#so far i've written down concepts for like

[tooobster]

WHAT IF I MAKE MY OWN TMNT AU THEN WHAT??

THEN WHAT???????????

[fiepige]

Wanted to write a quick noirpunk blurb but now I'm 4 pages in and actually considering making it a full blown fic instead.

I don't think it would be that long but I've still got a couple of things to add so I feel like I might just make it a fic at this point.

[vjonk]

a couple of progress photos of my gabriel cosplay:

[hard-core-super-star]

the good, the bad, and the dirty [kinktober special]

pairing: sugardaddy!kate bishop x sub!reader x dom!wanda maximoff x dom!carol danver x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: kate might be young and inexperienced but she's a damn good negotiator. so, in search of a merger that will catapult bishop security to the top of the food chain, she shares her most prized possession with the other CEOs.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI -> porn with almost no plot but a bit of exposition; slightly dubcon at first but consent is given!; kate being far too cocky for her own good; daddy kink [kate]; mommy kink [wanda]; fingering [R receiving]; cunnilingus [R receiving]; mentions of humiliation; so many petnames; praise + degradation; brief choking; voyeurism; a dash of petplay/R being referred to as "pet"; implied dom/sub dynamics

wordcount: 3.5k

a/n: hihihi, it's me again! i thought my last fic was the smuttiest fic i'd ever written but i think this one takes the cake. it's an idea i've been toying with for a long time and i'm very excited to send it out to the world. there's so much more i want to do with this concept so the ending is a little open. SPEAKING OF! i'm pretty sure i'll end up writing a part two to my recent wandanat fic so keep an eye out for that. anyway, hope you enjoy <3 [and like always, feel free to share your thoughts via my inbox]

* * * * * * *

Never in your life would you have imagined you'd end up being the girlfriend of one of New York's youngest, and richest, CEOs. More than that, you would have never imagined you'd agree to being her sugar baby. And yet...here you were.

In your defense, Kate Bishop could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Especially when she wanted something.

You're not sure what about you captivated her so much but you hadn't been able to shake her off after your first meeting. There was nothing even particularly exciting about how you met.

You had gone into a ridiculously expensive, and awfully busy, coffee shop around Fifth Avenue in search of a good drink and a sweet pastry to take the sting off of being fired yet again. In your frustration, you hadn't noticed Kate's speeding form and she'd ended up running into you.

Thankfully, there was no coffee spilled, but that didn't stop the brunette from offering you far too many apologies in a short span of time. You'd never been particularly bold and yet, you told her she could buy you a drink to make up for it.

Your boldness was rewarded by the young CEO and before you knew it, Kate had become a part of your daily routine.

The relationship slowly progressed into something less sweet the more time you spent with her. The more you got to learn about her desires, about her need to take care of her partner in every way possible.

Her trauma probably had a lot to do with that, but instead of spending her money on therapy, she spent it on you. Hence her transition from supportive girlfriend to devoted sugar daddy.

It might not the world's greatest arrangement, by any means, but there's no denying your fondness for the young CEO. 

Sure, she can be reckless and borderline cruel when she wants to be, but for all her flaws, she feels like...safety.

It's what keeps you coming back to her. It's not the money, or the expensive toys, or the endless gifts, or even her looks. It's the way she can read you with a single look. The way she's so fine-tuned to everything that makes you tick. Whether it's in the bedroom or outside of it, Kate knows you. 

More than that, she relishes in it. In knowing you better than you know yourself and guiding you through the ups and downs that come with a relationship like yours.

There's nothing Kate loves more than surprising you with things you've always wanted to try but can never ask for. She gets the usual rush of power that she loves so much, but she also gets to please you, which you're quickly learning matters to her far more than anything else.

Maybe that's why you should have known what she wanted when she asked you to come to the office with her. You knew she had an important meeting set for later in the day, something about a business proposal she was trying to finish up, but she asked you to come with her anyway.

Everything was normal until she felt for her meeting, only to ask you to come into the room a few minutes later.

You obeyed pretty much instantly, but your obidience didn't take away your nervousness as you stepped into the room.

"Come here, princess." Kate's voice is sweet but no less firm as her eyes rake up and down your body.

The underlying command in her words can't be ignored, not that you'd try even if you could. 

You're acutely aware of the eyes trained on you as you make your way over to the brunette. The smirk on her face is far more attractive than it has any right to be and she happily extends her hand out to you once you're close enough.

She helps you climb onto her lap, your back flush against her front. The warmth of her body helps your tense muscles relax as you sink back against her.

"Good girl," she murmurs, her arms wrapping loosely around your waist. "Just sit here and look pretty for me, okay?"

You hum in response and do your best to keep your nervous fidgeting to a minimum.

The meeting resumes as if nothing happened and yet the other women's eyes seem to return to you every few seconds. You try to keep your head down and ignore their looks, but there's a certain fire in them that you can't ignore.

Wanda's gaze seems particularly intense and it makes your thighs clench together despite how badly you don't want them to.

If anybody notices, they don't say anything. Kate's hand makes its way onto your lap, though, her fingers slowly tracing shapes across your thighs.

"You can't be serious, Kate," you hear Natasha say. "A merger will never work."

"Why not?" Kate questions. "We've all got the means to support it and I doubt jealousy will be an issue."

"You sure about that?" Carol asks, her eyes trailing back and forth between you and the young CEO.

Kate's grip on you tightens for a second and you barely hold back a gasp as she lifts your leg up, slowly maneuvering you until your legs are spread and you're completely vulnerable to their gazes. "It's why we're all here, isn't it? I have something you guys want and I want you to accept my proposal. I think there's a way for all of us to get exactly what we want."

"Kate," you whisper, your hand shooting down to grab her wrist.

She shushes you before placing a series of feather-light kisses to your neck. "It's alright, baby. Just trust me."

You do trust her, but no amount of trust can make the situation any less nerve wracking. It's impossible to deny your attraction to the other women, though, and as much as you hate to admit it...a part of you is really interested to see how things will play out.

Kate's never been good at sharing her toys and you can't imagine her possessive instincts won't get triggered once things get started.

You're eager to find out and judging by the way she's squirming under you, your lover feels exactly the same way.

"What do you say, ladies?" The brunette asks. "I'll let you have your fun and then we can get back to business. And by business, I, of course, mean you accepting my proposal."

The three women exchange looks, each of them wearing a different kind of incredulous look. Carol looks surprisingly impressed, Natasha's gaze is glued to the spot between your legs, and Wanda seems mostly amused by it all.

None of them seem particularly against the idea, though, and your blood boils with a different kind of heat. You've never felt more desired in your life.

And sure, maybe, you should feel a little humiliated too but you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when you've secretly fantasized about this for longer than you'll ever let yourself admit.

"And you're sure about this?" Wanda asks, her eyes moving from Kate to you. "Both of you?"

Kate's fingers stop moving, leaving you suspended in the air as you try to catch your breath. The check-in is more than appreciated and you allow yourself to think things over. To truly analyze the situation in front of you.

Unfortunately, the situation in front of you is far too intoxicating for you to be able to think properly. All you can focus on is how incredible their attention feels, how weirdly powerful their desire makes you feel. You don't know it, but you've got them all wrapped right around your finger.

They would do anything for you.

"I'm sure," you say, your voice slightly shaky. "I'm in if you are."

"Told you," Kate says. "My good girl isn't afraid of getting a little naughty."

Her words make you clench around nothing, your thighs attempting to close to ease some of the growing ache settled between in your core. The brunette doesn't let you get too far, though. Her hands drift down to grip your thighs, slowly spreading them wider until you're fully spread out on her lap.

The position leaves you vulnerable and far more aroused than you ever thought you would be. Along the way, your skirt had moved up, giving the three CEOs a tantalizing view of your soaked panties.

Carol groans at the sight of you. "Fuck, look at her, she's drenched."

Her words have an instant effect on you and Kate's nails dig into your skin in an attempt to get you to stop squirming so much.

"She's desperate for you," your lover points out almost absentmindedly. "Are you guys gonna stop stalling, or should I give you a preview of what our deal will give you access to?"

"You're getting cocky, Bishop," Natasha says with a low chuckle. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Do you?" Kate bites back, her fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh until they reach the soaked fabric of your panties.

The gasp you let out is instantaneous and the sound seems to echo across the large meeting room. It's just one small sound and yet it seems to ignite the same thought in each of the CEOs.

"Fine," Wanda says. "We'll play your game. But don't be surprised when your little girlfriend ends up hooked on us."

 The green-eyed woman's words made Kate laugh. "Trust me, the last thing I'll be is surprised if that happens."

Their conversation did little to soothe your growing need. 

Kate obviously knows that, considering the way she continues teasing you, callused fingers hovering over your aching clit. Your underwear is practically stuck to your slick folds already, giving everyone a perfect view of your dripping entrance.

"Come on, baby." The brunette's breath hits your ear. "You know what you have to do."

You do know. But that doesn't make it any less humiliating. Then again, the slight sting of humiliation also makes it feel better.

"Please," you whimper. "Please touch me. I need you."

Carol can't even try to hold herself back after hearing that. She instantly jumps up from her seat, her smile so sweet it borders on dangerous. "Don't worry, honey, I'll give you exactly what you're begging for."

You're not sure what to expect from her as she approaches you. You watch silently, Kate's hands keeping you spread wide open and grounded in the moment.

"Such a good girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" Carol sinks down onto her knees in front you, instantly leaning in to trail her lips across your inner thigh. "So responsive. It's cute."

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of her mouth on your skin. Her touch is different from Kate's, no less adoring but far less hesitant. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly what to do to get it. She doesn't even need to ask.

Her fingers drag your ruined underwear to the side and she groans as your cunt is finally exposed to her eager eyes. "Fuck, Kate, how do you not spend all day buried inside her?"

The feeling of a hand wrapping around your throat makes you jump. Your eyes open only to be met with Wanda's dark gaze, her lips curling upward as you relax once more. She doesn't speak her approval but the soft squeeze she gives you is more than enough for you.

"I've done it before," Kate admits. "Pretty sure I've fucked her in every corner of my office."

"That's because you're impatient," Natasha says. "And reckless."

The older woman doesn't sound particularly amused by what's happening in front of her, but you don't miss the way she keeps palming at her crotch. Just because she doesn't seem to pleased by this idea doesn't mean she isn't enjoying the show.

Carol steals all your thoughts away in an instant as her tongue makes contact with your folds. You both moan at the feeling and your hands reach out to grip her hair before you can stop them.

Kate stops them for you, though. She grips your wrists and brings them behind your back without a word. 

The blonde between your legs takes advantage of this and her hands make their way onto your thighs. Your hips buck even as she holds you down, her tongue drawing teasing circles around your swollen clit.

"Hands behind your back, baby," Kate mumbles. "Just let them use you. It''s what you want, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Good girl." 

The praise doesn't come from the brunette, it comes from Natasha and the sound of her approval makes your walls clench around nothing.

"Come on, 'Tasha, stop being such a grump," Wanda says with a roll of her eyes. "We can all tell you're enjoying the show."

"I still don't approve of this."

"You don't have to approve of it to have a good time, detka."

The redhead narrows her eyes, a silent warning in her gaze. Wanda seems unfazed by it, though, clearly more than used to the other woman's prickly personality. "You're worse than the Bishop girl."

Their conversation is interrupted when Carol pushes her tongue inside your tight entrance, drawing out a desperate moan from your throat. Even with her tight grip on your thighs, you manage to buck your hips into her face, nothing but pure desperation driving your movements.

It's a little embarrassing how close you already are to falling apart, but it's not like you can help it. Not when they've all been doing their best to drive you crazy since you walked into the meeting room.

Wanda gives your throat a gentle squeeze in an attempt to bring you attention back to her. "I think someone's getting a little ahead of themselves."

"That tends to happen when she's needy like this," Kate says, easily offering up details of your sex life as if it's nothing.

"Cute." Her free hand finds its way between your legs, her fingers teasing your clit and causing you to cry out once more. "You still need to beg for it, sweetheart."

Your response is instantaneous.

"Please, can I cum?" You beg, ignoring how humiliating it feels.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, baby, Wanda's not easily impressed." Your lover's hands find their way under your shirt and she slowly caresses your heated skin. It's a small thing, but it's designed to remind you she's right there, looking after you and making sure you're okay.

Carol's tongue continues exploring your cunt as Wanda continues playing with your clit, both of them working in tandem to drive you absolutely out of your mind. It works far too well, considering how difficult it is for you to form words.

To top it all off, Kate's hands move up to play with your breasts while Natasha keeps eye contact with you. It's almost like she's challenging you to keep yourself together when it's so obvious that you're an inch away from losing all control over yourself.

As much as you might move being stubborn, there's no way for you to win out over the pleasure. No way to stop yourself from sinking deeper and deeper into their control.

"Please, mommy," you whine before you even know what you're doing. "Please let me cum for you. I wanna be your good girl. Please-"

Despite how messy and borderline incoherent your pleas are, they all take pity on you and wordlessly decide to give you what you want.

"Good girl. Cum for us, sweetheart."

Your body instantly responds to her words, even though she's not usually the person you ask permission from. Kate doesn't seem to care, though, her eager eyes taking in the blissful expression on your face as you let go for them.

"That's my good girl, I'm so proud of you, you're perfect." The brunette continues to whisper endless praises as Carol draws out your orgasm, happily cleaning you up as you make a mess of yourself.

