woah your place is real big,” you say, opening your arms in the space as if you expected to touch wall to wall. Simon’s thinking of all the activities he could do with you, but decides dinners a good start.

Dinner turns into grabbing a morning coffee after a run and even going on evening runs, which angers him because before him you never would have done so alone. Sitting on the bench in the park to stretch or take a rest as you sip your water bottle, stickers decorating the outside.

When the pipe under your sink was dripping water for months, he fixed it and you didn’t find out till you went to check if the bucket was full of water again. No, no bucket under the sink. There was a small tool box in its place, stuff you had no idea what to do with.

Cat was drinking from the bucket under the sink, that’s how Simon discovered it. He’s even got a picture of it on his phone as well as a load of pictures you’d sent him with Cat. Sometimes he looks through them in his room back at the base. A few videos of your soft voice calling Cat.

So you sent him a picture of said toolbox and messaged him. “Did the fairies visit me?” He didn’t respond till the next day, “big bloody fairy.” promising to show you what they were for and sending you a video of basic plumbing if you wanted to learn yourself whilst you waited for his return.

Cue Simon teaching you how to fix the plumbing in your flat. The two of you squeezed into the little box of a bathroom as he listened to you explain about the low pressure of the shower and the tap on the sink you wanted to swap with something pretty.

The eroded shower hose snapping and spraying the both of you with water. Simon’s hoody drenched, sticking to every curve and dip of his muscles. Your back leant against the wall as his arm reached above you to turn the water off.

“I really wanna kiss ya,” he said, head inching closer to yours, gaze flitting to your lips. “Kiss me.”

You use his place for sex and make sure Cat is in your flat, “don’t want the kid to see,” is what Simon says.

Whenever Simon sees you’ve run out of anything, he’ll pick it up when he’s doing his weekly food shop. The coffee sachets refilled when you go to the kettle and when you ask, Simon shrugs “the fairies,” he says, sipping his cup of tea with the morning paper.

Even when you are officially dating you were still going between the two flats. Joking that cat had the studio and you could stay with Simon.

[prlssprfctn]

A big fan of crack-au, where UTRH goes wrong, and Bruce just accepts Jason back because he misses him, except for some reason he dreads telling all the story to kids, so now he just brings back home Red Hood without telling others that it is Jason. Jason is amused because of course he is... he has such a vast space for teasing the shit out of family.

Dick: Wait, WHAT? Dick: I know I said that Red Hood low-key was impressive, but it wasn't supposed to be an, uh, encouragement for adopting him? Tim: Screw that. Why is he still in his helmet? He is allowed to know who we are, but we are going to cover his identity? How is that fair? Bruce: Well. You see... Jason: I am not taking my helmet off. When I was a kid, Joker butchered my face. Tim, awkwardly: ...Okay, I see an adopting requirement is passed. Bruce: ...Tim, I don't have requirements for- Dick: Still sounds like bullshit to me. How old are you? Jason: Nineteen, fuck ass. Dick, instantly melting: OH MY GOD, IT IS A BABY CRIME LORD!

Bruce, sighing: Lad, I feel so guilty for lying to them Jason, shrugging: You weren't that guilty when you allowed this ugly memorial to stay in the Batcave. Bruce: ... Alfred: Good point. Bruce, frustrated: Al, you put it in the first place. Jason: He paid off by his Friday lasagna delivery to my doors. It is your turn. Bruce: *quiet sigh*

Jason, appearing out of nowhere behind Dick's back: So, I heard you have a dead brother. Dick: Jesus- What- Jason: You liked him much? Dick: What? Of course. I loved Jason, he was my baby. Why are you asking that? Jason, humming: No reason. Keep it up.

Tim: I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, but I *will* get to the bottom of it. Also, your strange obsession with Jason is low-key weird. Jason, trashing out Tim's stalker stash: Really, what about yours? Tim: YOU MOTHERFUCKER-

Bruce: So... You feel better, Jason? Jason: Yep. Totally satisfied. Bruce, hopeful: So, about you being the crime lord- Jason: So, about admitting to your kids that I am not a rando? Bruce: ...Uhh. Never mind, you are doing great, sweetheart.

Dick, carrying groceries: Oh, come on. Red Hood is cute. He is just a little socially awkward, but overall? A baby. Tim, grunting, while opening the kitchen door: The nicest thing he had done was editing my last-minute essays. Overall, he can go and fuck himself. Jason, without a helmet, having a tea party with Alfred and Bruce in the kitchen: ... Dick and Tim: ... Bruce: ... Jason: Oh, fuck my life, since when you two know a road to the KITCHEN Dick: LITTLE WING? Bruce: I... I can explain. Tim: You sleazy motherfucker. I *knew* Babs deleted some footage from your cowl, I KNEW IT. Bruce: I CAN EXPLAIN! Dick, in tears: JAY. BABY. Jason, trying to escape the kitchen: I am just a hallucination. You didn't see a shit. Dick: No, you are not. Your hallucination sits on the counter, silly. Jason: ...The fuck? Bruce, catching Jason by the collar, whispering: Don't leave me alone there. Help me out. Say something to avert the attention. Jason, panicking: Uh Jason: By the way, we have another brother, he is a biological son of Bruce and Talia, and his name is Damian Everyone: WHAT Jason: Well. Bye. Jason: *jumps out of the window*

[sugarwarachan]

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 11k

plot › this Drabble I had, but expanded. And changed the ending for this part.

warnings › for all characters in the group — faceclaim. Bottom male reader. Age gap, reader is four years older than OC. Reader’s last name is Hong. Unreliable narrator. Slow burn, Mingi is the main romance but you do dabble with the other members.

kinks › body worship, cross dressing, size difference

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Dongsaeng (동생) — little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend. Aegyo(애교) — a way of acting cute in Korea culture.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

At the age of twenty-one, you thought had run out of time to debut. You did end up debuting with five other boys, as the leader no less. Of course being from a small company meant your debut wasn’t that big but it was better than nothing.

The group was called 미라클 (Miracle). The company wanted a boy group to sell a boyfriend fantasy to fans, especially female fans.

You and your group were even advertise as specific types of boyfriends.

Hong (Name), leader of Miracle had a nice ring to it. Advertised as the no-nonsense boyfriend, cold but caring.

박요한 (Park Yohan), sub vocalist and lead dancer of Miracle. Debuted at the age of twenty. Advertised as the athletic boyfriend, energetic and upbeat.

김기현 (Kim Kihyun), lead vocalist and main dancer of Miracle. He was the same age as Yohan. Advertised as the artistic boyfriend, writes music just for you (the fan).

박도하 (Park Doha), main rapper of Miracle. Debuted at the age of nineteen. Advertised as the bad boy, with a hidden heart of gold.

양효진 (Yang Hyojin), sub vocalist and lead rapper of Miracle, under the stage name Jin. Debuted at the age of eighteen. Advertised as the guitarist boyfriend, shy but sweet.

최민기 (Choi Mingi), main vocalist of Miracle. The maknae, debuting at age seventeen. Advertised as the golden retriever boyfriend, naive and well meaning.

With the two underage members, you were a bit worried about them being used to portray a fantasy. But any worries you had were always pushed aside. In the end you ended up trying to protect Mingi and Hyojin by yourself, and even the other members.

Which led to the first two years of your group to label you as “Miracle’s Dad.”

It didn’t bother you, though it did ruin the whole boyfriend image for you. Most of the fans could only really see you as the group’s parent, and by extension, their own.

The company ended up leaning into it. Follow the money or whatever.

The groups debut was school boy concept. It made sense though you felt weird being twenty-one dancing in a school uniform. Over time as the members grew older, the company allowed you guys to experiment to more mature music.

But the group really blew up when the group was four years old. You had turned twenty-five and basically begged the company to finally allow the group to have a sensual concept.

They refused, obviously. But they allowed the b-side that you’d guys promote be just a little bit sensual.

