#still always fun to see him pop up with a more juvenile look

[mariocki]

A fleeting appearance by Gareth Thomas as Briggs, running a car hire service (but not delivering customer satisfaction) in Public Eye: The Man Who Didn’t Eat Sweets (5.9, Thames, 1971)

[murdockparker]

Promises, Promises

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?

A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now

An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.

“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular. 

“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”

“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”

“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”

“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”

He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”

“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”

She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”

“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”

“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”

She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”

“I’ll shower!”

“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”

“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about. 

“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”

“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”

“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”

“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.

“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”

“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.���

The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks. 

“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”

“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”

“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”

It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff. 

“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”

“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”

“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that. 

“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”

“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”

“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”

She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”

“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”

“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”

“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”

“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh. 

“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”

Ten years.

Ten years with her. 

The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness. 

“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”

“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”

“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”

“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”

“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.

“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”

“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you not agree?”

“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”

“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”

“Because the sex is that good?”

“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.

“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”

“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”

“Pretty boyfriend?” 

“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”

“Which ones?”

A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”

Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart. 

“Are you gonna press play?”

He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”

She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.

—

Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Apartment listings. 

She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them. 

She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever. 

Forever.

That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp. 

“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary. 

She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow. 

—

“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”

“At the laundromat?”

(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”

“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”

“Magazines from years ago—”

“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”

She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”

“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”

“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”

“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”

“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.

“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”

“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”

“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”

“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”

“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”

The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit. 

“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer. 

“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”

She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”

“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”

“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky. 

Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be. 

“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”

“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”

“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”

“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”

She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”

He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”

“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size? 

“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”

“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”

She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”

He meant that. 

She knew he meant that.

“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”

Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”

“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”

He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”

“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face. 

“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”

A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”

“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”

“You’d say yes if I asked?”

“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”

“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”

“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”

“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to. 

Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off. 

“Pete,” she said, pulling back.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter. 

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”

“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”

“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”

“Romantic.”

“Then my husband,” she teased. 

“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”

“We could hyphenate?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”

“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”

“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”

“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”

Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”

She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”

A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

[devitalise]

IMO CHEESEHAIR I still need to sit with my roundup but lest I make you wait any longer — January reads pls!!! 🤲 did you set out to read the specific books you read, or did it just kinda end up that way? & do you have a plan for this month's reads? 💭

CAS DJSERVO you'd think i'd be even a little bit prepped to do a book wrap up, but january was so long and so short! i didn't go in with any specifics, i went away on a work trip and was kind of just left with my kindle picks. got to say, can't do back to back to back kindle reads, i like to break it up with a physical book just for the act of reading but anyways here's my

january book wrap up

fight club by chuck palahniuk

entered the fight club universe. i still haven't watched the movie, so i was able to go into this completely unaware of anything to do with the plot. it was actually quite easy to get into this independent of the cult-classic-coming-of-age-must-watch surrounding the book and movie. palahniuk is a decent writer, the snapshot jumpiness of the prose paid off. neat.

podcasts: bookwasted. music: fight club original score

checkout 19 by claire-louise bennett

i almost put this one down due to a mix of me not being in the right headspace to really get into the book, and the rhythm of the book not fully settling for me until around the 30% mark. but i got through it, and once i got into it, i was in. stream of consciousness with a twist, as the narrator makes sense of her own memory through remembering reading, relationships, class and money. a lot of meat for a concept that seems pretty threadbare.

podcasts: shakespeare and company music: severance soundtrack

please look after mother by shin kyung-sook

not liking a book written in second person feels blasphemous for me, i love second person sooo much! but there was a real disconnect for me here. definitely in the story. struggled to stay engaged with this book, the realisations the characters were having felt so juvenile and very early-adulthood. some of the perspective and time changes were a bit confusing too.

couldn't find a podcast for this. music: pachinko soundtrack

just by looking at him by ryan o'connell

this book was just so raunchy and fun! one of my aims for the year is to seek out more disabled representation in the books i read, and this book was just so perfect. elliot is infallible, he's real, and being in his head and his world was so dramatic and true to life i feel. a time capsule of a read, so present without being cringy.