Your body trembles in Kate's lap, chest heaving as the remaining waves of pleasure make their way through you. You're pretty sure you've never had an experience as intense as this one, no orgasm as absolutely breathtaking. (Not that you'll ever tell them that, they're way too competitive to handle the information.)

The hand that's wrapped around your throat moves up, gently tilting your chin until yuo're forced to look up at Wanda. Her usually vibrant eyes are dark and you can practically see every dirty thought that flashes across her mind. No one has to say it out loud for you to know you're far from done.

"You're so fuzzy already, aren't you?" The older woman asks, even though she already knows the answer.

Her thumb brushes your lower lip and you part your lips for her. A warm chuckle slips out of her as you take her thumb into your mouth, your eager submission plastered all over your face.

You can hear Kate's voice, no doubt trying to convince Natasha to take the stick out of her ass and have fun, but your focus is entirely placed on Wanda's eyes and Carol's lips trailing up and down your trembling thighs.

You're not sure how much time goes by like that, with your mind completly submerged under the comfort and safety they all provide you with. All at once, though, things pick up again.

Wanda steps back from you, drawing a whine out of your lips when she takes her thumb with her, and Carol effortlessly picks you up from Kate's lap, strong muscles flexing under her tight shirt. You enjoy enjoy the sight as she carries you over to the meeting table.

She sets you down on the edge of the ornate table and her hands start undressing you before you can even comprehend what's happening. You've always made fun of Kate for being too impatient but the blonde might have her beat considering the way she practically rips your shirt off of you in her hurry.

"Hey!" Your lover pipes up. "That was expensive."

"You talk too much," Natasha says.

It's not until you hear her talk again that you realize she's taken your spot on Kate's lap. Despite the position, there's no doubt who's in control between the two of them. You're sure you've never seen the young CEO so submissive before.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't an instant turn on.

Your legs wrap around Carol once she manages to undress you, pulling her closer to you with an impatience that rivals hers.

"You're gorgeous, baby," she mumbles as her hands explore your chest, her fingers twisting and pulling at your hardened nipples. "I can't get enough of you."

"Carol," you groan, trying to pull at her clothes only to be pushed onto your back.

"Don't tell me you forgot about me, sweetheart," Wanda teases. 

There's a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she watches you struggle to comprehend what's happening. It's not like it's surprising considering how hazy they've left you. How thoughtless they've rendered you.

"Aw, Wands, she was enjoying the show," Carol coos, her fingers spreading your folds open to reveal how wet you are. Again.

"Is that right?" Natasha's voice sounds far too close despite the distance. If you try hard enough, you can see her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure while Kate nips at her neck. "You like watching your daddy be put in her place?"

You nod but Wanda's subtle eyebrow raise is a command you can't ignore. "Yes, I like it. Wanna watch."

"That's adorable...but I'm not quite done with you yet."

Carol doesn't give you a chance to process her words before she's plunging two of her fingers deep inside your sensitive cunt, her groans mixing with your moans and drowning out the sounds of Kate pleasuring Natasha.

Wanda's left out for the moment, busying herself with removing her clothes as she takes in the scene in front of her. She's sure she's never seen a more sucessful business meeting before. None of them will admit it, but Kate's idea was perfect.

[meo-eiru]

*cracks knuckles* here I am again. this time with Micah as my victim

so at first,

you definitely should add some more story to him. so far, if I'm being honest, he feels a bit too plain to me. but oh boy, what a potential I see here!

alright lets begin

omg look at him! such a hypocrite! how smart it is, to put all blame on MC while being just as (actually even more) sinful. and he sure hides well; it's your fault, isn't it? oh you and your sinful mind.

buut despite him not really being my cup of tea, I still do like a good old concept of ugly insides, hidden behind a beautiful shell (if that's the vibe you were going for).

Micah seems so pure, so holy, almost like an angel (you played smart by adding a lot of white in his design) – but behind that pristine facade? he's ugly. and that shell eventually starts to crack, because no matter how pure he may seem, Micah is just as human as we are, and definitely not a good one. and what are we, if not a bunch of cruel, egotistical animals? and deep inside he's exactly that, sickeningly human. with that in mind the very first comic you did abt him is actually pretty hilarious to me. your desires? what about his desires, which are strong enough to ruin your whole life?

I kinda feel like he's also a little pathetic in his own way; if he can't make you fall for him, he will break you. isn't it like a very cowardly move? he wants you badly enough to use whatever method it may require to have you, but will never admit it.

but let's talk about that strange desire to destroy MC's purity. why? to make you just as dirty as he is? cute, but doesn't seem like a full explanation to me. he's a priest, right? and even despite those dark insides of his, I feel like Micah still kept at least some of the priest mindset. I mean, they're raised and taught with a very strict discipline. so I feel like deep down, he feels bad (not ashamed, but in a "how dare they" way) for his attraction to you, and punishes you for that attraction. it's not your fault, of course, but who cares? you managed to destroy his perfect, clean facade, which he was methodically building for his whole life with simply your existence. isn't that unfair? so now you must fall into the depths of hell with him.

I like how we can't justify him. Micah is perfectly aware of what he is doing. and of twisted nature of his feelings too, I think, yet still chooses to indulge in his desires, even if it hurts you, the person he was supposed to love and cherish. he makes me feel an absolute, poetic rage, and I love a character I can hate. (don't get me wrong, it meant to be a praise)

and I absolutely adore his design. also if I was on point with the idea you meant for him, that is wonderful too. if a character makes me feel something, I like that character. but girl, you really should add more details about him. because everything I've written here is, basically, just my own brainstorming and bare theories. Micah needs to have more meat on him for a full character analysis >_>

but anyway, I actually have a question.

what if MC wasn't in any way pure? what if they're a complete opposite of that word? count it on my love for hunchback of notre dame

unlike the nun MC, I suggest a MC who fully embraces their sins. like an evil succubus, they enjoy the joys of being tainted. they know what influence they have on their dear Father Micah, and isn't ashamed of that. I feel like that would make a pretty interesting story

(cough cough draw him blushing and moaning and my life is yours darling)

Another absolutely incredible ask I'll have a field day answering.

I do agree with him being a bit under developed at the moment. Micah was a bit unfortunate as in he was never meant to be an actual character. He was just a momentary creation who existed for me to study color theory. A beautiful man of flowers who didn't have an identity.

Then he joined the cast when I was busy with working on commissions and the 5k celebration comic so I didn't have the time to draw his introduction comic with the things I had planned for him, though I've been trying my best to explore him a bit more thru asks like this one. The fact that I don't want to spoil the stuff I'll draw in his comic is also holding me back a little.

I think Micah is evil, but not completely bad. A man who was born twisted, who was raised into goodness, and even with all the love he received never truly got rid of his inner darkness, but just once, just for one moment, I think he had good in his heart. And that is when he first saw you.

With all his twistedness, all his evilness, all his darkness, I think that love he felt for you was truly pure. Because in his eyes you appeared truly beautiful, like a pure lily.

But Micah isn't a pure man, neither does he want to be. So he prefers to pull you down to his level, so that you two can be sinful together. A truly impure way of feeling that pure and innocent love.

I have gotten asks about him with a more rowdy darling, one who isn't a nun or one who is more sinful. I've been really brainstorming about it but I don't think it would work. Not because I personally can't force the story into being like that but because I think it was just not meant to be like that.

You see I do come up with the characters, but I don't control their actions. If the character is unwilling I can't shape the story to my will. Because that story is their life and they control it. The best I can do is to try to fill the gaps I can.

I might prefer submissive yanderes, I might want Micah to have a more sinful darling instead but it wouldn't be Micah's story anymore. That's one of the reasons why he's so different from the rest of the boys. I'm not super into very dominant guys, I could probably count the ones I have with one hand, it wasn't my intention for Micah to be the way he is, but I don't think he could've been any other way.

Micah was just meant to be manipulative, a gaslighter, a dirty man who'll pull anything to push you below him.

I guess me looking at my stories from an actual novel or manga perspective also contributes to this. Father Micah exists to shine with a darling who he can soil.

Now the darling can maybe go against him in the future, she might rebel or give in to his sinful ways, but that's a different story.

[fireboltposts]

When SKZ finds your well-organized Korean notes

A/N : This idea randomly popped up in my head when I was learning my Spanish. Picture credit to the owner. Also this is the first time I've tried writing for all the members together.

• Where each member suddenly stumbles upon your neat and well-organized notes for learning Korean. They knew you were studying but didn't realise you went so far as to maintaining an old diary of 2013 for writing down random notes, swear words, grammar rules, slangs, idioms, vocabulary, tests where you had graded yourself with a red pen with marks like 16/20 or 19/25 and your signature like a school teacher and even some phrases learnt from the boys.

• Chris

He found your Korean diary on a random Tuesday evening while he was searching for his laptop charger. He wondered what on earth were you doing with a 2013 diary when he had gifted you the latest one on New Year's Day. Not one to read someone's diary, but his interest was piqued because of a SKZ bookmark hanging out of the diary. He opens it curiously, flipping through the pages that contained grammar rules, self-graded tests with your signature (which he can't help but giggle at), and even an entire section labelled "what Channie taught me", containing phrases and words he had previously taught you, that he himself had forgotten, which little notes on the side in pencil on how to pronounce stating that "Channie says it like this". He smiles to himself, feeling a surge of warmth as he realizes you're working so hard to understand and connect with him and the group on a deeper level. He chuckles at the part where you had stated that he says a word in a certain tone and he's a little surprised to see how observant you were to how he spoke Korean that you had noticed such little things even he didn't know. He is moved by your dedication and effort. It meant so much to him that you wanted to understand him better and also the rest of the boys.

• Minho

Minho's looking around your room when his eyes fall on a notebook open on your bed, with pages full of neat handwriting. Intrigued, he walks over and begins to look through them, noting how well-organized and thoughtful each section is. The color-coding in different color ink, the little drawings, and the way you’ve broken down each concept and it’s clear you’ve put a lot of effort into learning. He spots a few phrases he's used like "Don't be silly" written in Hangul. He feels a strange pride in knowing that you had gone through so much trouble of noting down things he has said and how observant you were to the other members' words and he feels a soft warmth on his chest. When you notice him looking, he gives you an approving nod. "Your notes are impressive," he says, with a faint smile. "You’re serious about learning, huh? I respect that." He’s not overly sentimental, but there’s a hint of admiration in his tone. "Just make sure you don’t learn any bad habits from the guys. I'll teach you the proper way to speak," he adds with a teasing glint in his eyes and you roll your eyes with a smile on your lips.

• Changbin

Changbin flips your notes open curiously and starts reading. The first thing he notices is how neatly you've written grammar concepts and phrases with example sentences using names from the K industry like "Changbin ate an apple", "Joshua cannot swim", "Jaejoong, go to the market !". As he goes through, he can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for your dedication. You’ve put in so much work, and it’s clear that you’re genuinely interested in understanding the language. He chuckles when he sees a section labeled "Cute Phrases learnt from Binnie," where you’ve written down a few things he’s said, noting them with little hearts and stars. When you return, he grins at you, holding up the notebook. "These are really impressive," he says, giving you an encouraging smile. "You’ve put in a lot of effort. If you keep it up, you’ll be fluent in no time!". There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he looks at you, feeling touched that you care so much about connecting with him and the rest of the group in their language.

• Hyunjin

Hyunjin finds your notes when you’re both sitting on the couch. He’s flipping through some things on the table when he spots them, open to a section on descriptive words. At first, he’s just curious, but as he goes through them, he realizes how detailed your notes are. You’ve even added pronunciation tips in English and marked down specific tones you’d heard him use, adding little side notes in pencil like, "Try to sound softer, like Hyunjin." Seeing his own influence in your notes makes his heart race. He’s touched to know you’re paying so much attention to the language, even noting his speaking style. There’s something endearing about how you’re working so hard to speak Korean well, not just to understand him but to match his expressions too. "Wow, you’re really serious about this, huh?" he murmurs, glancing over at you with a soft smile. He leans in closer, resting his chin on his hand as he flips through more pages, admiring your hard work. "If you ever want a study buddy, I’d be happy to help. Maybe I could teach you some new words too… you know, personal ones that only we would know or swear words, whichever you want", he winks, enjoying the thought of having something special shared between the two of you.

• Han

Han stumbles upon your notes one day while you’re hanging out. He flips through them casually, but the more he reads, the more impressed he becomes. Your notes are detailed, organized, and incredibly thorough. You’ve written down vocabulary, grammar rules, and even broken down complex sentences into parts. He’s particularly amused when he sees a section labeled "Funny Phrases" with things he’s said, complete with little notes like, "Han said this when he was being silly." He feels a warmth in his chest, touched that you’ve been paying attention to his quirks and speech patterns. When he looks up at you, there’s a playful glint in his eye. "I didn’t know you were working this hard!" he exclaims. "Your notes are so good; I think I’d actually want to borrow them myself!". Han’s admiration is genuine, and he’s a little flustered by how much he enjoys seeing your dedication. "Anytime you want to practice with me, let me know," he offers, giving you a shy smile. "We could make it fun, you know, with little games and stuff and next time I'll take a test and put my signature on there and an A+ and a smiley if you get it all correct", he said with a wink.