Embarrassing to say that you quickly leaned into it. You performed the b-side as if your rent was due. In the end it worked out for you.

Who knew acting sexual on stage would make people like you more. It also helped that you wore revealing clothes in comparison to everyone else. The stylist practically went to town with your outfit.

Skin tight leather pants that had a hole on your right thigh. A black crop top that showed off your stomach, a waist chain, and heavy black eye makeup. Most of all, a freaking choker that you purposefully played with during the performance.

In any case, your little performance helped bring Miracle more fans. The next fan meeting was sold out in just one day! A first for your group.

Which lead to today, the fan meeting.

“Are you going to wear a choker again?”

You flinched as a chin rest on your shoulder. Your eyes moved from your phone as you glanced over at Yohan, who had just finished makeup. Yohan gave you a cheeky smirk as you rolled your eyes and pushed him away.

“Why would I wear it for a fan meeting? The theme is costumes.” You said, checking the time. You were next to get your outfit and makeup down. The fan meeting had fallen on Halloween so the company took the chance to have you all dress up.

Yohan was a butler by the looks of it. His dyed pink hair slicked back, a pair of fake glasses on the bridge of his nose. He pulled out his phone, “you sure you don’t want to get a side account? The fans are funny as fuck.”

He’d been pestering you about seeing what everyone online thought about you but you weren’t exactly into that. Besides, it’s for the fans mostly, wouldn’t it be weird if you bothered them?

“Hong (Name).”

“Gotta go.” You said, getting up.

“I hope they put you in another choker!”

Yohan was right, you would be getting a choker again.

But not in the way you thought.

You stared in the mirror just as a few staff members told your group that the fans were here.

You were dressed a princess, Cinderella to be exact. Y’know, you expected something to go with the recent rise of your popularity. Something sexy, not this cute outfit. The blonde wig was cheap but still managed to look decent due to the stylist’s touches.

The dress was blue and puffy, somehow fitting you. It was knee length, possibly due to your height. There was a bit of tightness around your chest. Was this originally for a girl? You shook your head. There was a blue little choker that matched the light blue gloves you wore.

The shoes you wore were just sneakers, the stylist got lazy at the end. You had on white thigh highs that had a frilly top at the end. Despite your slight disappointment, you couldn’t lie that you were cute.

The stylist did perfect girlish make up on you, somehow managing to make your face look feminine. Oh well, you could cross off cross dressing on your bucket list!

“Looking good, Princess!” Yohan appeared behind you, grinning. Kihyun was right beside him, taking in your outfit.

Kihyun was a cowboy. His hat slipping down when he looked back up at you. “You look good, Hyung. Did you shave?” He pushed the hat back up.

“I usually shave.” You said, shrugging. “Hairless legs feel nice.”

Yohan hummed. “Hm,” he fixed your wig when it looked tilted. “Maybe I should shave. Hey, Kihyun, wanna help a hyung out?”

“Don’t even come near me.” Kihyun rolled his eyes, quickly walking away.

“Look at him… Our dongsaengs are so mean nowadays.” Yohan shook his head as he let out an exasperated sigh. You rolled your eyes and began to drag Yohan out to the back of the stage.

Everyone else was already there.

The staff motioned for you all to rush out onto stage one by one. The youngest went first. You almost felt nervous going out but stood tall as you walked out last.

The fans screams were almost deafening. You almost covered your ears subconsciously. Your lips twitched as you tried to fight back a smile, it was one of the few times they ever screamed that loud when you came on stage.

It was always Mingi or Kihyun, the most biased out of the group.

The fan meet went as it always does. Miras, Miracle’s fandom name, were excited to see the group. Little dances or karaoke performances of other groups songs. For the first time, fans actually called out your name to take more pictures of you.

Any nervousness you had over the dress was long gone by this point. You decided to let loose and get into the ‘princess’ persona. Doha was dressed a vampire so you posed together for the fan cameras.

“Bite him!”

“Bite him, Doha-Ssi!”

Doha glanced over at you. You could instantly tell the mischievous aura that was beaming from him as his lips slowly pulled into a smirk. Before you could even attempt to run away his hand grabbed your arm as he pulled you close.

Miras screamed as he playfully bit your neck. You squirmed as you could only laugh, reaching to push him away but he easily grabbed both of your wrists. He held them tight as he held his pose so the fan girls could take as many pictures as possible.

Finally he pulled away. You glared at him and quickly got your revenge by ‘accidentally’ hitting your knee against his crotch. Doha went down with a whimper.

Yohan quickly walked over, but not to help as he kneeled and took a quick selfie. “I hope they make memes of this!” He laughed, moving to sit on top of Doha’s back as the younger muttered out a short prayer for his crotch.

You glanced over to see what the other members were doing. Mingi was being told to do multiple poses while Kihyun and Hyojin were trying on different hand bands Miras had brought on. That gave you the idea to find one for yourself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t miss with your wig. Wouldn’t want to go bald on stage.

You were sitting on top of the table on the stage, grabbing one of the gifts that Miras brought in. As you debated between the cat ears or frog hat, a hand suddenly gripped your thigh.

Your body jumped as you glanced up to see who was touching you to see it was only Mingi. He was dressed in an ancient Korean costume, complimented with a Korean hat. It was no wonder the fans kept telling him to be an actor.

He looked straight out of a historical kdrama.

“Something wrong?” You finally asked, calming down when you realized it was just him. Weirdly enough he was covering you from the fans. Hm.

Mingi stared down at you, his face blank. His dyed blonde hair was pulled into a little bun to fit into the hat. Light makeup applied to his fox like features, red lipstick on his lips. You didn’t mean to but you stared at his lips for a moment before quickly looking back up.

His eyes narrowed in on your neck. You reached up to touch your neck and felt the teeth marks Doha left. Damn, you didn’t realize he had bitten that hard. Just as you glanced up at Mingi he was looking at your face.

“Your dress is short.” Mingi said, a grin pulling on his lips. But it didn’t reach his eyes. “You almost flashed everyone else.”

You gasped, glancing back at the fans. “Really?! Did they see anything?”

“No, I came just in time. They just…” Mingi glanced down at your thighs. The dress had ridden up to show off the bare skin of your thighs that weren’t covered by your socks. It was really close to showing the boxers you were wearing.

Mingi shook his head. “They didn’t see anything. Be careful next time, Hyung. Wouldn’t want anyone to… see you like this.”

“Thanks.” You simply said, giving him a little smile. Your lips pursed as you glanced back at the cat ears and frog hat. “Minnie, which one should I wear? Cat ears or frog hat?” You held up the two items.

He took the two from your hand before placing the cat ears back on the table. You made the attempt to reach for the frog hat, believing that’s what he chose for you until he stopped you.

You watched as he untied the hat he was wearing, taking it off before resting it on your head. He placed the frog hat on his head and then tied the Korean hat properly on you, making sure it was stable before pulling away.

“I wanted the frog hat. I think it’ll look better on me.” Mingi smirked. He fixed your dress, pulling it down to give you some modesty before stepping away to stop covering you.

“Ah…” You could only stare at him. That felt weird but you didn’t know why. He just wanted to switch hats. That’s all. You were making it weird.

He’s someone you have to take care of! You pinched yourself to push any weird thoughts in your head as you slipped off the table.

The rest of the fan meet was smooth sailing. Mingi didn’t bother you. Doha was mewing for the camera while Yohan would randomly start breakdancing for no reason. Kihyun and Hyojin were once again in their own little world.

Though they were nice enough to let you sit on the sideline. You sometimes wondered if they had something on side. In a hour or so the fan meet was done.

You all practically rushed to get home. While you loved interacting with fans, you always felt insanely tired after. There was always a certain persona you had to have—especially the one that the company had given you.

As you sat in the company van, you glanced over at Yohan. He was snickering at something on his phone. You leaned closer to see what it was.