review: bookish magazine music: good with any kind of pop

their eyes were watching god by zora neale hurston

yeah. i haven't written a review on goodreads yet, just because i want to sit with this book for a bit longer. this is an incredible book, and i don't think i could have read it at any other time in my life. this is so ahead of its time, i can't believe it was published in the 30s. all it has to say on love and community and hurston's ability to capture a time on paper is so inspiring. i love janie as a heroine, as a woman, as someone who allows herself to change in her circumstances but always know who she is at heart. one of my top of the year (no it's not too early to say that!)

podcasts: novel pairings and black chick lit music: reader made playlist

feb reads: i have another country by james baldwin picked out as my next read! i'm honestly not too sure what's after that. my book ban is still going strong, i have 47 titles to pick from so i'll see where i end up!

[not-bcring]

「 ☆ 」 Innocent a question as it may have been, it still causes Ayumu pause. If only because he's stuck on how to answer. The first food to arise doesn't feel as though it ❛ counts ❜ , Ayumu's mind immediately filled with visions of cakes littered with strawberries. Moist and soft with bright red chopped up and stuffed in the middle, smooth cream atop and even more of those delightful fruits as adornment. The perfect blend of sweet and slightly tart... but dessert doesn't count as FOOD. Right? No, that's the answer of a child and strangely enough the thought of coming across as so blatantly juvenile causes him pause.

Taken aback by the unexpected bout of insecurity— something Ayumu is NOT supposed to be the one experiencing —brows knit as he tries to think of something more suitable. Lightly popping his lips, he raises his gaze to the ceiling and emits a contemplative hum. Honestly, it doesn't take long for another answer to arise... but this one is hardly comforting. Still, he HAD been badgering Daisuke about opening up more. How could he expect the other to do so if he can't even divulge something as unimportant as this? Ayumu could always lie... but that feels- overreactive.

Too cowardly for his liking.

❝ Don't... make fun of me for this. ❞ Ayumu reluctantly begins, fair skin heating up as he releases a semi-irritated huff. Crossed arms rest on the table, Ayumu leaning forward as he absentmindedly fiddles with a page of an open textbook. One of the many cast aside in favor of their game. ❝ ... Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. ❞ It's admitted in less performative of a voice as his earlier teases, a mumble more suited to a library. With a small pout, he looks at Daisuke, pausing for a breath as if waiting to see if the reaction is worth getting upset over... before he explains—

❝ I know it's nothing special and isn't even that hard to make but... that's kind of the point. ❞ With a shrug, he averts his gaze and flicks at the book again, finding himself doing the last thing he expected when he coerced invited Daisuke to the library. Talking about his childhood. ❝ When I was a kid, I was left on my own a lot... So I had to figure out how to feed myself. I can cook now but, back then— your options are limited when you're starting out. And even if I could make something else, usually I settled for a sandwich. ❞ It was one of the first things he learned how to make. One of the first things that helped calm him down when there was no one to do so... Stupid as it was, making it helped him feel accomplished. Secure.

Like he could take care of himself ( he would be alright, even if no one else wanted to ) Albeit in the most basic way. Besides— soft bread, rich peanut butter, sweet strawberry... What's not to like? To this day, there's something embarrassingly therapeutic about the taste.

❝ There's just something... good about it. ❞ Ayumu vaguely admits, unwilling to explain further. Hastily attempting to save face, he sucks in a breath and sits up straight. Redirecting attention on Daisuke, tone is once again chipper. ❝ Alright, now that you've seen how it's done— Truth or Dare? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

If Ayumu was right about one thing, it was that hanging out with him was an indulgence, one that he absolutely couldn't be caught doing but did anyways. He couldn't say no whenever Ayumu asked to do something with him, always getting too flustered to say much of anything. Even if he could say something, Ayumu was pretty... persistent. He would keep coming back, asking to do different activities with him. Most of the time, he wasn't the only one invited along, and he usually went then unless he had a reason not to. Meanwhile, he agreed to hang out with just the two of them very rarely, only if it seemed relatively harmless.

Studying in the library was suppose to be relatively harmless.