• Felix

When Felix flips through the pages and finds your neat handwriting in Hangul , he's charmed by how much dedication you've put into it, especially when he saw you noted expressions and idioms he used labelled as "Sunshine Lixie's expressions", complete with little stars. His heart flutters at the sight. "Your notes are amazing!" he says, his eyes lighting up. "It’s so cool that you’re learning, and it’s adorable how you even have a section just for my phrases." He pats your shoulder proudly, feeling touched and a bit shy. "I could help you practice anytime you want," he adds, his voice softening, secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

• Seungmin

Seungmin finds your notes by accident when he’s helping you clean up after a study session. He notices them lying open on the table and can’t resist taking a look. As he reads through the pages, he’s impressed by your organization and the level of detail. You’ve made vocabulary lists, highlighted grammar points, and even written down little notes to help you remember certain words. He brings it up later, saying, "Your notes are really impressive. You’re actually doing a great job, and if you keep at it, I think you’ll become fluent in no time." He looks at you thoughtfully, adding, "If you ever need help with pronunciation or understanding something or maybe adding some more to the "Seungmin's Tips" list, I’d be happy to help."

• Jeongin

When the maknae finds your neat diary that you've kept for learning Korean, he is a little surprised but also very impressed at you progress as the self graded "test scores" went higher and as he also remembers some difficult words meant for upper Intermediate learners you'd used a week ago while talking to him. He chuckles when he sees his own "Innie’s Words" section, where you’ve noted down phrases he’s said. Later, he brings it up with a smile, saying, "Your notes are really detailed. It’s so cool that you’re putting in so much effort to learn our language." There’s a sense of pride in his voice as he looks at you, genuinely impressed by your dedication. "If you ever need help, I’m here. I could even teach you some more slang, if you’re up for it Y/N ! And next time, I hope to see you score full marks on your little self tests".

A/N : Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you liked it. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[sugarnspice630]

Fancall Fiasco - Hongjoong

"Fan service my ass! Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?"

•pairing: meandom!nonidol!hongjoong x idol!fem!reader

•word count: 4k

•tags: reader has an idol stage name that they go by, established relationship, mdni, smut, dirty filthy pure smut, possesive and MEAN hongjoong, degradation, name calling (whore, slut, cheater, etc), hair pulling, oral (m&f receiving), deep throating, belt restraints, spanking, slight spitting, edging, overstimulation, biting/marking up (f receiving), slight cnc(?)...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Being an idol, you have to provide fan service to your loyal followers, however your boyfriend thinks you went a little too far with this one male fan and decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Phew howdy this is FILTHYYYY! Longest fic I've ever written too I think. After my call with Hongjoong, I couldn't stop thinking about if the roles were reversed and he got all jealous and possessive...Definitely need him to treat me this way. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Your group recently had a comeback, and to promote album sales and meet your amazing fans, you were doing 2-3 fancall events every single day. It was exhausting to see some familiar faces and having to talk to the same person multiple times in one day, but as an idol, you have to put up with that kind of stuff and just do your job.

The outfit your stylist put you in was super edgy and went with the concept for your recent album. It was a little revealing, but you didn’t mind too much cause you felt pretty. A black crop top with a metal o-ring right in the middle of your chest, a hooded top with the shoulders exposed that had grommets and rings down the arms, and connected to this ring on the hoodie top were two belt-like chains that went down your sides and hooked together in the back underneath the hood. Many of the fans you talked to today, mostly men, but occasional female fans, complimented you and said how beautiful you looked today. It was always refreshing getting to talk to the fellow female fans, as it felt more like girlhood than the male fans just trying to get in your pants. Although there was this one fan in particular, that was unbelievably handsome. After the staff member removed the paper from the camera, you were met with a gorgeous man, around the same age as you, you assumed.

“A-ah! H-Hi Hana!” He waved to you and seemed slightly nervous.

“Hi there-!” You quickly glanced down at your note, sitting next to the album you were supposed to sign for the fan. “Felix! So nice to meet you!” You said with a smile and waved with your free hand. You stared back at the fan with sparkling eyes, and your head tilted to the side as he waved back to you.

“I’m so excited to talk to you today…ah sorry, I’m so nervous.” He covered his face with his hands but left his eyes visible so he could stare at you.

"Ahh, don’t be nervous; I’m excited to talk to you too. Actually, you’re very handsome.” You said with a smirk and leaned closer to the camera. You watched as the fan lit up with excitement and heard a tiny gasp come from him.

“Oh- t-thank you so much. Y-you’re very pretty too.”

“Oh am I~? That’s so nice to hear. Thank you so much.” You continued to smile and bat your eyes at the fan, enjoying how flustered you were making him.

“Y-yes, I actually had a question for you, if I can ask.”

“Yes of course!” You took this opportunity to look down at the album, pick your favorite picture from this specific version of the album, and place your signature in the corner, along with a couple hearts for some fan service. The fan asked their question while you were signing.

“I was wondering how you came up with your stage name?” Ah yes, the question many fans ask you because they love to hear the clever response that you came up with.

“Ahh actually, so the number 1 in Korean is "hana,” and it has a lot of importance to me. It’s my favorite number, I was the first person to join our group, and I know I’ll always be the number 1 in your heart.” You took your time saying your response to drag out the time, looking around the room to pretend you were thinking about it, and then at the very end flashed a finger heart and a wink to the fan, to which he melted and covered his face with his hands again.

“Wow…you’re so cool Hana and so pretty.”

“Thank you so much!” You covered your smile with your hand to act all shy and cutesy. As the fans say, the company's rent was due, your fan service today has been insanely good. You heard the familiar sound of the timer going off, meaning the call was coming to an end. “Aww I’m so sorry Felix our time is up.” You said with a pout and brought your hands to a praying motion.

“Aww okay. Bye Hana! Thank you so much!” He waved to you and smiled.

“Bye handsome! Thank you!” You winked one last time as you waved, and the staff covered the camera with paper and ended the call. You made sure the call was done before you let out a sigh of relief and dropped your smile. The staff member that was helping you out for the day just smiled and chuckled the slightest bit.

“You were working hard there.” She said as she grabbed the album from you, placed the sticky note with the fan's order on it, and set it off to the side.

“Ahh yeah, he was cute though! Very sweet boy. It’s fans like that that make me love my job.” You took a couple sips out of the water bottle the staff provided for you and relaxed for a few seconds before the next call started.

–

The events were done for the day, and exhausted was an understatement. You bowed to the event staff and thanked them many times before making your way out of the room and following your manager back to the designated room for your group. You quickly glanced at your phone and saw a message from your boyfriend.

Your blood ran cold. He sounded so serious. What could you have possibly done? I guess you were going to find out when you got back to your apartment. You and Hongjoong had plans to meet up after your schedules today anyway.

–

You got back to your apartment, finally wearing some comfortable clothes. You walked into the front door, took your jacket off, and started to kick your shoes off before shouting out to your boyfriend, who was hiding somewhere. 

“Hongjoong! I’m bac-!” Your words were cut off by Hongjoong pressing you against the wall. His one hand grips onto your shoulder to keep you against the hard surface, and the other hand holds his phone and shoves the screen in your face.

“What the fuck is this?” He said lowly and through gritted teeth. You glanced over at the screen, breathing heavily, and saw a familiar-looking face on his screen. The video was from one of the many fan calls you had today. Specifically the really nice looking one. What was his name? Ah right, Felix.

“I don’t understand…”

“Don't play dumb with me Y/N! You’re practically fucking him through the screen!”

“N-no Hongjoong..what? L-let me see.” You reached up, took the phone from his hand, and read the post the fan had made to yourself.

The attached video had no sound, but subtitles were provided. You reviewed the video and smirked to yourself, watching the fan get all nervous and flustered again at your fan service. That’s exactly all it was. Fan service. You scrolled through some of the comments that had been made on that post by other fans.

Waahhh, omg you’re so lucky!!

SHE IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! IMAGINE BEING CALLED HANDSOME BY HANA? GOD YOU’RE SO LUCKY

Ohhh she wants you fr fr

You smirked again and lightly scoffed at the various reactions from your fans. When you looked back up at Hongjoong to hand him his phone back, his arms were crossed, his breathing was deep and heavy, and he stared at you with aggressive eyes.

“B-baby it’s just fan service.”

“Fan service my ass!” He snatched his phone back from your hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?”

“Hongjoong no, you don’t have to do that. I-I know that-.” Your words were cut off again by Hongjoong pushing you back against the wall again and slamming his lips onto yours. The grip he had on your arms was enough to hurt a little bit, and you squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. “J-Joong.”

“Shut the fuck up cheater, or I’ll shove something in your mouth to make you shut up.” His behavior was so left-field for you, and you didn’t know how to feel. If you wanted to be truly honest, his possessive nature was making your pussy ache and damp.

“I didn’t d-do anything wrong!” 

“Didn’t do anything wrong….listen to yourself!” He yelled slightly and slid his hands down to grab both of your wrists, then slammed them up against the wall. He pressed his body frame against you, so you were completely against the wall. His face is right in your face, leaving no room for personal space. “I fucking own you; you got that? You’re mine, and when I see you flirting and undressing your fans with those seductive eyes of yours..I get a little…pissed off. So now, I have to make sure you haven’t forgotten exactly who you belong to.”

“Hongjoong I-.” Your heart was beating rapidly, and you did not know what else to say or do. He waited for you to try to say another smart remark before he took your hands held above your head, held them in one hand, and pulled you along as he started stomping toward your room. “Stop! What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a fucking lesson.” He threw his arm forward, which resulted in you stumbling forward and dropping down at the edge of the bed. He stepped back and ripped his shirt off over his head and, with one hand, threw it to the side of the room. You were propping yourself up with one arm and leaning back onto the bed as he walked closer to you. He grabbed the bottom of your chin and forced your face to look up at him. Taking a few seconds to look at your face and smile slyly. 

“Are you scared of what I am capable of, Y/N?” You shook your head from side to side in response. “Use your fucking words slut.”

“N-no!” You stuttered out.

“You don’t sound so confident~.”

“I’m not scared of you!” You retaliated, but he just smirked at you. 

“Guess I'll have to make you scared of me then.” Not a moment passed before he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off the bed, down on your knees, onto the floor in front of him. You winced from the pain as he dragged you down. You tilted your head up to look at him, hoping your expression would fill him with remorse. “Pathetic really. You think looking at me like that will make me forget what you did today? Think again.” As he spoke, his free hand fought with his belt to get it off. He snapped the belt to the side, almost like a whip, and squatted down to be in front of you. You dared not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You felt his hand release from your hair. He tenderly traced his hands along your arms and brought them together, holding your wrists together again with his hands.

“I don’t want you fucking touching me, so this is how I’ll fix that.” He took the belt and tightened it harshly around your wrists, pulling the belt tought and wrapping it a few times, allowing the end of the belt to stick out as a grip for him to hold onto. He stood back up and pulled your arms up with the belt. Your head rag dolled with your arms being pulled up. At this point, you had given in to him and were ready to accept whatever punishment he was giving you right now. 

Your eyes followed his hand, which was not holding your restraint, and your eyes were led to the zipper on his pants. He pulled the zipper down and shimmed his pants down just barely past his hips, enough for him to be able to whip his cock out. 

“Open up whore.” He demanded, and you found yourself quickly obeying. He raised the arm holding your restraint a little higher before shoving his cock directly into your mouth. Pushing himself all the way in, not allowing you to prepare yourself at all. Your eyes immediately filled with tears, and you tried your best not to gag. Hongjoong had an average-sized cock, but that doesn't mean it was easy for you to take him. You heard Hongjoong groan above you, and you glanced up at him to see the look on his face. His head was tilted back slightly, and his mouth was agape just the slightest bit.

“God I’m gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna fuck this little throat of yours so good it’ll be hard for you to sing at your precious music show tomorrow.” You whimpered at his dirty talk, but also because your voice is an extremely valued asset to your group, and if you can’t perform at your best, it will definitely not go unnoticed. He shoved himself further inside your mouth, and you couldn’t help but gag so hard that you started to cough. You pulled yourself off and back away from him, and you continued coughing until you felt better. Hongjoong scoffed at you.

“Unbelievable.”

“Joongie please…” Your voice is nearly above a whisper, still trying to come back to you after having his dick deep in your throat. Your eyes are now bloodshot and watery, looking at him hoping he’ll feel some sympathy and realize he's going a little too hard on you.

“You should have thought about the consequences before flirting with that fan baby.” He shrugs and dismisses your cry for help. You braced yourself, thinking he was going to shove himself back inside your throat, but to your surprise, he pulled you up by the belt restraint, so you were standing up. He steadied you by placing his free hand on your shoulder and looking at you deep in the eyes. “You’re lucky I actually give a shit about your career. Be thankful I don’t completely ruin your fragile ass.” He tilted his head while talking to you, smirking at the end of his sentence.

“Y-yes, thank you.”

“Shut up. That wasn’t an invitation.” He unexpectedly let go of the belt, and your arms fell down in front of you, hitting the front of your crotch. You whimpered at the impact and felt the blood rush back into your arms. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you, so you fell back onto the bed. Letting out a grunt when your back made contact with the mattress. Hongjoong stepped closer to the bed and gripped onto your sweatpants. 