It was a video of you hitting Doha in the balls. From the angle, it was so obvious it wasn’t an accident. As Yohan swiped down to the comments, so many fans were laughing. Lots of them saying Doha had to say goodbye to having children.

“It’s funny, right?” Yohan suddenly asked, looking up at you.

You flinched before nodding, not seeing the purpose of lying now. “Yeah, I guess. Is that all they do?”

“They do fan edits and even fan art. I found an edit of my breakdancing already.” Yohan showed the video. The edit made his dancing look cooler than it actually was. You rolled your eyes, of course Yohan would like it.

“You should really just take a look,” Yohan looked back down at his phone. “It’s cool seeing how they talk about us.”

The driver started the car as you glanced out the window. Maybe Yohan wasn’t wrong. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek at what Miras are doing.

Besides… you wanted to see if maybe Miras saw you outside of being ‘Miracle’s Dad.’

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After taking a nice shower, you got dressed in some loose pajamas. Since Miracle was a four year group, the company finally allowed you all to not room in one apartment as six men.

Though they could only afford a three apartments, meaning you would still have to room with someone. The apartments were all on the same floor and right near each other. Meaning there were days your band mates would still bother you like a little kid.

Yohan and Doha were roommates.

Kihyun and Hyojin, unsurprising to everyone.

That left you and Mingi. You thought he would’ve been upset about that but he was calm. If you were delusional enough, you would’ve thought he was even happy.

But you aren’t delusional.

You could hear Mingi gaming in the living room. You almost attempted to go out and ask him to keep the volume down but just as you opened the door, the volume was already low. Hm, he was a smart guy.

With that settled, you turned on your colorful fairy lights and plopped down onto your bed. You responded to any text messages that came up when you got bored.

Your finger pressed on Twitter. You were logged onto the group’s official account. As you scrolled past what the company posted—you suddenly got the urge to see what the fans were doing.

Just for a second. Just for a little bit.

You got to work and logged out of the account, making a side account. To better infiltrate Miras, you made a small little fan account.

Perhaps you are a little bit conceited but you decided to use your own picture as the profile picture. You used one from the fan meet today. That blonde wig was really pretty on you, why shouldn’t you enjoy it a bit more?

After creating the account, you began scrolling through the more major fan accounts. There were of course a lot for Kihyun and Mingi. That much you expected it.

There were many viral tweets of Mingi in his costume. So many Miras squealing that he would make a perfect actor. One post had over 100k likes.

As you scrolled through the many posts of Miras saying they wanted to “bounce on that dick” you came across a profile that an ‘18+’ in their handle.

What could they be posting to have such an handle?

Curiosity got the best of you. You pressed in their account to check it out. The account had Yohan as their profile, an older one of him, possibly at your debut. It was named @hanniesmira

The first few posts were just of Yohan taken at the fan meet. Her captions were pretty sweet, you wondered how bad things could get. Until you came across a tweet she had of Yohan and Doha.

It was when Yohan had just finished his ridiculous breakdancing. You remembered Miras yelling for Doha to bite him since he was in arms length of him.

The caption read:

→ you cant tell me DH hasn’t fucked Yhn in this type of position before!!!

‘DH?’ ‘Yhn?’ Why did she censor their name like that? You didn’t question it and decided to see how she could possibly get this perverted idea of Yohan and Doha. The video started with Yohan standing up after his breakdancing, breathing heavily as he wiped at his face.

The Miras in the video began to tell Doha to quickly bite Yohan while he’s distracted. Doha gave them a thumb ups before inching close to an oblivious Yohan. Yohan seemed to notice something was wrong judging by the giggles from Miras.

He made an attempt to run when Doha delivered his attack. Two of Doha’s fingers easily hooked itself in Yohan’s belt hoops of his pants and pulled him back with ease. His free hand reached up and gripped Yohan’s chin as he harshly tilted his head to the right.

Doha delivered the quick bite into Yohan’s neck. Yohan winced as his free hand reached up and gripped Doha’s hair as he could only take Doha’s attack. The video ended just as Doha pulled away and Yohan turned to face him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Oh.

Okay you could see it. That was a bit… 

You must’ve been daydreaming to not have noticed that oddly sexually charged interaction. So maybe this girl wasn’t crazy. Now intrigued, you decided to continue on.

There were other videos of the fan meet. Though she wasn’t just a Yohan and Doha solo fan. She retweeted a few posts of Kihyun and Hyojin.

Kihyun was leaning over to wipe something off Hyojin’s lips. You didn’t see how any of that was romantic but thought back to the fact you practically did that for every member multiple times.

You really did act like a dad…

Time passed as you started to sink deeper into the ‘NSFW’ side of Miras. You learned Miras ‘censored’ names to hide posts from the searches. Kihyun and Hyojin were a major couple, many fan fictions made about them. Almost every Mira agreed that they were secretly dating.

Yohan and Doha was a different story. It seemed most people fought over who would top.

Then there was other ships. Hyojin and Doha. Yohan and Kihyun. Kihyun and Doha. Hyojin and Yohan. Even with Mingi. Mingi was mostly shipped with Hyojin. You wondered why you weren’t showing up at much, feeling oddly left out.

Weird, you were wondering why no one was over analyzing your sex life!

Just as you were about to call it a night, you came across a post finally discussing you. Hanniesmira was quote tweeting someone else’s tweet.

→ Is this really yalls alpha daddy? Not with those omega eyes!!

Omega eyes?! You took a look at just what she was quoting. It was of your fan page. A gif of today’s fan meet. You were in the Cinderella costume, fixing your wig before looking up, grinning at the crowd. Whatever omega eyes meant, you kinda understood what she meant.

You certainly didn’t look anything like how you usually presented yourself.

As you looked at the comments, an account caught your eye. @itsokokok. The account had you as the profile picture. It was of you on stage for the sensual b-side you guys promoted. Much to your surprise, the account had over 78k followers.

It was getting late but you wanted to see what an account about you said. Were you the top? You hoped so.

It seemed the owner of this account was a guy! Shocking, it was the first male fan you came across.

The account was of you… and pretty much only you. He retweeted a lot of pictures of you in the Cinderella costume. Others of your performance in the infamous choker. Multiple gifs of you pulling at the choker as you stared at the camera. You never realized how dark the eye makeup was.

Clothes and makeup could really change how you looked. It was like night and day compared to the Cinderella costume.

@bluemuuun

↳ tip sticky…

@slipslickk

↳ oh but if I say Hong (Name) is a slut asking to be fucked I’m the bad guy?

@hanniesmira

↳ someone creampie this man!!!

@hyunkikii

↳ need him… need him bouncing on it…

@hyoojinie

↳ 143 entertainment knew to keep this (Name) away from me cuz imma about to defy the laws of biology and get this man pregnant

@dohasflatass

↳ yall should see how Min looked at him during the performance ㅋㅋㅋㅋ he was about to combust

You clicked on the account @dohasflatass was linking to. It was a Mingi fan account, judging by the account having him as their profile picture. The caption wasn’t something you expected, not in your wildest dreams.

→ min wants to fuck him so bad

The video had you delivering your killer move, tugging at your choker as you stared at the camera, biting your lip. It suddenly switched to Mingi. He was delivering his dance moves but his eyes laser focused on you. You hadn’t noticed because you were in the center.

Even though you didn’t think he wanted to fuck you, he was certainly staring at you like you were a three course meal.

The account, @mingihongi had other videos of Mingi supposedly staring at you when you never noticed. One that caught your attention was from today’s fan meet. It was when Doha had restrained you.

The camera zoomed into Mingi, who was standing not too far from you. He was staring straight at you and Doha. There was no subtlety to the anger on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he gripped at the toy prop he was holding.

Another video was of when you were on the table. Your dress was riding up, your legs swinging absentmindedly as you tried to figure out what to wear. Just as the dress was about to uncover your boxers—Mingi was suddenly in front of you. The video quickly ended after that.