Continuing to level Ayumu with an unimpressed yet amused stare, Daisuke gave a small huff of amusement at the other's posturing. "Okay, Mr. Truth or Dare... Let's see...," he said, humming in thought. What to ask? He wasn't in this to make the other admit to some deep-rooted trauma or insecurity like Ayumu clearly was, but he had been wanting to get to know the pink-haired menace better. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

"What is your favorite type of food? When you want something to eat, what is your got to?" he asked.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Polyphonic - ao3 or tumblr pt 1

“Meet me on the Qiongqi Path if you want to talk,” the return letter from Wei Wuxian said, cold and distant, and so Lan Qiren went, grumbling the entire time.

He was far too old for this sort of nonsense. For all that his sword was named after the soaring of the heart, a memento of all his lost dreams, he didn’t actually fly on Xinfei all that much – after all, he was not a traveler, he did not go places. He remained home.

But for his nephew’s sake…

Lan Qiren did not take anyone with him when he went, not wanting to burden anyone else with his worries and concerns and unwilling to share them; instead, he took only his sword and his guqin on his back, as if he were Lan Wangji going out on a night-hunt.

It occurred to him as he flew towards the Qiongqi Path that that probably meant that his opinion on Wei Wuxian was not so dire as all that. It was nowhere within his expectations that Wei Wuxian would attack him, as if he were some sort of ravening dog. Lan Qiren knew himself well enough to know that if he truly thought that of Wei Wuxian, he wouldn’t have asked him for help in the first place.

That still didn’t mean he thought it was a good idea for Lan Wangji to associate with him.

Nor did it mean he had to make things easy for him.

“Wei Wuxian,” he bellowed in his best disappointed teacher’s voice when he saw the man, dropping lightly from the sky as he did, and had the pleasure of seeing the Yiling Patriarch jump a chi into the air and try to hide behind his Ghost General. Who then also attempted to hide behind him, leading to a rather amusing panicked shoving match of juvenile desperation to get away from an imminent scolding.

It was complimentary, if a little ridiculous. If either of them wanted to hurt him, he’d be dead so quickly that he wouldn’t even know what killed him.

“I see that I failed to teach you etiquette as well as ethics,” Lan Qiren said ponderously, accompanying his words with one of his better glares and waving the letter he had received at Wei Wuxian – he’d been shoved out in front after all. “Is this all the respect you think I am due as your teacher? A single sentence without any salutation? Summoning me to come to your side like a lapdog?”

“I didn’t think the letter was really from you!” Wei Wuxian squeaked. To judge by his expression, it appeared that he was in fact acquainted with shame, only that it had been a long time and the acquaintance had been very slight. “I thought – a prank – someone mimicking your signature –”

“Oh, we’re in trouble now,” the Ghost General murmured in a voice so soft it might have been missed, if only Lan Qiren’s ears were not quite so sharp.

Sharp enough, in fact, to hear how Wei Wuxian’s song, always a spritely thing, had grown a little slower, a little more sober, but not nearly as twisted and disharmonious as he would have expected from the stories he had heard about him. Wei Wuxian’s heart still sang free and clear, idealistic and well-meaning even if he was a little too wild, and Lan Qiren was reassured that he had come to the right person.

Wei Wuxian might be a bit of a madman, choosing demonic cultivation and defying the cultivation world as he did, making all the terrible choices that he had, but he was still a good person.

He would help.

The Ghost General, on the other hand, was in turns soft and gentle and rough and discordant, the rippling flow of his melody torn through with harsh and jagged trills like a clenching bleeding hand dragged along guqin strings, like a dying breath choked into a qiao, thick with the resentment of the unquiet dead – Lan Qiren would have to keep an eye on him.

Some classes on the subject of restraint and moderation would not go amiss, he thought, falling instinctively into analysis. That would help bring together the two sides of that personality, to soften the vicious rage and strengthen the too-weak tune…

Lan Qiren huffed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. It was too easy to slide back into the role of teacher, no matter how strange the environs – it had been a long time since he had left home, he thought, even for a night-hunt, and old habits were difficult to abandon. This trip, barely started, was already wearing on him.

He flicked his sleeve, folding his hands behind him, and began to walk in the direction of Lanling.

“Wait, your letter…did you say you wanted my help with something?” Wei Wuxian asked, his eyes wide as saucers as he hurried to catch up and fall into step behind him. “I…me? Really?”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said. “The concern is of a musical nature, and there are reasons I could not ask Wangji. You are an excellent musical cultivator. Will you assist?”