“I don’t want to hear another sound out of you, got it?” You opened your mouth to agree, but quickly closed it and nodded your head instead. "Finally, you got some sense knocked into you.” He pulled your sweatpants down, and you heard a soft chuckle come out of him. “My my, you’ve made a mess down here already.” You wanted to squirm, but his grip on your legs prevented you from doing so. Your struggle must have said enough because he took two of his fingers and placed them on the wet patch on your underwear. The room was quiet enough that you could hear the squishing sound of your wetness spreading even more, completely soaking your undergarments.

“You like me treating you like this, huh?” He said as he pushed his fingers into you harder. You bit your lip to suppress the whimper that so desperately wanted to come out. His two fingers finding your clit through your underwear and massaging it delicately. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip harder. You arched your back slightly and tilted your head into the bed.

“Look at you getting all needy for me now. Bet you were not thinking about me when talking to that boy toy of yours.” His tone was so condescending. You had really pissed him off, and he was going to make sure you knew and remembered who you belonged to. He removed his fingers from your clothed pussy and pulled them down. Completely removing those and your sweatpants in the process. You felt the cold air of the room blow across your bare area and got cold chills on your body. He harshly gripped your thighs and pulled your legs further apart, completely exposing yourself to him. You felt his warm breath against you as he leaned in closer. He pushes your legs apart a little more, and you whimper at the pain of being overstretched. Hongjoong hears your whimper and slaps the side of your leg with his hand.

“I thought I told you to stay quiet.”

“S-sorry.” You muttered and felt Hongjoong slap your side again, harder than the last time. Next thing you know, he dives his tongue straight into your pussy, licking and sliding his mouth everywhere. His warm tongue collects all of your juices that have recently come out. He swirls your fluids around in his mouth and spits it right back out onto you, licking and lapping it up all over again. His nose is pushing right onto your clit. You so badly want to take your hands and grip the side of his hair, but with your hands tied, you can’t. Your body writhes and squirms underneath him, and with every movement you make, you feel him pushing that side of you back down to keep you secured to the bed. He continues to lick and tongue-fuck you, too enthralled in your pussy to notice all of the soft whimpers and moans you have been letting out. You feel a knot begin to form in your lower stomach, but just as you are about to go over the edge, Hongjoong pulls away from you. You tilt your head down to look at him, breathing heavily and wondering why he stopped. He looks back at you and uses his tongue to lick your excessive fluids that have built up around his lips. Pulling his tongue back in and letting it rest against his teeth as he smirks at you, looking at him with desperation and confusion.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did you really think I was going to let you cum that easily? This is your punishment whore. Nothing good will come out of this, you hear me?” 

You pouted and wiggled your arms to try to prop yourself up. You just wanted to cum so badly and get this punishment over with. Hongjoong takes this time to grab your sides and flip you over onto your stomach. Your legs are still dangling off the edge of the bed, and you feel him spread your legs apart a little bit with his hands and nuzzle himself in between. He glides his hand up your right thigh and caresses your ass cheek.

“Such a pretty ass, but it’ll look even better with my handprints all over it. Wouldn’t you agree?” You wiggled your hips to agree with him. He firmly grips your cheek before pulling his hand away and forcing it back down onto your ass. He watches as the skin, fat, and muscle recoil from the slap. You push your head into the bed to muffle any sounds that might come out of your mouth. Hongjoong not being satisfied with his work yet, lifted his hand up again and smacked your ass harshly for the second time. You started to feel the stinging and burning feeling. Your ass was now a pretty shade of pink, but Hongjoong was still not satisfied. He lifted his hand one more time and put all his effort into slapping your ass again. You heard him grunt as he swung his arm down. Putting all of his force into smacking you. You pushed your hips back, unintentionally asking him for more.

“It’s funny you think I’m going to give you what you want. Really? After what you did today?” Hongjoong massaged your stinging and red cheek as he said this, and you softly moaned at the feeling. Finally being able to feel some comfort after a couple minutes of pain. Hongjoong flips you around again and leans down, placing his arms on both sides of you to support himself. He reaches for the belt restraint and takes it off of you.

“This is not an invitation for you to touch me, got it?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whispered as you nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. He smirks for a second and tosses the belt to the side of the room. He places one arm back at your side while the other hand touches his cock to guide himself into you. Instead of slamming himself inside of you like before, he slowly inserts his dick into you. Your walls swallow him, and you can feel every vein on his cock. He removes his hand from his dick as he goes further in and places it beside you on the other side.

“God dammit you’re so tight.” He growls through gritted teeth. Pushing himself all the way, slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills you nicely. Happy to finally have his cock inside you after him edging you. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, unsure of where to put them since you can’t put them on Hongjoong like you normally would.

“I’m gonna drill myself so far into you that you’ll still feel me inside you days later. So you can never forget me. Huh? Remember? You’re mine Y/N. You’re my toy to fuck and play with. Think about that the next time you want to whore yourself out to your fans. I bet he couldn’t fuck you like I could. No, he couldn’t. Cause if he even remotely got close to you, he’d be gone in seconds. No one touches you except for me. You got that? Mine…you’re fucking mine!” Hongjoong spouts off, getting increasingly louder and harder with his thrusts. He has fully leaned his body down onto you, so you are chest to chest. His dick keeps drilling inside you, and your head is spinning. His dirty and possessive words go straight to your core.

“Hongjoong-”

"Yeah, fucking say my name. Who’s fucking you this good?”

“Hongjoong!”

“That’s right you slut!” He thrusts himself into you harder and faster. You feel your orgasm building up again. You so desperately want to grab onto his arms and hold onto him as you’re cumming. Hongjoong dives his head into your neck and kisses and nips at your skin, surely leaving little marks on your skin.

“S-stop! Tomorrow…schedule!” You plead, trying to tell him not to mark up your skin since you have performances to do the next day.

“No! I’m letting all of your precious fans know you’re already taken, and there is no chance of them being able to get with you.” He mutters seductively against your neck. A few more thrusts and neck kisses, and your release bubbles out of you. You cry out his name, each one louder than the last, as you cum all over his cock. “Fuck! Yeah that’s right. I’m the only one capable of making you cum this hard.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you can tell he is close to his release. He is still pounding into you, which is overstimulating you. Muttering “yeah” and “fuck” to himself quietly over and over again, grunting and groaning. Eventually, he fills you up with his load. Tilting his head down and panting as he tries to calm himself down. He pulls himself out of you, and you whimper. Completely fucked out and brainless at this point.

“Just to check…who do you belong to?”

“You Hongjoong…o-only you.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget that ever again; you got it?”

“Yes Hongjoong.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @xuchiya @bunnyluvr25

[mrchiipchrome]

Care For Me, I Know You Care For Me

W.C. - 6.1 k

Back with another chapter :()

———————————————

“I’m going to a party, you want to come with?” Looking up at the older girl through heavy lidded eyes, her party dress clinging tight to her body, you can barely even imagine yourself at another party, especially with classes having started the week prior.

A multitude of open books surround you, all displaying different types of equations and explanations of increasingly complex mathematical concepts. You’d already been at it for an hour, and still you had only solved two or three questions.

It was worse than having to run suicides for an hour straight, pure brutality.

“Do I have a choice?” With your fingers buried deep in your hair and your lips turned down in a frown, Em looks you over for a moment before deciding on her answer, shaking her head softly, uncharacteristically.

“I’m really sorry, I've just got so much work already.” Looking back down at the half solved problem, you sigh loudly before writing out another part of the equation, pulling your calculator closer to the edge of the table, the numbered buttons clicking softly under your fingertips.

Going unnoticed by you, Em’s shoes thud against the hardwood floor as she makes her way over to where you're sitting at the kitchen table, placed up against the almost kitchen island looking structure that’s there instead of a full wall to make the space look more open, her hands taking hold of the sides of your face resulting in your cheeks being smushed together when she makes you look up at her.

"You're not sorry, you hate going to parties.” As her sentence comes to an end, she presses a kiss to your forehead before she turns around to leave your apartment, looking back at you to blow you a kiss when she sees you putting your middle finger up at her through the hallway mirror.

But alas, as the door clicks shut behind the older woman, you have to go back to doing the boring work you’d been given by your math teacher, no longer a distraction there for you to blame for not having full focus.

Em was always a nice distraction for you when the work piled up and your usual workaholic self sat for hours upon hours in front of a multitude of books and screens.

At the same time, it was infuriating when she interrupted at the worst times like when you were in the middle of a question or when she inevitably would ask you to do her assignments for her, all while probably eating your food. The girl really is in a league of her own at times.

Rolling your eyes at the thought, it doesn’t take long for you to remove all distractions from your surroundings, putting your phone on do not disturb before burying your head in your work once more, numbers and equations floating together in your mind like they have no substance.

There's no preventing the drooping of your eyelids about 3 hours after Em initially asked you if you wanted to party, and there’s even less you can do about the way the cool pages of your book feel against your hot cheek, the combination of boredom and sleepiness from the late hour mixing together and creating a very tired striker.

It’s only a few hours later when you’re drooling over the written out equations on your paper that you startle awake, a loud ringing coming from the phone placed not too far away from your head, your body jumpstarting way too quickly for your mind to comprehend.

Slapping around for your phone, your fingers grip the cool metal with surprising ease, swiping blindly at the accept button, not even looking at the caller id.

“Y/l/n Manufacturing, how can I help you?” The response is automated, coming out your mouth like it had been practiced a million times before, sometimes your home phone would ring and you’d pick it up before one of your nanny’s could, leaving your childish voice to sound through the speaker, ready to tackle their problems with practiced efficiency only your parents could rival. Sure little helper you were.

There’s a second filled to the brim with an awkward type of silence before sweet giggling fills your ear, leaving you to pull away from the phone for a quick second, looking at the caller id.

‘Emma Whitmore Harvard’ can be seen across the top of your screen, but even though the voice was familiar, it wasn’t Em. That much you knew.

Who could possibly have her phone at this hour? Raising your phone back up to your ear, you don’t bother to lift your head from the papers now sticking uncomfortably to your face, only waiting for the person on the other end to stop giggling and start talking.

“Hey Y/n/n, why so formal? We’re friends right?” Oh. Of course Nika would be the one to call you…from Em’s phone?

“Nika? Why do you have Emma’s phone?” She giggles once again, this time at your sleepy confusion and at the sound of you peeling the paper off your cheek with a small groan, red marks engraved into your skin, not that she could see that.

“Well she took me to the party you didn’t want to go to, obviously she forgot that she had to drive home and we’re stuck here, drunk.” She explains carefully, choosing her words as consciously as she can, the slur of her words indicating that she in fact was a little more than tipsy.

Sighing, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue, already getting up from the chair that’s made your butt numb after sitting on it for hours upon hours.

“You want to bring you both back here?” She hums in response, agreeing quickly, and you can imagine the sly smile on her lips on the other end of the phone. “Alright, I’ll be there in an hour, try to not get yourself in trouble.” With that you hang up on her, sighing once more before making your way to the hall, not even paying your outfit any mind as you slip your beat up sneakers on.

Plucking your car keys off the hook they’re hung on, you’re out the door in record time with your phone in one hand and your keys in the other. Rubbing your eyes as you stand in the elevator, you can only imagine the trouble a drunk Nika and an even drunker Em have gotten into during the evening without you there to calm them down.

You yawn as the ding of the elevator doors indicate their opening, stepping out into the colder air of the entrance in the apartment building, shivering ever so slightly.

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk across the parking lot towards the garage that you keep your precious car in, and you slap yourself a few times to wake up a little bit more.

After opening the garage door to see your absolute beauty of a car, it only takes a few seconds for you to unlock the doors and slip into the warmth that it provided, the special made seats infinitely better than any wooden chair you could ever purchase for your kitchen.

Pushing your key into the ignition, you stop only for a moment or two to close your eyes tightly, feeling the sleepiness push at the back of your eyes, eyelids heavy even whilst they’re closed. But alas, you were a woman on a mission, to rescue your two princesses from the monstrosity that is a frat party.

So you pull up the ‘Find My’ app on your phone, clicking on the little icon with Em’s face beside it, showing off her location for you, and as you typed the location in the search bar of the ‘Maps’ app there’s nothing stopping you from letting out that little laugh that was reserved for ridiculous situations like this.

Who other than Emma Whitmore would forget to stay sober so that she could drive home? A real Em thing to do you suppose.

Either way, you turn the car on and pull out of the garage, clicking on the little button on your keys to make the door close behind the back of the car automatically.

Your phone is placed on the dashboard, ready to tell you the instructions to find the location you desire, and you reach out to turn the radio on, a ballad from ages ago floating out of the almost outdated speakers on low volume, covering the piercing silence covering every surface and crevice of your car.

Tapping along to the subtle beat of the song, the empty roads of the early morning almost feel comforting, streetlights lighting up the inside of your car for a second before it’s the next one’s turn, various trees littering the edges of the roads. They’re never grouped together, only single trees in a line, a style choice.

The voice of the AI giving you the instructions quiets down when you’re only a few blocks away from the house that Em’s phone had been in only an hour before, and you’re surprised at how quickly time had passed as you were driving, an hour feeling closer to 20 minutes than an hour.

But it’s only when you start to recognise the clusters of trees and the street signs that you turn off the directions, not needing them to navigate you anymore.

Parking your car a bit away from the frat, once again not wanting it to be stolen by some drunken frat boys, you take your keys out of the ignition and exit the car, locking it quickly before putting the keys in your pocket where they would be safe.