@hyoojinie

↳ someone jelly… forget shipping (Name) with anyone else ㅋㅋㅋㅋ min would murder them

@hanniesmira

↳ (name) shaves?! I need min to bite his thighs!!!

@hyunkikii

↳ alpha daddy my ass… that man is Miracle’s mommy and min’s slut

@hyoojinie

↳ real. (Name) is honestly more like a mom—good thing I love MILFS!!! ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@dohasflatass

↳ if only people didn’t just see him as the ‘dad’.. they’re missing out on seeing min fight every fiber in on his body to not fuck his leader on stage

@slipslickk

↳ remember the live stream?? Min wanted that cookie so fucking bad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@dohasflatass

↳ which one ㅎㅎㅎ min always stares at (name) like he needs to fuck him or he’ll die

“Hyung.”

You squealed, tossing your phone across the bed as the door opened. Mingi walked in as he rubbed at his face. His eyes were struggling to say open as he moved over to your bed.

“Something wrong?” You asked, trying to forget what you just read. Miras were fucking freaky.

“Hm.” Mingi shrugged as he reached over and pushed you to lay back down. You didn’t fight him as you raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He turned off your nightstand as he crawled over you before plopping down on the bed beside you.

He yawned as he wrapped his arms around your waist and easily pulled you against his body. You flinched but did nothing to stop him. This was normal, he used to do this back during your pre-debut days. One time he got a nightmare and cuddled with you that night… after that you never refused him whenever he asked again.

Even if you knew he couldn’t be possibly having nightmares every night. He stopped saying he had a nightmare and just got comfortable in bed with you.

It had been awhile since he had done that after moving into this apartment. You assumed he had outgrown it being that he was twenty-one now and you twenty-five. But as he got comfortable, you couldn’t stop yourself from gently playing with a strand of his hair.

“Night, Minnie.” You whispered. He hummed before cuddling you closer.

Everything would be okay. Whatever Miras were talking about was rubbish. You were Miracle’s Dad and would continue taking care of them, especially the maknae.

He didn’t want you that way…

Right?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After your descent into madness only being two weeks ago, you unfortunately began to view Yohan and Doha a bit differently. You already thought Kihyun and Hyojin had a special bond but never with Yohan and Doha.

“We should do an Instagram live today.” You said, staring over at Yohan.

The two of you were in the dance practice room. Yohan had wanted to show you a few moves which led to you two being in there for over two hours. The man was a dance machine and you were too nice to tell him that you wanted to go home.

It was around 10:00 pm but it was a Friday night.

You grabbed your phone and opened the groups Instagram, @Yourmiracle, not waiting for Yohan to respond. Yohan plopped down beside you on the small couch that was in the room. He wrapped his arm underneath your waist and rest his head on your chest.

Yohan was naturally cuddly so you didn’t say anything, pressing the live button. It didn’t take long for Miras to immediately start rushing in.

“Hi hi~! Miras, I have a special gift for you today: Sweaty Yohan!” You grinned, panning your phone down to get Yohan in frame.

He rolled his eyes and used his free hand to push it away. You laughed and steady your hand, making sure only the top of his hair was in frame. Your hand absentmindedly began to play with his hair as you read the comments flooding in.

“Yohan’s hair looks fried?” You read, snickering when Yohan let out a disgruntled grunt. “Miras are saying you should do black hair for the next comeback.”

“If I do black I can’t die my hair ever again,” Yohan whined, burying his face into your neck.

You flinched at his sweat now touching your neck,“You’re sweaty!! Get off, Hannie.” Though you made no real attempt to push Yohan away.

→ Their boyfriends are gonna be so mad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

One of the comments caught your eye. Boyfriends? Who could they be talking about? You began paying more attention as a few other comments either told the person to shut up or began joking around with them as well.

They did mean Doha? Maybe they just meant Yohan’s boyfriend would be mad.

Yohan suddenly yawned as he moved to sit up, his face fully showing now. He rubbed at his eyes before pressing his nose against your cheek.

“End the live I wanna go home now.”

“Haha, now you wanna go home?” You teased, “you had me here for almost two hours, just to show me some dance moves! You can sit still for thirty minutes.”

A displeased grunt left Yohan as he pulled away a bit, a pout on his lips. He was obviously trying to do puppy dog eyes at you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning your attention back to comments.

“Hyungie…” Yohan whined again as he reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His face was inches from yours—his nose brushed against yours, causing you to flinch. “Please..? For your favorite member?”

All you could really think about was the fact he wasn’t your favorite member. Not the fact that this could be viewed as oddly romantic.

“Who said you were my favorite?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “My favorite is Hyo—!”

Yohan squished your face as he glared at you. Your lips were now puckered out, eyes wide as you stared at Yohan in shock. The phone was almost slipping out of your hand, forgetting all about keeping it steady.

“Really? I’m not your favorite?” Yohan whispered, his eyes gazing into yours. You blinked, wondering what on Earth was happening. Why was he so close?

Your body tensed as your spare hand reached up to grip at Yohan’s shirt as you felt your face heat up. “Han—”

“—what are you doing to my favorite hyung?”

The door to the room was pushed open, walking in was Doha and Mingi. Doha chuckled as he plopped down on the couch right beside Yohan. He wrapped his arm around Yohan’s neck and pulled him away from you.

Yohan released your face as you quickly pulled away, rubbing at your sore cheeks. Mingi didn’t say anything as he stood in front of you. He kneeled down, sliding his arms around your waist and underneath your legs, much to your shock.

A complaint was on the tip of your tongue as he easily manhandled you to move away from Yohan. Mingi sat down in the now free space, grabbing your phone that was still on live.

You could only watch as Doha and Mingi took over the live with a disgruntled Yohan in between them. There was something off about what just happened but you couldn’t explain why.

As your dongsaengs continued on, you couldn’t help but feel a bit… left out? Weird. You shook your head and sighed. Now you wanted to go home. Things were getting weird.

You turned over to face the three of them, scooting in close to Mingi. Doha was talking about what he did today while Mingi occasionally chimed in. Yohan was practically dozing off by now, his head resting on Doha’s shoulder.

Usually, you could just command the members and they’d do whatever you ask. Other times you would act ‘cute’ to get them disgusted enough to do whatever you want. Since you didn’t exactly feel like putting on the usual leader persona, you mustered up a disgustingly cute ‘aegyo.’

“Minnie~” you whispered, moving to rest your head on Mingi’s shoulder. His body flinched immediately with your touch. There was a slight sting in your heart at his reaction but you pushed through, using your hand to grip at his shirt as you gazed up at him.

You batted your eyelashes, pouting your lips. “I wanna go home… but not without you~” you let out a particularly high pitched whine before a little giggle spilled out. You’d rarely do aegyo as the leader that it was hilarious to yourself whenever you did, especially with the reaction your members usually gave you.

“Holy shit.” Doha suddenly said, catching your attention.

“Doha!” You said, your act long gone. “No cussing on live!” Just as you were about to reprimand him even more, Mingi ended the live swiftly. He slipped your phone in his pocket and sat up so fast you got whiplash for him. “Minnie—?”

Mingi grabbed your hand and pulled you up without any effort. You could only watch in shock as he tugged you out of the dance practice room. Doha was heard laughing behind you.

“Wait for us, lovebirds!”

Lovebirds?

“Minnie, was it that bad?” You asked, not bothering to pull your hand away as Mingi guided you to the company’s van to take you home. “I won’t do it again if it bothered you—!”

You squealed as Mingi suddenly turned around, his hands now grasping your shoulders as he stared down at you. Wait, when did he get taller? Were you always shoulder height in comparison to him?

“Don’t.” Mingi said, his grip tightening. “Don’t stop. I liked it.”

Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Like? He liked it? Your cheeks flushed before you pushed away any weird thought in your head. “Haha, yeah, it’s funny seeing someone like me do aegyo, huh?”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed as he was about to speak until Doha walked outside with Yohan on his back. Yohan was knocked out cold as he snored. Doha walked over to you two and smirked, ignoring the glare Mingi sent his way.