“Of course, teacher,” Wei Wuxian said automatically, and Lan Qiren smiled, pleased. “A teacher for a day, a father for a lifetime – it’s the least I can do. Only, uh, as I’m sure you know, that is…my reputation…”

“I’m aware of it.”

“Then you see why I thought your letter was a fake, don’t you? If I go to Gusu, who knows how they’d respond to seeing me – no, I do know, I know exactly what would happen. They’d lock me up!”

“Not if you were my guest,” Lan Qiren said firmly. He had that much influence in the sect, he thought, after all those years of faithful service – and in the end if they did refuse to give him any face and insist on locking Wei Wuxian up, what then? Who would they turn to in order to find the music that might heal him from his purported madness, if not Lan Qiren himself? “I would ensure that you would be free to leave as you wished.”

“Even if it’s Hanguang-jun that wants to force me to stay?” Wei Wuxian asked, a challenge in his voice.

“Have you ever heard of He Kexin?” Lan Qiren asked, and Wei Wuxian blinked and shook his head. “I wouldn’t have expected you to. A criminal of my generation, guilty of the premeditated murder of an honored teacher of the Lan sect and sentenced to indefinite confinement within the Cloud Recesses. She ultimately died when Wangji was quite young, and it affected him deeply – if you think he would force you to stay anywhere against your wishes, you have fundamentally misunderstood my nephew.”

Wei Wuxian was silent for a moment, absorbing that, and then said, “Premeditated murder of an honored teacher, huh? Is that a warning for me?”

“Is that a serious question, or are you merely curious to know if you are too old for me to smack you?” Lan Qiren asked, frowning. “The answer in either case is no.”

The Ghost General’s sleeves were all in tatters, but that didn’t stop him from trying to use them to muffle his laughter. He seemed to be enjoying his master’s misfortune.

Assuming Wei Wuxian actually was his master. There was definitely a bond of some sort there between the two of them, more intertwined than friends, less harmonious than lovers, not as echoing as that between swordsman and his spiritual weapon; Lan Qiren couldn’t quite put his finger on it. A friendship underpinned by life debts running both ways, perhaps.

Lan Qiren was unable to resist: he turned abruptly and pinned the Ghost General with a dour look. “Would you like to contribute to this discussion?”

Fierce corpses could not pale, but it seemed that they could make a facial expression that suggested they had. “No, honored teacher,” the Ghost General said, stuttering a little. “Sorry, honored teacher.”

He had once been a poor student, Lan Qiren concluded, and had the fear of teachers firmly implanted in him.

“Hmm,” he said, and then, because he could, “Name the three most commonly encountered types of ghosts.”

The Ghost General looked like he was about to faint. “I – I – I wasn’t expecting a quiz –”

“…are you teasing him?” Wei Wuxian asked, looking a bit like he was going to faint himself.

Lan Qiren shook his head, because he wasn’t, not really – or perhaps more accurately, not entirely. It was certainly part of the reason, but there was more to it than that.

Poor students often had preconceived notions of what teachers were like and were so concerned with their fears that they were unable to focus on the facts before them. In such cases, it was better to give into their assumptions in the first instance, scaring them but also showing them that their fears were insubstantial and could not harm them – for instance, that the dreaded pop quiz would not actually cause them any trouble even if they should fail to answer. Only then was it finally possible to shift over into the actual business of educating them.

It was also, admittedly, rather fun.

“I would be willing to take you as a student,” he said to the Ghost General, whose jaw dropped. “When the present business is done, and if Wei Wuxian can spare you. It would be to your benefit.”

“I – I – I –”

“Perhaps we should table the discussion for now,” Wei Wuxian said quickly, blinking rapidly as if he were attempting to wake himself from a dream. “Honored teacher, what is it that you want me to help with? You said the problem you were having is musical in nature?” His eyes brightened. “An ancient treatise, perhaps..?”

“An investigation,” Lan Qiren said, but noted to himself that it seemed that Wei Wuxian enjoyed the prospect of abstract research. Perhaps they could encourage him to do that instead of whatever it was he was doing with demonic cultivation – it wouldn’t make him an acceptable match for Lan Wangji, but in the event Lan Wangji lost all reason and insisted on the match the way his father had, it might be a good way to blunt Wei Wuxian’s edges and make him more acceptable to the rest of the world. It was much more difficult to be afraid of an eccentric academic than a slaughtering war machine.