Leaning slightly against the hood of your car, you send a quick text off to Em, well Nika, saying that you’re there and that they should come out to meet you.

When your phone vibrates in your grip you let a small smile creep up on your face, a small ‘come find us’ coming through, the banner covering the bottom of your screensaver, a photo of you with your Arsenal teammates on your last day before leaving for America.

Trudging up the small hill, the thumping music spilling out from the large white house makes a sarcastic smile appear on your face, hands shoved into the pockets of your pajama pants.

More than a few people turn their heads to look at you weirdly but you don't pay them any mind, ready to bring both the older women home so that you could finally finish your homework and then go to bed.

Entering the open door, you’re immediately met with the stench of alcohol and sweat and the sight of various men pushing up against anything with a beating heart, legs and long hair.

Scanning the room, you look for the tall brunette and the shorter blonde, the two of them seemingly being able to keep entirely hidden from your wandering eyes despite their vertically advantaged frames.

Dragging the soles of your shoes along the floor, you’re making sure to be on alert in case you spot them and it doesn’t register in your mind, the music from before now rattling your brain around in your skull.

But as you spot the guy from the party where you first met Nika, you have no choice in turning around and almost sprinting into the kitchen to get away from him and his musty presence.

With Lady Luck on your side, your body bumps into someone else’s, a familiar warmth to the hand wrapping around the back of your shirt to make sure that your lanky body doesn’t thump pathetically against the sticky floor and the foreign accent wrapping around the words coming out of the gorgeous girl’s mouth.

“Found us.” The sentence is short, simple, but still it makes your knees feel like tv static and your heart thump painfully against your ribs, your usual confident but grumpy demeanor turning shy and giddy. That was until a voice sounds above the music and the blood rushing in your ears, a voice that could immediately turn any giddiness back into irritability, no matter how much you loved the girl it belonged to.

“What the actual fuck are you wearing?” Emma asks giggling, looking at the pajamas you had changed into not long after she had left. She was clearly drunk, but sober enough to be a hater.

Nika pulls away from your body, just enough so that she herself could get a peek of the ‘ugly’ attire, bringing her free hand to her lips in order to not laugh out loud at it.

You look down at yourself, a big red Harvard logo printed on your white t-shirt with your number right above it, and a pair of Arsenal themed pajama pants, bright red with the logo printed in white.

A slight red tint creeps up on your face as you roll your eyes at the both of them, ready to drag the both of them out by the ear if you had to. The two women’s giggles fill the space you occupy, leaving you to fight the smile willing itself to creep up on your face, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders to try to get a move on out the house.

The giggles turn even louder as the guy from before calls out for you as you’re nearing the door, his strange dialect mixing with the alcohol in a mess of words and mumbles.

“Bye bye Brit!” If your hands hadn’t been secured around the shoulders of the girls beside you, you would’ve flipped him off. Luckily for both you and him, you had to keep hold of them both so that they wouldn’t drunkenly wander off.

You feel as they both sway on their feet as they focus solely on putting one foot in front of the other, wanting no drunken accidents to affect them in the morning.

The concrete of the sidewalk wasn’t comfortable to fall on, that much they both knew even in their drunken stupor.

After much fuss and a few close calls, you’ve all made it back to your car in one piece, the infamous car that no one had stolen.

“Em, come on, you go in the backseat.” Your voice holds a tone of finality and Em knows that there’s no room for arguing, instead just grumbling softly to herself as she opens the door and plops down in the seat just behind the passenger, buckling herself in under your watchful gaze.

When she’s done, you close the door softly before turning around, completely forgetting about Nika for a second, your heart jumping out of your chest as you come face to face with the Aphrodite.

Placing your hand over your thumping heart, you gasp sharply at the unexpected presence, a playful smile breaking out of the perpetrators face.

“Boo.” She whispers into the cold night air, a mix of alcohol and mint on her breath that’s pleasant in its own unique way, in a way that strangely leaves you wanting more of her.

“Get in the car Nika, I’ll drive you home.” The smile drops off her face when you mention home, like she wasn’t expecting that to be the word coming out of your mouth, her fingers twisting and turning around themselves in a nervous game. It makes you look at her curiously, wondering why that was her reaction, wondering how and why and everything in between.

But you wait for her to tell you why, how and everything in between in her own time, for the first time in the last week your mind stood still, waiting for whatever was about to come out of Nika’s parted lips.

“I- can you just take me back to yours instead? I mean only if you want to.” She picks at the skin around her nails as she speaks, all rushed like you wouldn’t say yes a thousand times if it meant that you got to spend another second with her.

“Of course I can, no problem really.” Trying your best to be comforting, you slap a smile on your face as you speak, bringing your hand up to rub at her shoulder softly, assuring her that you didn’t have a problem with opening your home up to another guest.

“Thanks.” With her word of gratitude, you turn back around to the car, seeing Emma making rather crude gestures through the window, a peace sign with her tongue between her fingers. Normally you would reprimand the drunk girl’s actions, but you can’t help the small giggle leaving your lips, a shake of your head as you roll your eyes.

You open the door to the passenger seat for Nika, motioning for her to sit down with practiced ease, smiling as she tiptoes towards the car like she's a princess and you're her knight, placing her hand into your outstretched one as she goes to sit down in the passenger seat.

You smile at the playful nature of the interaction, the tiredness hitting you like a ton of bricks once more as you keep a watchful eye over the woman buckling herself into your car, making sure that she does it properly.

Just like you did with Em before, you close the door softly after her, this time not being scared by anyone hiding behind you. Walking around the front of the car, the tips of your fingers trace over the hood as a sort of leading hand, letting you go around to your side with ease.

Not unlike Em, you plop down in your seat sluggishly before putting the key back in the ignition, pausing only to look back at your best friend with a pointed look, warning her not to be all too annoying during the ride back home.

She just puts her hands up, smirking at you playfully, so self assured that she wouldn’t do anything to get her into any trouble with you.

The car awakens with a rumble, the engine almost purring as you pull away from where you’re parked against the curb, tired eyes focused only on getting everybody back to your apartment safely and totally not at all on the beauty sitting in your passenger seat.

It isn't until you’ve hit the open road that you allow yourself to look back at your best friend through the rearview mirror, the girl's head resting on the seat behind her, mouth open with ever so soft snores coming out of her. It makes a wide, teasing smile appear on your lips, a sleepy drunk too apparently.

When you turn your eyes back to the road, you completely miss the enraptured look in the brunette beside you’s eyes, an adoring smile on her soft red lips.

Her eyes trail over the dips and curves of your body under your clothes, over the bridge of your nose and the slight furrow of your brow in concentration, over the curve of your jaw and the locks of your hair.

She lets her eyes trail over your exposed forearms as you grip the steering wheel, your fingers tapping against the leather to the beat of the song she hadn’t even noticed in the background.

Before she can stop herself, the accented words spill out of her mouth like a waterfall, a drunken impulse that maybe wasn't that affected after all.

“You’re really pretty you know.” It’s almost a whisper, just a little bit louder than a normal one would be, but you heard her like she was shouting it across the rooftops, not whispering it in the enclosed space of your car.

You look at her, only for a moment or two, her gaze turned to the road you were driving on, deliberately choosing not to look you in the eye, almost embarrassed by the comment that could easily be interpreted as friendly and not flirtatious.

“You’re awfully pretty as well, Nika.” You decide on your words very carefully, not wanting to seem overly flirtatious with the taken woman, but at the same time wanting to return the compliment. She was really, truly gorgeous though.

Again, before she can stop herself from clarifying, she blurts out another string of words that she hopes you’ll just play off as her being intoxicated and not really truthful.

“No, you don't understand, you're gorgeous.” She hears you laugh slightly under your breath, and she almost breathes a sigh of relief at you not taking her seriously, and waving off her comments under the simple guise of;

“And you're drunk.” With that, all your focus is back on the road, trying to get back to your home as quickly as humanly possible, wanting to crawl down in your bed and snuggle up to your blankets.

And after many twists and turns, you're finally back where you started, at your apartment building, the cold air surrounding you as you exit the vehicle after you’ve parked it back in your garage, Nika following in tandem as she too makes her way out, shivering slightly in the Boston air.

“The code to the door is 6532, you can go whilst I get Em up.” She smiles at you once again, committing the list of numbers to her memory, willing herself not to forget even a single digit. Her shoes clack against the pavement in a sure rhythm, making her way towards the door of the building, repeating the numbers to herself softly.

At the same time, you’re pulling Em’s door open, tapping her cheek to wake her up from the deep slumber she found herself in. Ever the deep sleeper, her snores just continued to fill the car, almost like she was doing it only to spite you.

“Em, Em. Emma, come on, wake up.” By now you’re shaking her harshly, the woman only grumbling at you to leave her alone. “Emma, I will slap you into next week if you don’t get up.” That rouses her, the older brunette quickly unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, standing next to you and then bringing her hand up to mock salute you.

Rolling your eyes at her antics, you quickly lock the car up before walking out of the garage with your best friend in tow, the garage door going down and covering up your car from the view of the public, safe and sound.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get into your building, seeing Nika standing by the elevator doors, seemingly waiting for the two of you to join her in the lobby before you all collectively went up to your apartment. There’s a certain look in her eye, at least that’s what you think, maybe it was just the lighting. Yeah that’s it.

“Nika, hey girl, what are you doing here?” The girl practically hanging off you speaks, asking her now giggling friend the question of the century. She’s still really drunk, that’s easy to tell, the slurring of her words, the tint to her cheeks and the sway of her body.

“Oh we’re having a sleepover.” She answers nonchalantly, sending you a wink when Em’s not looking, both of you having to stop the giggles bubbling up in your chests. It was your little secret, Em didn’t have to know.

The elevator doors open and you all step in, directing Nika to press the button for the fifth floor with a simple show of fingers. You look on as she leans back against the wall, taking in the exterior of the moving box, bringing you all upstairs in the matter of seconds.

Gesturing for her to exit first, you bring Em with you as you walk out behind the tall brunette, her body almost hanging off yours with her arms tightening themselves around your shoulders. Em stumbles over her own feet a few times even with the help of your guidance, but all in all you both manage to stay upright in the small distance from the elevator to your door.

“Nika, catch!” You whispershout in her direction, plucking your keys out of your pocket and throwing it to her right in time, her hands coming up to catch them skillfully. She nods to the door she’s standing in front of, asking you if it’s the right one silently, pushing the house key on your keychain into the lock and twisting, the door opening with a click.

She takes a few slow steps into the apartment, looking around curiously, spotting a few photos hanging on the walls of the hallway. You enter after her, quickly kicking your shoes off with little to no regard for the overall cleanliness of the space, pulling a now half asleep Em through the open space between your kitchen, the hall and the living room.

Nika can hear the loud groan as you drop Em off on the couch, your back popping loudly as you stretch your muscles out, returning to the hall with heavy steps. You meet her with a tired smile, telling her to follow you.

“You want anything to eat? Drink? Anything?” You ask the beauty as she follows you into the kitchen, head on a swivel as she studies your apartment, looking down at the books laying on your table, wide open for anyone to see. Seeing her eyes widen at the problems, you chuckle quietly, not wanting to disturb Emma sleeping in the next room over.

“Yeah, that was my reaction too.” Crossing your arms across your chest, you lean back against the counter behind you, waiting for the girl in front of you to answer your previous question. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.”

The woman giggles at your words, the stereotypical brit in you coming out as you push off the counter and saunter over to the kettle, filling it up with enough water for a cup each. You look back with a smile of your own before turning the tap off and returning the kettle to the tray, pushing the on button before turning around.

The sight you see as you turn around is one of Nika, sitting on your countertop with one leg crossed over the other, hands clutching the edge softly.

A comfortable silence covers the room as you stand on opposite sides waiting for the kettle to boil, you moving around the room to fetch two cups out of the cupboard, plopping a teabag in each cup, pouring the now boiling water over the tea, making the once clear water a sheer dark brown.

“There you go.” You say as you hand her one of the cups, a blue mug with small green dinosaurs painted all around, your own just a plain white one.

“Thank you.” The words of gratitude are whispered but you hear them all the same, watching her take a sip before she places the warm mug down on the counter right beside her thigh. She looks up, seeing your intense gaze fixed on her, turning her head down shyly, uncharacteristically. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You respond, smiling softly once more, taking your own sip of your tea. “If you want a shower, the bathroom is at the end of the hall, there are clean towels on the rack in there already, then you can take my bed, first door on the left.” Keeping your eyes locked on her, you see the tiny nod she gives at the information, absentmindedly hopping off the counter and moving towards the hallway leading to the bathroom before she stops suddenly, peeking her head around the corner to look at you.

“What about you?” She questions, her brows furrowed adorably in confusion.

“What about me?” You ask right back, now as confused as she is, not understanding what she meant.

“Where are you sleeping?” She asks as if it’s obvious, rolling her eyes sassily at you.

“Oh, I’ll just cuddle up to dear Em.” You smile almost sarcastically, like you can’t wait to have Em’s sharp elbow digging into your ribs in the near future.

“I don’t mind sharing with you.” Despite the way she says it, you know that Nika is being fully truthful in her confession, especially as she shrugs her shoulders at your questioning look.

“No, I can’t do that.” You say, unsure in the words coming out your own mouth more than anything.