“Too slow, Mingi. Better luck next time~!” Doha chuckled, going over to the van as the driver opened the door.

“Hm?” You asked, tilting your head. “Next time for what..?”

Mingi shook his head, releasing his grip on you. “Nothing. Let’s go. It’s late.” He pulled out your phone and handed it over to you. “You said you’ll only go home with me.”

You blushed. “Ah, yeah. Let’s go home.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It wasn’t even a full hour when the NSFW side already had photos and clips of the live. You were going to sleep as soon as you got home but was itching to see what was happening online.

Unsurprisingly it was mostly of Mingi. You understood why, he was handsome. Even barefaced he looked like a god in comparison to you. But even then you couldn’t help but feel bitter.

You decided to visit the accounts you got to know from before. They were mostly talking about the little Doha and Yohan moment. It was actually pretty sweet.

A few talked about Yohan’s weird attack on you but mostly on how dominate he was. Just gushing about how sexy he was, nothing about you.

You almost just went to bed when you came across a post of you and Mingi.

It was of your aegyo. Through the video you got to see Mingi’s face as you touched him. It was different than what you had originally thought. You had thought he was annoyed or even disgusted by your actions… but in the video that couldn’t be further from the truth.

His eyes practically laser focused on you as soon as you rested your head on his shoulder. Mingi’s free hand twitched, almost reaching over to touch you before quickly resting back down on his lap.

It’s after you say you wanted to go home with Mingi that his jaw tightens and the live ends immediately.

That doesn’t make sense, why did you affect him that much?

You scrolled through the comments before seeing one that made you pause.

→ he’s so fucking cringy… why does he keep bothering Minnie like that? He’s not even cute like Hyojin

Huh. Your first ever hate comment… that you’ve seen. You couldn’t help but want to defend yourself but you didn’t need to. A few Miras had already taken to defending you against the other so called Mira. You sighed and turned off your phone, knowing that if you stayed any longer you’d go too deep into the rabbit hole of hate spewed against you.

You tried to ignore the words you read, knowing that the thoughts of someone you don’t know doesn’t matter. But it’s easier said than done. Just as you begin wallowing in self pity, your bedroom door opens.

Mingi slips into your room, making no attempt to explain himself as he gets on your bed. He almost goes straight to bed before seeing your face. His sleepy demeanor is gone as he sits up, reaching over to turn on the lamp on your nightstand.

Your eyes squint as you cover the bright light with your hand, “Minnie, warning next time.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm..? What do you mean?”

Mingi frowned. “Your face. You look upset. What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I just… I just y’know, poked into fan territory.” You said, deciding to just leave it at that.

“Why do you care about what they think?”

“They’re our fans, they support us.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, “so? Just because they give us their money, they get to talk shit about us? What did you read?”

Your lips pursed as you looked away, not wanting to continue the conversation. But you had no choice as Mingi reached over and grabbed your face, turning your head to face him again. What’s with it and people grabbing your face?!

“Tell me, Hong (Name).”

If you weren’t shocked you would’ve reprimanded him for saying your name without any honorifics.

“Someone… said that I’m cringy. It’s silly, I know. But I’ve… I’ve noticed that not many Miras like me, haha.” You bit your lip, feeling tears well in your eyes. “It’s nothing serious but I wish.. I wish they liked me like they like you.”

The embarrassment began to rise in your chest as you wanted to hide underneath the covers.

“Stop caring about what they think.” Mingi said, his thumb wiping at the tear that managed to escape down your cheek. “Only care about what I… our group thinks about you.” He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours as you sniffled.

“Okay. Okay.” You whispered, letting out a laugh. “It’s so bad, I’m crying to the maknae about something so trivial.”

Mingi didn’t share that sentiment. His gaze harden as his brows furrowed, “you always do this.” He suddenly said.

“What—?”

“—you just view me as the maknae. I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m not a kid.”

“I.. I know but I’m just used to taking care of you..”

“Well stop.” He said it with such finality that it caused you to panic. What did he mean stop? Did he.. did he not need you anymore?!

“Stop..? But.. but…”

“Let me take care of you.” Mingi whispered, causing your breath to hitch. You didn’t get to question him as his lips pressed against yours. Your eyes widen as you reached up and gripped at his shirt, unable to put in the effort to push him away.

Why were you keeping him so close?

Mingi’s soft kiss felt as if he was fearful to really touch you. But as he noticed you weren’t putting up a fight, he immediately deepened the kiss. His lips claimed yours as he hungrily kissed you, one of his hands sliding down to reach underneath you and grip your ass.

You gasped into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in with ease. Your hands pathetically gripped at his shirt as you could only go through with the motions. Mingi seemed so experienced, did he kiss people before?

But you wouldn’t know…

Mingi was your first kiss.

Hong (Name), twenty-five years old who hasn’t so much as held hands romantically with someone.

You’d never imagine your maknae would be your first kiss. Especially for him to take the lead like this.

When his hand suddenly moved to your pajama pants, you quickly regain control over yourself. You pulled away from the kiss and gripped Mingi’s hand. The kiss practically took your breath away as you stared up at him.

Mingi didn’t look embarrassed at all, he looked relieved. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

You blushed. “H..Huh? Mingi, what are you saying?”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for years. But you always kept me at a distance.” He said, leaning in close to press a chaste kiss on your lips. You wished you could say you hated it. As he pulled away, he looked you in the eye before smiling. “It’s ok. I don’t expect a response right now.”

“Response..?”

Mingi only hummed. “But now I’ll do what I’ve always wanted to do.” He pulled away from you.

You watched as he got up from the bed. “Where are you going?”

“To take care of something. Go to sleep, Hyung.” Mingi said, giving you slight grin as he left your room.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was referring to. Your cheeks felt hot as you glanced down at your own crotch, checking to see if it was hard. Luckily you didn’t get hard from a simple kiss.

But Mingi did…

Was he.. was he that excited about finally confessing?

You cursed to yourself, lying down on your bed. You were going to need a few days.. weeks even to make sense of this.

The boy you took care for four years straight just told you that he never thought of you as an older brother figure. He wanted you romantically.

That means… this entire time, you’ve been reading the relationship wrong!

Fuck, what if you had the wrong idea about how your other relationships with the group was like?

You weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight!!

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t been able to sleep in general. It had only been two weeks since Mingi’s confession and he hasn’t acted out of character since. Sure he was a bit more touchy but he acted relatively normal. You wondered if you dreamt that night.

The other members could immediately tell something happened but you weren’t privy to their conversation.

Seemed like they had a group chat without you.

You certainly weren’t feeling left out, no way.

The group was holding a small little fan meeting outside the company. It was something the company did occasionally to allow people that couldn’t pay for real fan meetings to see you guys.

Perhaps one of the few good things your company did.

Since it wasn’t a real fan meeting you all just dressed in your regular outfits and really had no set plan on what to do.

While you liked it the whole outside fan meets, you soon started dreading them. You were always left on the side lines. Although Kihyun and Mingi were the most popular—Doha, Yohan, and Hyojin still had people calling their name.

You hardly had people call your name. But it was okay. You were the leader, you were strong. Though it honestly felt like Miras didn’t see you as a member but as a manager.

How they got to this conclusion was beyond your comprehension but the company actually tried to fix this. However that hardly helped. Yohan had believed it was because of the stupid persona they assigned to you didn’t fit your personality at all.

And while you agreed, the company wasn’t going to change your branding. So long as Miras didn’t hate you—you’d just have to deal with being ignored.

So, here you were, outside in the large courtyard the company had blocked off for the fan meet. There was a slight barrier between you and Miras as extra security since the fandom had grown heavily compared to last time.

There were way more Miras than last time. Especially more male Miras. The fanbase was majority girls, so it was shocking to see guys.