Not that Lan Qiren would be conceding defeat so easily, mind you.

“An investigation? Really? Regarding what?”

“Attempted murder,” Lan Qiren said.

“Attempted –” Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “You said it was a musical issue!”

“It is.” Lan Qiren heard the whisper of distant bells, small and tinkling, and stopped walking with a frown.

Swordsmen flying in formation? Here? In this deserted place, where people came only to pass through?

“Did you arrange to meet anyone else?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who frowned in turn.

“Anyone else? No, of course not,” he said. “I mean, even with you, I wasn’t actually expecting someone to show up –”

The Ghost General abruptly moved, a burst of action, and caught an arrow headed straight for Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“Wei Wuxian!” someone roared, and Lan Qiren frowned: now that was an unpleasant sound. Self-absorbed and haughty, as many were, but without valor or etiquette or even courtesy to mitigate it; the dull and vapid piping sound of someone who bullied the weak but feared the strong, and worsened by an underlying sound of something like a guqin string breaking off while playing. The latter wasn’t a personality defect, but an external cause – but what could cause something like that?

The individual in question, it turned out, was Jin Zixun, he noted, his frown deepening. Jin Guangshan’s nephew, yet not one who had been sent to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren to smarten up, whether due to bad timing or his own disinterest. He hadn’t much liked the boy during the few times he had encountered him at discussion conferences, and seeing him for the first time in a while, he didn’t think much of the man he’d become, either.

Jin Zixun was accompanied by a moderately large retinue of Jin retainers, as well as representatives from some other sects, although no major ones. Mostly ones affiliated with the Jin, from what he recalled.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jin Zixun shouted again, and Wei Wuxian was about to speak, an impertinent smirk curling onto his lips. He stopped when Lan Qiren waved him silent. “Lift the curse you’ve placed on me right now and maybe I’ll let you off!”

A curse? That would explain the sound of the breaking guqin string, the external music that did not fit, but of course Wei Wuxian was a flutist, not a guqin player; it wouldn’t have been his work.

(Truly, even though there was no rule that said ‘let stupid men speak freely and you will learn everything you wish to know’, there probably ought to be.)

“What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian asked, looking bored. “What curse?”

“You’re still pretending you don’t know? Look at this! Look what you’ve done to me!”

Jin Zixun pulled open his shirt, revealing his chest, and Lan Qiren’s lip curled in disgusted.

The Hundred Holes curse – that was an interesting choice. That required a particular type of bitterness to cast, being both nasty, brutal and slow in a way suggestive of a personal grudge and yet, to not inform the victim of who was the caster? That was distant, anonymous, faceless. Impersonal.

Wei Wuxian denied casting the curse, naturally, and Jin Zixun began threatening to kill him, telling him he wasn’t welcome at Jin Ling’s first month celebration, and now Wei Wuixan looked enraged, was reaching for his flute –

“Enough!” Lan Qiren thundered, and everyone turned to look at him. Jin Zixun mouthed his name in shock, clearly not having noticed him before in his singular focus on Wei Wuxian. “You have presented no proof of Wei Wuxian’s ill intent towards you, nor are you in charge of the invitations to the event in question. You will either produce your proof at once, or else retreat.”

Jin Zixun did neither, unsurprisingly. “What proof do I need?! No one else has such as vicious character as he, and everyone knows that we confronted each other! He hates me! Who else would it be but him?”

“If he wished to kill you, why would he use an anonymous curse rather than simply tear you to pieces with a fierce corpse or summon ghosts to harass you, the way he killed throughout the Sunshot Campaign?” Lan Qiren demanded, irritated as much by the stupidity on display as by the delay. “You cannot kill a man simply based on an assumption of which you are unsure.”

“I am sure! And the proof will be in the act. Once he dies, the curse will lift!” Jin Zixun suddenly grinned, teeth glinting. “And if we’re asking questions, I have one myself: why are you here, honored teacher? Here in the middle of nowhere, without anyone else from the Lan sect beside you – one might almost think that you were conspiring…”

Lan Qiren scoffed.