“I don’t mind sharing with you, it can’t be worse than sharing with P anyway.” She doubles down on her previous statement, shaking her head at your stubborn nature.

“Nika, you don’t understand, I have to finish this up and by the time I’m done it’s going to be late…” You try to explain, plopping back down into the chair at your kitchen table, picking your pen up and focusing your eyes back down on the paper, not noticing the woman in question nearing you again until she’s standing right in front of you, her fingers plucking the pen right out of your hand.

“Do it tomorrow.” She says in that captivating tone, making you want to do exactly what she’s suggesting, despite the fact that it was something you so desperately needed to do. Extremely convincing indeed.

“Nika…” You sigh, and she knows that you’re not far from agreeing, just a little more needed to get you over the edge. Nika hums softly, handing you your pen back with a small smirk on her annoyingly pretty face.

“You know you want to.” She says into the tension filled air, physical sparks almost flying between your bodies as she leans in ever so slightly, your faces only inches apart from each other.

“How do you know what I want?” You counter, a blush creeping up your neck at her cocky smirk, trying your hardest not to seem squirmish under her intense look, uncharacteristic for your usual confident self. Still, a curious look creeps up on your face as you wait for her answer, the corners of your lips peeking up ever so slightly.

“Psychic.” She motions around with her hands, putting two fingers to her temple like she’s about to read the aura you emit, and you can’t help but lean back in your chair, snorting at the notion that she could do something like that.

“Yeah, yeah, go take a shower.” You roll your eyes playfully as she walks away, turning back to make the universal ‘I’m keeping my eyes on you’ gesture, a silly smile erupting on your face as her back turns to you fully, shaking your head at the antics.

You can hear the shower starting, the water splashing against the bathroom floor and the metal of Nika’s belt buckle being undone.

Looking back down at the books, you start trying to solve the next problem, your back hunched over the table uncomfortably, eyes straining against the soft lighting just about giving the papers enough visibility. The scratching of your pencil is comforting, repetitive but nice, keeping the light headache just starting to form at bay.

There’s no way to tell how much time that had passed as you sat in your dimly lit kitchen, ears picking up on the shower stopping but you didn't pay it much attention, still stuck on the same problem as before.

Letting out a sigh of relief as you finally get the equation right, you hear your name being called from the open doorway, no door sitting in the space, and you can physically feel your heart speeding up in your chest, banging against your ribs harshly for the thousandth time that day. Your mouth turns dry and your pupils expand exponentially, a rose colored tint on your cheeks.

Nika’s dark brown curls drip water onto your floor, droplets of water running down the top of her chest, stopping only when they come into contact with the absorbent material of the towel tightly wrapped around her body. Her collarbones on full display for your eyes to drink in, looking like they were sculpted in marble by Michelangelo, no not even he could do the goddess standing in front of you any justice.

In the matter of seconds you were fully awake, not even a remnant of the previous exhaustion in your mind, thousands of thoughts running through your mind at the same time making you completely short circuit.

You were, as most called it, gay panicking.

When you come back into ‘consciousness’ Nika is standing right in front of you, looking concerned and waving her hand in front of your eyes, trying to gain your attention.

“Yo, you okay?” She asks, that furrow back in her brow, deepening when you can’t seem to find the right words to reply to her, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Yea- uh yeah I’m dandy, what did you want to know?” You answer, mouth still dry like the desert but your thoughts are more collected than before. Redirecting your eyes so that you’re looking back at your homework, you don’t see the concern still in her expression, nor as she brushes it off and decides that maybe it didn’t matter.

“Can I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to change into.” Nika tells you and you hum, throwing out a simple response.

“Sure, my wardrobe is in my bedroom, take whatever you like.” The only thing you can hear after that is the thudding of her steps against your floor, retreating towards your room, the click of the door opening and closing making you let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, slapping your hand over your face at the fool you were making yourself out to be.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly before sighing, flipping your books close and starting to tidy up all the papers laying all over your kitchen, yawning softly as you bend down to pick up the last piece of paper on the floor.

It’s unexpected when hands grip your hips, pulling you backwards like you were a dog being dragged by its hind legs. Looking back at Nika, all she does is smile mischievously and continue to pull you back with her.

“Nika, what are you doing?” By now you’re standing up a little more, her hands still situated on your hips, beginning to slide upwards to take hold of your waist instead.

“Getting you to bed.” She answers, not letting you go even as you move to continue cleaning up the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning my kitchen.” You tell her like it’s obvious, even rolling your eyes for the extra effect needed to convey your ‘message’. She hums, deciding on what her next course of action should be as you keep moving around, dragging her along.

“Do it in the morning.” Nika tells you almost sternly, trying to actually pull you towards your bedroom now instead of the half assed way she was doing it before.

“Nika come-” You start off before you’re interrupted, not having much of a choice in following her instructions this time.

“Nope, in the morning.” Letting yourself get dragged to your bedroom, you shut the door behind the two of you after the brunette finally let go of you, instead turning to your bed and slipping under the comfortable covers.

You however, move towards your wardrobe, ready to get out of the clothes that you had been outside in, they weren’t getting in your bed. The clean pair of shorts and the t-shirt you pull out replace the dirty clothes, not even noticing Nika’s steady eyes on you all throughout the process, your tired mind just wanting to go to sleep after the long day.

Shuffling over to the bed, you get under the blanket and go to get more comfortable, tossing for a few seconds before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp Nika must have turned on when she was in choosing her sleepwear before.

Arms thread around your waist once more, with you laying on your back and her laying on her side, a leg slung over your thighs and her head placed on your chest, surprisingly cuddly and comfortable.

“This okay?” She questions timidly, looking up at you through heavy eyelids, begging for the rest that’s soon to come. Nika can only see the movement of your head, nodding back and forth tiredly, your right hand coming up to lay behind your head.

“Good night Nika.”

“Good night Y/n/n.”

An hour later when Em gets up to go pee, she decides to check on you, taking a little detour and opening your door just a little, seeing you and her brother’s girlfriend snuggled up tightly to each other, asleep face to face.

She chuckles quietly before closing the door back up and making her way to the bathroom, muttering something under her breath in order to not wake you both.

“I’ve seen lesbian porn straighter than that.”

[russellsppttemplates]

One step at a time (Charles Leclerc)

A scare pushes your family even closer and, fortunately, it all turns well

Note: english is not my first language. I've had these requests in my inbox for a really long time, and I've debated on if and how I should write them, because it is a sensitive topic that I feel huge respect about and I hope I have written it in a respectful way. In a way, this is based in stories I've heard, so I hope it is a good depiction as I'm not a doctor nor someone who has experienced this.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: depicts a potential pregnancy loss for the reader (mentions pain, cramping, anxiety, blood, hospitals)

"Do you have his bag, Charles?", you asked your husband, looking around Hervé's room for his cardigan, "yes, I have it here!", he said back to you from the kitchen. Charles had a full afternoon with meetings and you happened to be needed presently at your office just the day that Hervé's pre-school had an unexpected problem with the electricity and that they wouldn't be able to keep the kids for today. Luckily, Pascale had the day off from her salon, so it was only a couple of minutes of you and Charles running around like headless chickens before you realised the small issue had a solution.

"Ready to go to grand-mère, my love?", you called for your son, helping him put the soft piece on before he grabbed his backpack, "have a good day, buddy! Give grand-mère a big kiss for me, okay?", Charles noted, kissing the top of his son's head and getting up to face you, "and you too, amour, have a good day", he kisser your lips.

Grabbing your bag and Hervé's hand, you saw Charles bend down to face your bump, "and you, little one, I hope you have a good day too, no messing around, okay?", he gently caressed your small baby bump. To anyone else, you probably looked bloated, but Charles couldn't help himself anytime he was near you. After all, you were once again making one of his dreams come true and he wanted to love on you as much as he could, especially when this time around, morning sickness was more of an all day thing.

"Have a good day too, handsome. I'll see you later!", you headed out of the door first, helping your son into his car seat before safely strapping him in and getting on the driver's seat.

Arriving at Pascale's, you knocked on her door and she quickly answered it, "hello, mon petit! Are we going to have a big adventure today?", she laughed at her grandson's excitement upon seeing her, "again, thank you so much, Pascale, you're our saviour", you thanked, kissing her cheek as you bid them goodbye, "be good for grand-mère, okay my love?", you ruffled Hervé's hair, kissing his forehead and helping him inside, "Can we bake a cake?", he asked his grandmother, "That's a lovely idea! To the kitchen we go! Have a good day, chérie!", she yelled, closing the door quickly with one hand as her other hand was being pulled to the kitchen.

The workload for the day wasn't a lot compared to most days, and the morning meetings had been quite okay, and for what felt like after a really long time, you had been able to keep your food down despite the cramps you felt. After all, food barely got that far on your system, so much so that your body was unsure of what to do.

The afternoon meeting was going at a slower pace because the matters in discussion required it, "but I think this would be better for all the patients that work until five. I won't the the one for all of those appointments, and maybe I can't assure the ones until eight or nine o'clock at night, but I know Emilia prefers the later hours", you turned to her, "yes, for me personally it's easier if I get here later and leave later, my daughter's school is flexible, and my wife can pick her up", she reasoned, "so, like this, we can get to more people", one of your other colleagues smiled, writing down the ideas so you could close another topic.

You adjusted your position on the chair, hoping to find one more comfortable when you felt something on your underwear, "did you just pee yourself, Y/N?", you mumbled to yourself, excusing yourself from the meeting so you could go to the bathroom.

Reaching the stall, you untucked your shirt from your pants and pulled them down, underwear included to see a red stain. That was not good, you thought, seeing that it wasn't some small skin knick from the elasticated fabric.

Trying to stay as calm as you could, you called for Emilia, "what's up? Do you need me to unfasten your bra again? I told you your boobs grew at least two cup size- oh", she stopped as soon as she saw your trembling lip, "what's wrong?", she wondered, "I'm bleeding, it's not a lot, but I don't think this is the spotting they say. Can you take me to the hospital, please?", you murmured, accepting her hand as she helped you out of the bathroom.

"You guys carry on with the meeting, okay? I need to take Y/N to the hospital to get checked out", Emilia announced to the room, receiving a million and one questions, "let us know if you need enything, okay?", Nora, one of your older colleagues said. Unlike the most of the team, Nora was already a grandmother and almost like a mother to everyone who worked with you, and she had been the one to tell you to take a pregnancy test, and now, to catch on what was happening, "Y/N", she called for you, seeing your scared face, "everything is going to be alright, yes? You're one of the strongest women I've ever met. I know its difficult, but try not to think the worst, okay. We love you and we are here for you", she smiled reassuringly, kissing your forehead.

Seeing Emilia leave the meeting room with your phone and wallet, "I have your documentation and your phone here, let's go", she calmly said, not wanting to add to the turmoil of emotions you were already feeling.

"I'll ruin your seats", you thought out loud once you got to her car, "here! Let me put this down", Emilia thought fast, grabbing what looked like her daughter's towell, "Laura said that she doesn't like it anyway", she tried to get your mind off and distract you as you sat down and she started driving, "claims it's not sparkly enough and it doesn't match her personality. Can you believe that? A towell doesn't match the personality of a five year old!", she smiled apologetically, "are you in pain?", she questioned, "just cramps, but very small ones, they're barely there if I don't pay attention honestly", you breathed out, "it's two minutes to the hospital", she checked.

Arriving at the hospital, the emergency room was packed and you looked around in a fret, knowing that it would be a while for someone to get to you. Emilia saw someone in scrubs and that was enough for her, "sorry, excuse us, doctor! My friend here is bleeding", she yelled through the room, hoping to catch his attention, "I feel it down my pants", you gulped as the effort you had been putting on not crying long gone as tears fell on your cheeks, "I'm a nurse, let me", he encouraged you as he bent down to carry you, placing one arm under your knees and one around your back as he walked as quickly as he could into the corridor, "pregnant woman, early thirties, bleeding in what could be a potential miscarriage!", he yelled, grabbing the attention of some of his colleagues as they took a good look at your situation, one of them grabbing a wheel chair and approaching you, "Hi, we are going to take care of you two, okay? I just need your ID", she soflty said as Emilia handed it to her, "now let's go and see what is happening here", the male nurse wheeled you to the room where they kept the emergency ultrasound, "there's a lot of blood", you mentioned, not enjoying the silence despite the rush around you, "Hi, Y/N, let's see, okay? Yu know this could be a-", the doctor who had just arrived began, "A miscarriage, I know, I- I can feel that I'm bleeding a lot", you whispered, "I'm going to examine you now", she informed, working up the machine and looking at the screen, "Oh, here they are", she pointed to the screen, urging one of the nurses to use the cardiac monitor so you could hear the baby's heartbeat, "this is your baby's heartbeat, Y/N. Your baby is here", she showed you. And it triggered you to cry a little bit more, looking at Emilia as she squeezed your hand.

"Still,", the doctor noted, cleaning up the device before she made room so the nurses would help with the rest, "this could mean two things: you could've had a placental abruption, and they tend to solve on their own with bed rest, but it could also be the start of a miscarriage. Medically, we can't tell them apart until it happens, there's no medication we can give you that can help, so I'd like to keep you for observation", she stated, earning your nod as you felt the nurses help you into a clean wheelchair, ready to take you up to a room.