You stood in the center right between Kihyun and Hyojin. Miras were asking short questions for each member but you were getting skipped repeatedly. Hyojin seemed to notice based on the glance he gave you when they skipped you to ask him another question.

“(Name) Hyung,” Hyojin said, holding the mic up to his face as he gave you slight grin. His black hair was brushed back into a cute little ponytail. “Do you know any girl group dances?”

He gave the question directed to him to you. You couldn’t help but grin. He was your favorite for a reason, though you really loved each member equally.

You pursed your lips as you exaggerated your body language, “hmmmm, maybe~? Do you wanna see Hyung dance?”

“Waaah!” Yohan suddenly yelled into his mic, “dance, dance!! I wanna see!”

Kihyun hummed in agreement. “Dance for us, Hyung.”

They all suddenly gave you some space, making you realize they were serious. You glanced over at Mingi who was watching you like a hawk. His gaze was so intense that you quickly looked away.

You pulled off your trench coat, earning a teasing whistle from Doha. Kihyun took your coat for you as you walked over to the manager who was controlling the speaker. As you whispered the song to him, you walked back to the center and tried to fight back any embarrassment.

You danced in a choker for god sakes, you can do do a short little dance for a crowd of 100 people.

As the song started, Miras went silent in shock.

Miniskirt by AOA.

You immediately began the dance to the chorus, trying your best to fight the urge to laugh. The song cut off after you finished the chorus. It was embarrassing to say the least as you grabbed your mic from off the ground.

Before you could even say anything, Miras immediately began screaming. You shook your head as Kihyun handed over your coat.

“Sexy, Hyung~” Yohan teased, walking over to you as he wrapped his arm around your neck. “When did you learn that dance?”

“You’re not the only one who learns dances in his spare time.” You answered, grinning when Yohan pouted in response.

“Hyung is getting too sexy,” Kihyun suddenly said, “we’ll have to leash him soon.”

Mingi hummed in response, his gaze right on you, “I’ll have to tame him.”

Tame? You blushed at Mingi’s words. Why did he only say I?! If any of the other members noticed, they didn’t say anything. Doha immediately took over with the next question.

The rest of the hour was spent with other silly stuff. You would get a bit more questions this time around which was nice. Yohan and Mingi were now on either side of you.

Yohan still had his arm around your neck, occasionally giving his own questions over to you.

Mingi would just ignore the question to ask you something instead.

It was rounding near the end of the meet, the temperature beginning to drop. You subconsciously pressed closer to Yohan for some warmth. Yohan was only two inches taller than you.

Almost everyone had grown taller than you despite you not noticing.

“Miras, thank you for coming to see us. We have a special announcement coming next week, I hope you’re ready!” You said, grinning.

Miras began yelling out “I love you” to their own bias. This was always your least favorite part, you usually never got anything. It was always so awkward when it was your turn and they ended just giving you a pity “I love you.”

But this time, when it was your turn, it was hardly silent.

A male voice yelled, “사랑해요, (Name)-Ssi♡♡♡!!!”

You stared into the crowd in shock as you tried to see which guy it was before another guy yelled out “I love you” to you. A few more guys yelled it right after them as you felt your lip quiver.

Your eyes welled with tears as you tried your best to deliver a quick “thank you,” only to end up whimpering into the mic instead. You were already crying as Yohan patted your back, tugging you closer.

“Aigoo, you’re so emotional, Hyung.” Yohan joked, though his hand was comforting on your back. You sniffled in his shoulder before wiping at your face. The idea that you’d cry over something so small felt like a sick joke, but here you are.

When you finally parted from Yohan to say goodbye, a hand slipped into yours. You looked over to see Mingi staring straight ahead. His hand tightened around yours.

You almost felt like crying again, which you did. Yohan took over to say the final goodbyes once he realized you couldn’t say anything now.

Mingi kept his grip on your hand tight as you all walked back into the company building. He didn’t let go even when you attempted to pull away.

“Are you okay, Hyung?” Hyojin asked, handing you a tissue. You graciously accepted it and wiped at your face. You did not want to know how pathetic you looked right now.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen guys at our fan meet,” Doha laughed, shaking his head. “Looks like they only came for you.”

You blew your nose before looking over at Doha, “what do you mean?”

“They didn’t say anything for us.” Kihyun said. “They only cared about you.”

They only came for you…? That didn’t—

“(Name), Gaeul and I need to talk with you for a minute.”

You looked back to see your manager walking over to you. His name was Dawon. He was only one year older than you, your only hyung. Miracle had two managers, Dawon and Gaeul. The company thought having Dawon was good, since he was close in age.

Gaeul was near the door, nodding her head as she motioned for you to come over. She was older but only in her mid thirties.

Mingi’s hand suddenly tightened its grip when you made the attempt to pull away. You glanced back over at him, tilting your head. Mingi was staring straight at Dawon, a strange scowl on his face.

What could he be angry about?

Dawon only rolled his eyes. “It’s just a business talk. C’mon, (Name).” He didn’t wait to see if you were coming as he walked over to Gaeul.

“Minnie, let go.” You said, reaching down to gently pry Mingi’s hand away. He subconsciously tightened his grip before pulling away as if he was burned.

Before you could even question why he was acting so strangely, Doha wrapped his arm on Mingi’s shoulder. “We’ll wait for you in the van.”

The others waved as they walked away. It took a minute before Doha could properly pull Mingi away. You only watched, wondering what was happening to your maknae. So weird.

You shook your head and walked over to Dawon and Gaeul. They stopped whatever conversation they had to look over at you. Dawon was good at hiding his emotions so you knew not to look at him for any answers.

Gaeul however was practically bouncing on the ball of her heels. “(Name)! I have good news for you.” She said, a grin spread on her lips.

“What is it?”

“So,” she started, clearing her throat. “You know how I’ve been trying to get the company to stop with the ridiculous boyfriend marketing… and while I haven’t gotten anywhere—they are changing the marketing for you specifically!”

You glanced over at Dawon who only nodded. “Change my marketing? Why are they changing their mind?”

“Because of this!” Gaeul pulled out her phone and showed a picture. It took a minute before you could properly understand what the picture meant.

It was of a list, a ranking of male idols favorited by gay/bisexual men. And you were in top twenty?!

“None of the members ever made it to the top fifty but you shot up to top twenty in only three weeks!” She squealed. “Ever since the whole choker performance, your fancam went viral outside of Miras space and hit it within the gay men community.”

Dawon hummed. “They found you sexy mostly.” He pulled out his own phone to show you something. “The sales of your solo photo book sold out quickly, even though you were usually the one to have more than half left.”

You tried not to be upset at Dawon’s slight dig. It wasn’t like he was wrong.

“But!” Gaeul cut in, the excitement not leaving her face. “They don’t only find you sexy, they find you cute!”

“Was it because of the Cinderella costume?” You asked, frowning slightly.

“No. Well they did like that but someone started posting old videos of you before the company started making you tone down your personality—they love your real personality the most! Almost everyone can tell you’re not stoic at all.” Gaeul hummed.

“Okay…” you muttered, slightly happy at it seemed people could appreciate the real you.. but still, it wasn’t like it was Miras. “Well how are they changing my marketing?”

Dawon patted your back. “They’re making you do a special stage in a month for the comeback.”

“Like a solo song..?”

“Yup! It’s technically a test to how well solo songs in albums will do but also to see just how much these fanboys will do cheer you on.” Gaeul grinned. “Aren’t you excited?! You no longer have to put on a fake act anymore for the cameras.”

“Though it’s not like you were exactly good at it,” Dawon laughed, poking your cheek. “You could only keep the persona for a second before cracking. You’re too sweet.”

You blushed, pushing his hand away. “How will the boys feel about this..? I don’t want to do anything to strain our relationship, it only feels like recently that they’ve…”

“I’ll talk to them.” Dawon said. “I was the one to tell them about you first anyway, I can do it again.”

Gaeul nodded. “I think they’ll be happy for you. Besides you’ve guys done solid stages before when preforming other people’s songs, this time you’re preforming an original song. You’ll finally get solo activities!”

Your ears peaked up at that. Solo activities? Almost everyone else had attended an event or interview by themselves at least once. You had none…

Maybe this was your big break..? Not to leave the group, but to finally not feel like a filler member?

“Anyway,” Gaeul said, breaking your thoughts. “You’ll learn more when we get close to the mini album promotion. All I know is that you’ll preform the solo song before the album comes out to draw out hype.”

That made your heart drop to your ass. You..? You alone?! No one way the company was going to use you to draw out hype. It felt whiplash—the filler member to being used for promotion.

You needed to rest and cry and laugh in excitement and fear.

After promising to not tell the other members until Dawon did, you walked to the van outside. The members didn’t seem to care about what happened or at the very least knew you probably wouldn’t tell them.

You moved to sit down beside Hyojin, putting on your seatbelt. However, just as the driver was about to drive, Mingi suddenly made Hyojin switch seats so now he sat in the middle, you right beside him.

Mingi didn’t say anything as he just pulled out his phone and typed away. You could only stare at him before shaking your head, unable to stop the slight smile on your lips.

He was so clingy.

The drive was quick as you all made it back to the apartment complex. Everyone immediately went to their room, ready to drop dead and sleep.

Mingi seemed to want to take care of you tonight as he decided to cook instead of ordering takeout.

As you watched him cook, being forced to sit down in the dining room when you tried to help, you couldn’t help but wonder why Mingi liked you. You didn’t believe you treated him any different from the others.

Each member had a cute nickname that you gave them.

Hannie for Yohan.

Hyunnie for Kihyun.

Dodo for Doha, (he hated it).

Jinnie for Hyojin.

Minnie for Mingi.

You would take each of them out for solo dinner dates once a month, speaking of which you need to plan them before September ends. Each of them got a thoughtful gift for their birthdays. You gave each of them affection, if they wanted, Doha wasn’t exactly into skinship.

What was it that made Mingi fall for you?

Was it your looks? But you were never complimented on your looks. Past companies even refused you because you didn’t have the ‘idol looks’ despite being a great singer and dancer.

Maybe he just wrongly assumed that he had romantic feelings for you… Yeah, that makes more sense.

No way someone like Mingi could ever—

“—stop thinking.”

Your back straightened up as you felt Mingi’s breath tease the tip of your ear. You stayed still, waiting to see what he was planning to do. How did he even know you were thinking?

“I can’t leave you alone with your thoughts for too long,” Mingi muttered, sighing softly. “You always manage to destroy any self worth I try to build within you.”

“How’d you…?” You whispered.

“There’s a certain face you make.” He said. “It’s obvious now—to me at least. I don’t know about the others. I usually pay attention to you alone.”

“Only me?”

Mingi pulled away from you, walking back to the kitchen. You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. He really was a light walker. Mingi came back after a minute or so with a bowl of noodles. It wasn’t anything extravagant—you guys needed to go grocery shopping.

“Eat, Hyung.” Mingi said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “I’ll be sad if you don’t eat everything.” A smirk pulled on his lips as you grabbed the chopsticks.

Of course he’d guilt trip you. Hopefully the noodles are good.

Mingi sat down across from you, watching you eat.

“Where’s your bowl?”

“I’ll eat after you.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“So I can watch you. You’re cute when you eat.”

“Cute—?!”

“Mhm,” he hummed absentmindedly. “I don’t know why the company made me the ‘golden retriever boyfriend’ it suits you more.”

“The whole assigned personality traits we were given were so stupid.” You said honestly. You always made a point to never talk badly about the company in front of the others. But you thought back to what Mingi had said, he wasn’t a kid anymore.

Maybe you needed to change how you treat him. While he hasn’t directly complained, he must be upset about you treating him as if he was still the clueless naive seventeen year old.

But then you’d have to grapple with the thought that he’d never need you anymore…

That’s all you were good for, being needed? The company had said that you were the last member to be added. They just needed an extra vocalist and you were the only trainee that could carry a high note without straining. You were last place then just like now. Perhaps you’re just scared.

Scared that Mingi and everyone else will realize how much better they would be without you.

“I thought I told you to stop thinking.”

You blinked as you glanced up, seeing an irritated Mingi. He sighed and rolled his eyes. The thought of upsetting him made you forget all about your own self pity. You placed your chopsticks down and stood up, walking over to his side of the table.

Mingi glanced up, raising an eyebrow. He pushed out of his chair but just as he was going to stand up you placed your hand on his shoulder. Despite the confusion on his face, he followed your silent order.

His body was now fully facing you as you knelt down, inches from his legs. Mingi flinched as his eyes widen. In the moment, you weren’t thinking about how he’d take this position.

All you could think about was when you knelt down to him before, back before you all debuted. It was possibly the only time you were ever truthful to him concerning your emotions.

Your hand reached out and grasped his leg, your eyes gazing up at him. “I’m sorry, Mingi. I… I don’t think I can tell you everything now but it’s not your concern that I am this way.”

“Hyung—”

“—let me finish.” You interrupted him. “I put myself on pause when we debuted because I knew I was only there to fill in an extra spot. But I thought that if I took great care of you guys, you all would like me, maybe even appreciate me.. but then I started to like taking care of you guys. I love you all so much but then learning Miras don’t even think about me hurts so much.

“I wish I didn’t care about what others think but watching you and everyone else get the love you deserve… I just want it too.” You finished, resting your head on the inner part of Mingi’s leg.

Mingi flinched but his hand soon brushed against your face. “What about my love?”

You glanced up at him. “Your love..? Mingi, I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t deserve it from you—not someone as special as you.”

“You’re putting me on a pedestal. It’s so fucking annoying.” Mingi sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Pedestal..?”

“Hyung, you’re special to me.” He reached down and grabbed your hand, staring right at you as you blush. “Being by your side of four years, I learned so much about you, that I—”

You quickly press your free hand against Mingi’s mouth, silencing him. He stared at you in disbelief before narrowing his eyes. That word. He was going to say it. It was different hearing it from fans—to hear it from Mingi felt like a joke.

“Don’t… not.. not yet.” You whispered, biting the bottom of your lip.

Mingi released his grip on your other hand as he reached up, grasping your wrist. He stared right at you just as you felt a tongue tease the palm of your hand. You gasp and try to pull away but his hand tightens around your wrist.

His gaze doesn’t soften as he presses soft wet kisses on your hand. You can only whimper and watch. He trails a kiss up to your wrist before reaching your arm.

You blush, feeling his lips now trail up your arm. He left light bites, occasionally suckling on the skin. Your lower body flinched as you tried to pull your arm away. But his grip doesn’t loosen. In fact, he tugs you even closer.

Your body slipped further between his legs as he reached the tip of your shoulder. He wasted no time before tugging you to stand up. His hands grip your waist before you could attempt to pull away.

His hands gently push your shirt up as he pressed a wet kiss on your stomach. “I can just show you how much I appreciate you.”

“Mingi…” You whimpered, your eyes widening.

“Mhm?” He chuckled. “C’mon, let me do this.”

Mingi returned to leaving soft kisses on your stomach, biting at your skin. One of his hands grasping your jeans as he unbuckled it. Your hands gripped at his shoulders as you simply watched him pull your pants down enough for your boxers to be free.

His hands eagerly grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading it. “It’s is fat…. Those pants they put you in flatten your ass, Hyung.”

“Mingi…! Don’t—!”

“—Don’t what?” His hands grasp your briefs as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room.

You shrieked, attempting to pull away but that didn’t work with Mingi’s arms around your hips. He hummed in satisfaction as he tore the rest of your briefs off. The torn briefs fell to your feet as you stood half nude in front of your maknae.