After cleaning and freshening up as you could, you looked at the clock and gathered that it was time to call Charles, "I've texted the team to let them know how you were doing already", Emilia said as she handed you your phone, "thanks", you mumbled, taking a deep breath before hitting the call icon so you could speak to your husband, knowing his meeting was finished by now, "Hello, amour. I was just about to call you and ask if you wanted me to pick up Hervé", your husband said on the other end of the line, "Hi, actually, you might want to put that off. When I was at work, I noticed I was bleeding in my underwear, so Emilia took me to the hospital and they're keeping me for observation. But I heard the baby's heartbeat", you said all in one go, "are you feeling good?", you heard the strained tone of Charles' voice, "yes, but, I want you here", you gulped, "I'm on my way, mon amour. I love you, okay? I'll be there in a bit", Charles said before he dialed off the call.

"I'll be here until Charles gets here", Emilia pointed as she felt you were about to brush off the whole situation and tell her to go home, "besides, Laura would probably tell me that her backpack doesn't match her personality and, quite frankly, the day is not calling for it", she attempted to make you smile, smiling too when the corners of your lips lifted a little.

You must've have fallen asleep because you woke up with Charles' lips kissing your forehead, "hey", he called gently, "I'm already going, Y/N. I hope everything works out well", Emilia smiled as she blew you kiss, closing the door behind her.

Charles pulled the chair as close to your bed as possible, sitting down and holding your hand in his, "hi", you murmured, unsure of how to begin the conversation, "I'm glad you're here".

Your husband was quick however, "of course, my love. I texted my mum and she said she doesn't mind having Hervé spend a few days with her", he began, "and how are you feeling? What happened?", he asked gently.

You were explaining what happened, from the moment you left the meeting until the doctor examined when you heard a knock on the door, the nurse and doctor that had checked you in asking if they could check on you.

"This is Charles, my husband", you introduced, seeing him shake their hands, "thank you so much for what you've done while I wasn't here", he thanked them, waiting for them to continue and explain what had happened to you so he too could hear it.

"So now we just wait?", he questioned, "yes, unfortunately we don't have any other way to deal with this situation other than bed rest", she explained, "from the scans we did earlier, it seems like it's not a big situation, but I understand your worries and doubts. This is a worrisome situation, but we are doing everything we can to make sure your baby stays safe in your uterus", she smiled, looking at the CTG machine, "your baby looks comfortable, and their heartbeat is good, very strong", she allowed you to hear the sound, knowing it usually calms the parents a little bit to hear the noise, "the bleeding seems to have stopped to", the nurse conforted, too.

Your doctor was paged for an emergency, leaving you with the nurse that had initially helped you, "I wanted to thank you for what you did to my wife, I really appreciate it", Charles said, "my wife and I also had a scare like this, so I know how it is to be on the other side. Now we have a three year old boy that resembles a storm everywhere he goes. Just take this one step at a time. By the looks of it, you should be going home tomorrow", he said, "I'm sure it will be a little better to be at home rather than here", he excused himself.

.

After one last check-up, your doctor didn't see the need to keep you at the hospital since things were looking up, prescribing you bed rest for the foreseeable weeks.

"Here, amour, are you comfortable like this?", he asked, arranging the pillows on the sofa, "I am, thank you", you whispered, kissing his cheek when he sat next to you, "one step at a time, okay?", you reassured, "is your mother still bringing Hervé? Or do you need to go and pick him up?", you wondered.

"Mum texted me saying she would leave in a few minutes, so any minute now", he smiled, "I've sent an email to the team, and now that there's a break, they need me a little less so hopefully I'm home more often than I am not", Charles explained, hearing a knock on the door, "must be them".

Hervé was quick to run to greet you on the sofa, "Grand-mère said you were not feeling good, mama. Can I give you a kiss?", he asked, bring weary of approaching you, "it's okay, mon ange, I'm okay. You can sit here next to me", you smiled, opening your arms so he could cuddle your side, "I told him he needed to be careful now and that he should be even more well behaved now so he could help mama get better and help papa, too", Pascale added, approaching you and kissing your forehead lovingly, "all will be well, chérie", she whispered, leaving you three.

"Mama, I made you a drawing", Hervé announced, grabbing the sheet of paper from his backpack and showing it, "it's a sun, some clouds and a rainbow. Because even when it rains, sometimes you see a rainbow", he announced happily, "That's right, my love", you cheered, feeling Charles sit next to you on the sofa, "I have you boys with me, there is no rain that is going to bring any harm", you expressed your gratitude, feeling Charles embrace you both while Hervé picked out a movie for you to watch.

.

Hervé walked hand in hand with his gradmother after she picked him up from pre-school, "I'm going to see my mama and my sister," he announced to anyone that they crossed on the hospital corridor, his big brother badge earning many smiles and compliments on the labour ward, "mama and papa are in that room there, but do you remember what I told you, mon petit?", Pascalr asked softly, earning a nod, "mama needs to rest, and I have to be careful with her tummy because that is where Amélie came from", he said, "And your voice?", she smiled, "quiet voice", he nodded before she knocked on the door, Charles coming to open it and greet his eldest and his mother.

Hervé curiously looked around, taking everything in and seeing you on the bed with your daughter sleeping on your chest, "Mama", he whispered, approaching you.

Charles helped him up to sit on the bed next to you without hurting you before greeting his mother, thanking her for looking after the little boy, "Hey mon petit, how are you?", you brushed his soft hair with your fingers, not receiving an answer as he was mesmerised with the little baby on your chest, "can I touch her cheek?", he asked, his little hand stretching, "of course, mon ange", you urged, seeing Charles and Pascale sit on the sofa by the window.

"Her skin is so soft", he noted, earning chuckles from everyone, "it is, very soft", Charles agreed as he watched Hervé completely mesmerised with his sister, "is she going to join us when me and papa go see the karts?", "when she's older, yes. For now we'll stick to laying on us, letting her sleep and some tummy time later".

[kaszuma]

Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[sierra-r-a-e]

I have been absolutely CRAVING writing these past few weeks, so enjoy this little thing I wrote to quench my thirst!! ✦

MommyKink!Choso x fem!Reader

MDNI under the cut

Choso always looked so pretty, no matter what he was doing. Whether he was sitting there staring off into space or doing some sort of task— but he looked especially pretty when his lengthy cock was stuffed down your throat as he writhed in pleasure. His head was thrown back and he tried to keep his eyes open to look at you as you sloppily sucked him off. He looked down at you with lidded eyes, moaning and whimpering as if having neighbors were a foreign concept to him.

Seeing you kneeling between his legs, your mouth stuffed full of his cock, and your lips shiny with spit has him absolutely reeling. His mind was clouded with pleasure as he fisted the couch cushion, trying to keep it together.

A dark blush coated his cheeks as he begged, "Please, please don't stop, 'm so close~" You continued to suck him off, desperate to see him fall apart right in front of you. He held your hair up in a makeshift ponytail— just as you had taught him to do. Taking him as far down your throat as possible, then bringing your head back up to swirl your tongue around his ever-so-sensitive tip.

That's when he said it, "Mommy please, you're gonna make me cum~!" You moan around his length, heat immediately rushing straight to your core, making your knees go weak. You never knew that one word could have such an effect on you, yet here you are.

You pull off him with a soft 'pop', continuing to jerk him off with your hand. "Fuck, please call me that again-", you say breathlessly, looking up at him with hazy eyes, then going back to sucking him off just the way he likes it.

Hearing your plea nearly sends him over the edge, absentmindedly tugging on your hair, he whimpers out one more "Mommy, please~" Hearing that come out of his mouth has you over the moon. You moan around his cock once more, the vibrations sending him tipping over.

He finishes with a loud moan of your name, his hips involuntarily thrusting up into your mouth as he rides out his high. You swear that you could've came just from listening to the sounds he makes, or watching his eyes roll back into his head from the overwhelming pleasure he felt.

After pulling off of his now softening cock, you take a moment to catch your breath. You swallow every bit of his release as he stares down at you with both love, and lust.

"So, what was all that about, hm?" You ask in a teasingly, trying to get a reaction out of him. He immediately avoids eye contact and looks down, a pink color beginning to coat his cheeks.

"Aw, I'm just teasing," you say slowly standing up to press a kiss to his forehead. "I actually really liked it." You continue, moving to sit down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. Little did you know how much your comment affected him— in the best way.

Wc: 512

Thank you so much for reading!

This is the first thing that I've ever written and posted, so bear with me if it's absolutely atrocious. (´•̥ ᵔ •̥`)

Divider credits go to @ saradika-graphics

[fiepige]

The Venom!Hobie brainrot is real! Finally came up with a fic idea (that I can actually see myself write) while thinking about them all day at work lol

[eff-plays]

Long Taash storyline rant, by an enby

Listen. At first I was honestly not that offended/upset with the Taash enby stuff. And having an enby Rook who was able to help them out was honestly pretty fun. It was definitely the first time any video game engaged directly with nonbinary identity like this, and while it's not really 1-1 with my own experiences, I thought that it was. Fine? Ya know? I thought it was a very novel experience to finally have a fellow enby NPC that you could talk to about being nonbinary. It's never happened in any other game I've played.

But then it just ... kept going. And on one hand I get it, because you don't just decide your nonbinary and that's it -- it's a process. But the way it's handled is absolutely insane to me. First of all, how old is Taash supposed to be? They give off whiny teen vibes, and it's very off-putting. This is the character that's meant to represent me? Why are they written like a child?

Second, why are we using modern terms? The word "nonbinary" IRL exists because it is a rejection of the Western gender binary. It's a specific term that isn't universal, and since no previous game bothers to engage with the gender roles of Thedas to begin with, it's absolutely insane to hear these hyperspecific terms used in this made-up fantasy world. Especially since the Qun already has words and concepts for their gender roles -- why didn't BioWare just base this story on those? Why not try to contextualize this in-universe? There are other nonbinary characters in the game, but they just popped up in this previously unequal and often sexist world and are just vibing. With no explanation. Who's out there doing thedosian gender studies? How are they spreading these revolutionary concepts so far and so quickly that the terminology becomes universal?

Side note on that, why does Taash have a little counselling session with the other two trans people that sounds like something they'd do in sex ed class (in Sweden, anyway)? Why is this happening during a magical apocalypse? Hello? Look at this fucking codex entry and try not to cringe

Like. Who is this for? This doesn't make me feel good as a nonbinary person. This makes me feel like a freak, out-of-place, and like I'm a fucking baby that needs my existence validated by some fucking bitchass video game codex entry preaching at me about how totally valid I am. This doesn't feel like respect, or inclusion -- it feels patronizing. It feels corporate, like we're ticking off boxes. "Look everyone, we're using the appropriate terminology! We're so inclusive!" And you know what? The fucking anti-woke chuds are gonna look at this and think THIS is me. That all I care about is having my terminology and identity carelessly stuffed into places just so I can feel good about who I am.

And before tumblrinas get upset, I'm not saying I don't want rep, or that I'm one of the "good ones" who wants video games to be free of "ideology." I am one of the bad ones. Taash should be nonbinary and I should be able to play a nonbinary Rook and I want both of those things to be explicit and accepted in-game! But I want those in a way that respects me and my intelligence, and the world BioWare has created that I've come to love. Who is preventing BioWare from actually, ya know, unwrapping the sexism and misogyny that they started in Origins? Who's stopping them from actually tackling the gender politics of Thedas? Why don't we ACTUALLY sit down and figure out how a society like the Qun might approach somebody not willing or able to conform to their particular rules? Especially the Qun. Like, they had so much potential for something actually interesting here, and instead it's "mom it's not a phase, respect meeeeee!"

Third, and this is my favorite fucking part, they tie Taash's gender to their background, where the Qun represents conformity and Rivain represents freedom. (Which is an entire can of worms in itself that I won't go into here.) I don't actually mind this? I have some extra special boy insight on this part of the quest, because I am also an immigrant who was born in one country and grew up in another. Being nonbinary and being an immigrant, while separate, have both had a similar effect in my life. It's left me feeling like I don't belong anywhere at times, like I'm something different and strange, and at times like I'm a kaleidoscope of expression and freedom, with unique experiences not everyone has. There is an absolutely valid intersection there that could have been explored and would've been very impactful if done right.

But instead we get this

Hello? Oh my god HELLO?

Why is there a BINARY CHOICE in a story where a character embraces being NONBINARY? Why are we now equating Taash's background and cultural belonging to the demands of their mother? You can reject what your parent is forcing you into without completely rejecting your culture! Am I fucking taking crazy pills right now?

The idea that Taash, upon discovering they're nonbinary, has to now say goodbye to being a Qunari? When they weren't even ever shown to care about the Qun in the first place? WHY IS THIS A CHOICE THAT HAS TO BE MADE? WHY ARE THEY ASKING ME WHETHER THEY SHOULD CONTINUE FOLLOWING THIS CREED THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT? (Side note: why did their mother escape from the Qun only to enforce it herself?)

Like? You can't spend a whole fucking subplot deciding you're neither a man nor a woman, but then equate being nonbinary to being Rivaini, and thinking you need to pick that or being Qunari. I'm sorry? I'm sorry? I'm sorry?

Why is there no third choice? Why is there no "Hey you can be both" or "Hey just pick whatever from either culture you want to keep and throw away what you don't?"

I am going insane. The game sits you down and condescends at you for ages about basic contemporary gender theory, but then tries to inexplicably tie that to Taash's cultural background, but then doesn't bother examining how those cultures treat gender at all, and then finally forces us into a binary choice ... for a character whose entire fucking personality is "nonbinary."

The Qun is a misogynistic society. Rivain is a matriarchal society. (This was true for the previous games, at least.) The way these cultures approach gender is vastly different. But instead of examining how such a person would struggle with their background and how that would tie into their gender identity, it's just "Rivain good" and "Qun bad." Pick one or the other. Conform or rebel. Pick one or the other.

And that's the storyline of the nonbinary character.

The reactionary chuds will hate this and blame nonbinary people for how much this fucking sucks. While I can't claim or enjoy it because it's corporate nonsense and fucking sucks. All this does is show people that when games include enby rep, it's hack shit like this, so why include it if it's gonna suck ass, right? This bad writing will just make your game worse, so don't bother!

So yeah. Cool.

Thanks, BioWare. I hope whatever you were trying to prove was worth it.

[readychilledwine]

The Cursed Ballet

Eris Week - Day 6 - AUs and Retellings

(Swan Lake)

Summary - As war with the Deathless God approaches, a new dancer entered Autumn turning Eris's world inside out.

Warnings - Beron, curses, Eris kind of being a male-whore to add interest later

A/N - Happy Day 6 of @erisweekofficial! So listen, I've written this 4 times and settled on it being a 3 part mini series. Otherwise, it got far too long, and I was worried people would lose interest. I love this concept, though, and I'm very excited to share it with you all.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Instruments being tuned as a stage was set were familiar noises to you. Especially now that your life has been flipped upside down.

You continued lacing the ribbons of your ballet flats, no one looking at you. No one even acknowledging your very existence. Why would they, though?

A human in the Autumn Court. A human who, to them, somehow stole the lead spot in this performance from a female who had probably been training 10 times longer than you have ever been alive. You were used to this, used to being forced to travel and perform since he came and ruined everything.

You'd been to countless places the last few years, cities you had never dreamed of seeing, people and Fae you never thought you would meet. He always forced you to come back to Prythian, though. You had danced in all the mortal kingdoms, in every court. Yet for some reason he kept you here, anchored to this place like a second prison in case your body was no longer enough.

Of the 7 courts, Autumn was your favorite to dance in. The beauty of the leaves, the crisp fresh air, the well maintained stage. It was all enough to distract you from why you were truly here. From the magic the plagued your body. You finished tying the slippers around your ankles, mind trying not to linger on the curse you and your older sister now shared. “It's fine,” you whispered. “You've danced in front of thousands of fae.”

Your warm ups were spent alone as well, the isolation you were forced to endure was the cherry on top of this curse. The first contact you'd have tonight was a tall, slender female looking you up and down before declaring they were ready for you to stage.

Eris groaned from his place in his family's play box. He loved the ballet, he loved the graceful choreographed dances, the stories told through music and movement, but he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he was annoyed. 

His recent flavor of the week had been whining in his ear for 72 hours, 48 minutes, and exactly 23 seconds regarding his father's demands for a mortal girl to be put in the role of Odette. 

His current lover was pretty.

But she wasn't pretty enough for him to listen to the complaints and crying day in and night out. 

Eris felt himself freezing as the human girl took the stage. Every movement was clean, exact, graceful. She may as well have been fae with the way she made it seem as though she was the music. He didn't clock his father's smirk, the look of sick satisfaction Beron had. 

“Pretty little thing, isn't she,” Beron said softly to him. “And so very talented for being human.” 

Eris nodded, “Does she.. look familiar?” Flaming red hair in a tight bun, long elegant limbs. Her nose, the shape of her eyes, all of it felt so familiar to Eris, yet he could not place her. 

That is, until the scene.

Eris looked at his father, the High Lord still smirking in his seat, “And why is one of his spies here?”

Beron rolled his eyes, glancing at Eris as the fae applauded, throwing flowers to the mortal girl. “He needed someone to keep an eye on her while he handled more pressing matters.”

“He, an all powerful sorcerer, could not handle taking a 26 year old human female with him to handle matters?”

“I've heard she's rebellious,” Beron stood as the girl exited the stage. “Besides, she requires water at night.”

Eris's eyes slowly shut, but he followed Beron, the understanding of that cryptic message hitting his heart. 

You tried not to be afraid as Beron Vanserra dragged you through the gardens of the Forest House by your upper arm. His son followed behind you two, refusing to look your way. “Please, you are hurting me.”

“I was informed you needed a heavy hand. He may tolerate your games, but I will not, girl.” 

It was a moment Eris would remember long after she was gone, his father throwing a mortal woman to the mudded ground. The noise she made on impact had him shifting from side to side, eagerly awaiting Beron's departure from Crystal Lake. 

“Watch her until it happens, she won't be able to leave the lake once it does. If she tried to run, kill her.” 

As soon as he was away, as soon as Eris knew they were safe, he rushed to her. “Are you alright?”

You could only nod at him, tears in your eyes as a nearly silent sob managed to make it's way through your throat. 

“Does she know you're here,” Eris asked gently. “Does Vassa know you're here?”

“No,” Your tone was firm. “My presence here is a trap. For your brother, Jurian, and her.”

Eris processed the information like a complex novel, “He's near, isn't he?”

You focused in on the curse that bound you to him, “Yes, but no. He's still trapped on his lake, but he can.. project himself for small amounts of time.”

Your eyes finally met his and Eris's whole world shifted and changed. 

The bond was dull due to only being able to half click into place, but it was there, creating a harmonious rhythm with his own heartbeat as the moon began to rise behind the two of you. 

He understood why you would need the lake then, what your curse had been. Glowing golden light surrounded you, engulfing your figure before dying out. 

And now Eris found himself trapped watching as his mate got into the water, defeat clear in even this form. 

“Rhysand,” he called in his mind. “We have a complication.”

He sent Rhysand what had just happened, sent him the image of you floating on the clear waters of the lake. 

“Be careful,” Rhysand's voice came back slowly. “Vassa says her sister's curse is more dangerous than her own.” 

But Eris didn't respond, his eyes on the swan that had taken the place of his mate. 

How absolutely cruel to curse Vassa to her bird form by day and to be a woman by night, but you a woman by day, swan by night.

Two sisters left chasing each other. 

A curse Eris now made his personal mission to break.

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[autisticrosewilson]

Hello to the one blog I've been loving to read for the past few days :) <3

Just wanted to add a little something that I started thinking abt after reading a few of your really cool posts, I think we should also discuss abt how Bruce's argument abt killing (with Jay) are often framed with "you're not the judge, jury & the executioner" which is really telling of who he thinks can exersise this legitimately? ? ?

I think it'd be constructive to actually properly discuss this aspect of Bruce's philosophy too. Plus, we get more nuanced Bruce characterisation. (Also keeping in mind uh... comic book propaganda of the writers and DC themselves)

YES ABSOLUTELY! Like what if someone is given a death sentence by a court of law? Does Bruce still care? I'm sure most writers would tell you no because Bruce has become a cop allegory. He's a violent enforcer of the law, and he seeks to uphold the law. Which is a recent switch! Batman comics used to be more radical, but now they're being written by old white men. So it's another one of those things where you can ignore it for your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION but you can't say that it's not A Thing because it's been like this for at least a decade.

His argument would likely be that everyone deserves a fair trial, that everyone has the right to be seen in court. Something which I do think Jason would agree with because when he's being written well he's not just shooting petty criminals! Jason's stance comes in with the big players, the disgustingly rich or well connected upper class who get away with murder. This has been true since the Garzonas case, the whole point was that Felipe was virtually immune to the law, and Jason couldn't allow that.

I think what it comes down to is whether they believe in reformative justice or punitive Justice, and I can most assuredly say that Batman believes in the latter. You can argue that Bruce is an advocate of prison reform but we don't really have evidence of that. He considers himself a punishment for criminals, he considers himself an equalizer but that's not true because he just delivers criminals into a system that is fundamentally corrupt and unfair. Do you actually think a trial in GOTHAM of all places is going to look at a rich man vs a petty crook the same way? That rarely happens even in real life.

And I don't think that Bruce does what he does out of inherent malice. Bruce is a deeply empathetic person, the core of Bruce Wayne is that he cares. But that's not enough, Bruce was allowed to grow up sheltered and it gave him an intrinsic idealism. He only has a Birdseye view of what the common people go through, that is not enough to stand there and say that he understands . Because he doesn't. He literally can't. And I think this bias, certainly one projected by the writers but that's another issue, comes through the most with Jason and Steph.

As far back as Jason's Robin era - widely regarded as Bruce's peak of being a good dad - he still makes some pretty big mistakes. Because he finds this homeless kid whose family has been ripped apart by the corrupted systems, who has actively experienced the worst Gotham has to offer, and he comes to the conclusion that if he doesn't take Jason home Jason will inevitably become a criminal even after Jason explicitly says he doesn't like stealing. So he takes Jason in but he makes that position as his son synonymous with Robin. And this is where we have to talk about meta because Jason is intrinsically tied to meta narratives. I'm not sure if you saw my other posts about Robin, as a concept, but I'll summarize here.

Child sidekicks are fine, in early comics. When things were campy light hearted whodunnit mysteries with a few action sequences, when you always knew that the child hero would come out unscathed, would always live till the next issue. And so when Bruce makes Jason Robin you have this veil of suspension of disbelief. But Jason's era is where you start seeing these kids' storylines get worse. More gruesome, more violent, more cruel. They start really testing the limit of Bruce's morality.

Batman: The Cult - Robin Jason has to crawl through a pile of dead bodies and while Bruce is having a mental break this MAYBE 14 year old is trying to get them out. The Diplomats Son - Jason watches a rapist be let go, because he's powerful and his dad has money. He sees exactly the kind of damage it does to the victims, he's the one who finds Gloria Stanson. A Death in the Family - Jason is murdered. Tortured and murdered and betrayed. He's dead and he was always intended to STAY dead. And all throughout Tim's run and then into Steph's the writers retroactively change everything about who Jason was because it has to be HIS fault, because if it's not Jason's fault then it might be Bruce's. Because how can audiences see Bruce as just and good for taking in new kids after what happened to the last one?

The suspension of disbelief shatters. Because now Jason is back and he's angry. Because maybe we as readers know that Tim, and Steph, and Damian need to be Robin because Robin makes money with young readers. But you know who doesn't know that? Jason, who no doubt assumed that his survival depended on being Robin. Who was sold out because he was Robin. Who was badmouthed and disgraced the entire time he was gone by people he loved and trusted. Jason doesn't know that he's in a comic book, but I argue he knows he's in a Batman story.

If not from his first appearance then definitely in recent ones. What can you do besides lay down and forgive and keep coming back when you know that the universe revolves around one man? How do you get rid of the terror and anger at realizing that you can never leave, that no matter how much he hurts you the universe will bend itself in half so that he is still just and right? When you realize that the love that has defined you is a disease rooted so deeply that to rip it out would be to kill yourself, that you can't even stay dead because Bruce does not want you to be.

And they couldn't even stick to Jason being the problem! Because then Steph dies. And all I could think was "Of course she did. She's an East End girl whose been compared to Jason constantly. Or a version of him. Of course she would be tortured to death trying to get Bruce's approval." Here we are, history has literally repeated itself, and...Tim is Robin again. Why? Because this is a comic book, and Batman needs Robin.

But what do you think everyone in-universe thinks? What do you think that looks like? How can you possibly still call Bruce a good parent under these circumstances? Bruce calls Robin a blessing, a gift, a necessity. He relies on Robin, physically to watch his back and emotionally to keep him in line. He trains them, he molds them, he loves them.

But sometimes love just isn't enough and the good Robin does shouldn't negate the harm they get in the process. Robin then becomes this horrible force of change, you get it and you know that this has doomed you, one way or another. Because Bruce believes that suffering is noble, that pain can reform people. It's baked into his character. Even if he doesn't intend to hurt his kids, it's not like we haven't seen him justify it to himself and others. "I love you, I did this for your own good, I thought I could help you, it was your fault I did that, it won't happen again, I lost control of myself but only this once, we can be a family again if you just come home." It reads an awful lot like an abuser trying to convince you or himself that he's not in the wrong.

This was longer than I intended it to be, but I guess my main point is that Bruce and Batman can't ever be fully separated. Something that I think his relationship with Cass shows us he's aware of but chooses to ignore. We know that Batman is dangerous, that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt his kids, we saw that with Zurr-Batman (WHO BRUCE ADMITTED WAS A FACET OF HIMSELF YOU CAN'T SAY IT WASN'T HIM BECAUSE HE HIMSELF SAID THAT IT WAS). So why try and act like it's this impossible out of character thing for Bruce to be harmful? For his kids to feel angry and hurt about his actions or for their feelings to be as or more valid than Bruce's. Batman has and will hurt his kids and Bruce will try to rationalize it all away because he loves them, he would never want to hurt them. And the narrative will tell us that Bruce is right, that this is good and fair and just, that Bruce's perspective is the correct one, that his kids deserve this, because this is a comic book and outrage sells. Or they'll retcon it and pretend it never happened. Or they'll just never bring it up again. Or Bruce will be forgiven regardless just to hammer home how good and right he is.

Because this is a comic book about Batman, and Batman is a hero, he is our protagonist, and so he is reliable and we should never doubt him, or call him out, or be mad at him. Naturally.