This had to be a joke!

“You’re smaller than I thought.” Mingi suddenly said.

“Smaller?!” You cried out, feeling a sharp hit at your self-confidence. While you knew you might’ve been on the smaller side—hearing someone else say it wasn’t exactly nice.

A kiss on your cock caused you to flinch, watching as Mingi kissed the entirety of your lower half. Right on your hips and close to your inner thighs.

“So pretty, Hyung.” He whispered against your skin. “Pretty just for me.” His hands grasped your hips as he licked the tip of your cock.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you gripped at his shirt. Your first ever blowjob by your maknae… holy shit.

The thought should’ve made you throw up but instead you were feeling anything but.

“Wait, wait..” You whined pathetically just as Mingi began to suck on your tip. Your body tensed as a strained moan left your tightly closed lips. Mingi pulled away, watching as your cock began to leak before pathetically cumming.

The cum dripped onto the floor as you took a deep breath, embarrassment rising in your chest. Holy shit, you came… you came before anything really happened!

You tried to rationalize it to yourself. You’ve never even held hands with a partner and while you masturbated, you had never been touched by someone else.

But Mingi wouldn’t have known that! And you weren’t exactly eager to tell your maknae that you were an inexperienced virgin… especially that he was your first kiss.

“Hyung…”

You glanced down at Mingi, ready for him to look at you weirdly when your breath hitched. He was staring at you like you were a full course meal. It reminded you of the video of you dancing on stage while he watched.

“Are you… inexperienced?” He asked, obviously trying to not embarrass you. His grip subconsciously tightened on your waist when you tried to move away.

“S..So what if I am..” you whispered.

Mingi smirked. “I thought you just knew how to hide your partners.. but you really were celibate.”

“S..So..? It’s not a big deal..” you wanted to put some clothes on now. “It’s nothing serious, I mean I gave you my first kiss.”

Time seemed to stop after your confession.

His grip felt harsh, nails digging into your skin.

“I’m… Hyung.. you don’t know what this information does to me.” He whispered, pressing his head against your stomach. Now that you couldn’t see his face, you wondered if he was upset.

It took a minute before he sighed, pulling away, staring right up at you.

“I’m going to fuck you, Hyung. But I need to get you ready for that.”

“Huh?!” You cried out, blushing heavily. “R..Ready?! Why?”

Mingi’s jaw tightened. “Because if I fucked you right now, especially with how inexperienced you are, I’ll scare you away… and I can’t fuck you tonight because I want you to choke on my dick.”

You sputtered, eyes widening. “Choi Mingi!”

“Hong (Name).” He smirked. “I’ll get you ready for me, Hyung… and once you’re ready..”

His teeth brushed against your skin as you flinched, unable to pull away due to his death grip.

“I’ll ruin you so that you won’t want to taste anyone else but me.”

Your sweet and innocent maknae was nothing like himself back when he was seventeen. Those stupid NSFW accounts were fucking right! He did want you.

You were screwed.

Literally, but you seemed to be making no effort to truly stop him.

Four years ago

Choi Mingi didn’t like you at first. How could he when Miracle was set to debut as five? He was already close to his other hyungs, why does he need another one? Especially one that was taking away half of his lines in the debut.

The other members, besides Hyojin, were also not too keen on your late addition to the group. Hyojin just didn’t care all that much in general.

Yohan was the most angry, he was the leader and now he was losing it to you! Someone he didn’t even know.

The first meet the group was going to have with you was with the choreographer. Luckily they hadn’t started teaching it but the choreographer had to change it to accommodate six people.

Mingi was particularly angry as they got to the practice room. He walked into the room only to notice the others seemed oddly quiet..? At seventeen he was still a bit short so he had to push through to the front to see what the commotion was.

And.. woah? From what he had heard from other trainees, you were supposedly ‘ugly’ in the company’s eyes, that’s why you hadn’t debuted.

But uh, he didn’t understand that at all seeing you front of him. You were cute, so fucking cute as you laughed at whatever the choreographer said to you.

Through the entire dance practice/meeting, he watched you like a hawk. Everyone except Hyojin didn’t say anything to you. Hyojin acted normal and treated you like a person, not some enemy.

But Mingi was stubborn—he wasn’t going to talk to you. He plopped down on the couch during the short break, pulling out his phone only for it to slip onto the ground. He groaned, sitting with his legs far apart as he tried to gain the willpower to get his phone.

However he didn’t need to when you kneeled down between his legs, grabbing the phone. You handed it over to him. Your eyes gazing up at him as you gave him a slight smile, obviously a bit nervous.

To think that the company said you didn’t have an ‘idol image!’ You were so handsome—no, cute. You were so cute that Mingi wondered if you’d end up getting the golden retriever persona he was given. It would suit you so much more than him.

Mingi reached over to take his phone from your hand. You leaned in closer, your free hand moving to rest on Mingi’s leg when you almost lost your balance. Mingi’s body tensed as he felt your warmth, of course he had to wear shorts.

“Sorry, Mingi-Ssi.” You said, your voice soft and sweet. Your singing voice was probably perfect. After handing over his phone, you stood up and walked over to Hyojin.

Mingi quickly closed his legs now that you were gone.

He had a fucking boner.

Yall don’t even gotta ask. Writing part 2 immediately, it’s a slow burn in that there’s not gonna no penetration sex just yet. Part 2 gonna have more cross dressing/NSFW tweets, this lowkey is a setup lmaoo

Tag list:

@secretivemessenger @euthymiko @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @cherry-blossoms-187 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @remdayz @tomoeroi @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @kiiyoooo @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @glittervame @love-kha1



[cmdrfupa]

Kento took a step forward when he notices that his blonde hair is slowly getting to a pale silver. The roots shining as he intently stares at the first few streaks in the mirror. A slight frown of surprise crosses his face as he runs his fingers through it, almost trying to see if they are real, contemplating the significance of this unexpected change.

“Remember we’ve got 2 potential homebuyers coming today after 3. Did you want to move anything around before then?” You spoke gently as you walked towards the bathroom noticing Kento look at himself. “Ken?”

His strict and rigid lifestyle had shaped his existence for years, but this moment marked a stark contrast to the strict regimen he's lived by. It's as if his hair was reflecting the toll of the pressure and stress he's endured.

It's a jarring sight, a symbol of the transformation he's undergoing.

“Did you notice these? The grays?”

You reached up, catching the close shave of his undercut and smile at his reflection. “We’re on each other practically every 2 seconds. Of course I noticed.”

“And you said nothing?” Eyebrow raised, Kento turned to you and kissed your palm. “Big fan of old man Kento?”

“Pffft, please.” The chuckle you let out was a slice of life to him. “I thought you were hot when you were 26 and I still think you’re hot at 44. You’re becoming a silver fox.”

He laughed but he was completely preoccupied by this new found piece of himself.

He was aging.

“Stop thinking, baby.”

“I’m not, honey.”

You squint. “Let me reiterate. Stop overthinking.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist from the side, resting your head on his chest. “When did we get to this point? I qualify for silver fox status after what feels like we just finished school.”

You bring your fingers up the back of his head and gently graze his scalp. “Years of wisdom and achievement via your roots. I have a few of my own sprouting at the center of my head. You’ve conquered a lot in life. I think it looks great on you.”

These hints of aging didn’t represent a loss of youth, but rather a testament to the years of life he'd lived and survived. Evidence of a journey filled with memories and growth. He starts to see the gray hair not as a symbol of decline, but as a badge of honor, a mark of the wisdom and resilience he's gained along the way. He kissed your cheek and lifted you up.

“A house, putting a kid through college, buying property on the beach,” He helped you onto the bathroom counter and smiled. “The grays are like a trophy.”

“A trophy, exactly, Mr. Nanami. Though I feel like we are missing a big key factor here.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

You leaned in, gently kissing his jawline. “You’re totally a DILF now. I have the hottest dad in this city.”