“For someone as upright and righteous as the honored Teacher Lan to speak in the Yiling Patriarch’s defense is impossible,” one of the retainers shouted. “He’s been bewitched! Wei Wuxian lured him here to kill him!”

“Ridiculous!” Lan Qiren spat.

“Give us one good reason why you’re here, then!” Jin Zixun demanded. “If you’re not here to meet Wei Wuxian!”

“Of course I’m here to meet Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren said impatiently, flicking his sleeve and thinking that he would need to have a talk with Jin Guangshan regarding his nephew’s insolence. He would not tolerate such blatant disrespect. “I wrote him a letter inviting him to the Cloud Recesses so that I could discuss some matters with him, and he responded by setting this as the meeting place instead. I agreed, and so came here.”

“What matters would you need to discuss with him?” one of the other cultivators demanded – one of the Ouyang collateral branch that had split from the main family in the previous generation, it looked like, probably out to try to steal some glory. “Honored Teacher Lan, you must explain yourself!”

Oh, Lan Qiren would be having a talk with several people over this.

Still, as much as he would like to stand on his dignity and refuse to answer, that would only lead to more questions. It would inflame tempers and exacerbate the situation, turning this stupid little dispute into the horrible dissonant cacophony of battle.

“Among other matters, I intended to dissuade him from pursuing a marriage with one of my sect,” he said, raising his chin. The Wall of Discipline said Do not tell lies, but a lifetime of practicing the sort of diplomacy necessary to run a sect had taught him that Do not use frivolous words was an adequate counter: sometimes, the best way to avoid an uncomfortable situation was to tell only the relevant part of the truth.

Or, as the rules put it: Speak meagerly, for excess words will only bring harm.

These wastrels did not need to know about the investigation, confidential as it was, and so he could share the portion of his intended discussion which was not.

Several of the crowd were gaping at him, Jin Zixun included, and Wei Wuxian beside him said in a strangled voice, “Marriage?”

“I was going to raise it with you before we were interrupted,” Lan Qiren told him. “I mean no insult by it, but I truly do not believe you to be an appropriate match.”

Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly.

“This is ridiculous,” Jin Zixun suddenly snapped, interjecting himself into the conversation, such as it was. “Lies, all of it, and you think we’d believe – mm!”

He clutched at his face, presumably appalled at being silenced as if it wasn’t exactly what he deserved for such an affront. Except of course he couldn’t leave it at that, gesturing wildly, and all the Jin retainers began to move, pulling out their swords and lifting their bows in readiness.

Wei Wuxian put Chenqing to his lips and issued a single drawn-out note.

Nothing happened.

“They cleared the path of any corpses,” Wei Wuxian hissed, his eyes suddenly reddening with rage. “This was prepared in advance. An ambush! They were never going to let me go to Jin Ling’s first month ceremony…Wen Ning, I’m going to need to use you. Ready, on my count, and – mm!”

Lan Qiren had silenced him as well.

“You will do no such thing,” he said icily, thinking to himself that perhaps he really ought to have insisted on keeping Wei Wuxian at the Cloud Recesses for longer than he had, despite the boy’s disastrous brand of nonsense. It was as if he had never heard of consequences – if Wei Wuxian so much as raised a blade to a single one of these men, the Jin sect would be calling for his head. Forget setting the Ghost General on them! “I will handle this.”

“You?” the Ghost General blurted out. “But - honored teacher…”

Lan Qiren was not, had never been, much of a fighter. He had been confined to the Cloud Recesses in his youth due to being sickly, and in his adulthood due to his brother’s choices; his experience was limited and insufficient. He had lifted both blade and guqin against the Wen sect when they came to burn his home, doing what little he could, and they had beaten him so badly that his heart and lungs had been permanently injured - to this day, he coughed up blood if he became overly emotional, and over-straining himself could lead him to start bleeding from all the qiqiao.

The doctors had warned him that it was not a wound that would ever be likely to heal.

And yet – as the rules of his sect said – with a strong will, anything can be achieved.

Lan Qiren drew his guqin in a single practiced motion and put his hand on the strings.

“Do you intend to fight me?” he asked, listening to the clamor of music from the hearts of the men in front of him. The ones with truly martial or aggressive beats were few and far between: if he needed to, he would target them first, and without their informal leaders, the resolve of the remainder would crumble, and they would flee.

But – he did not think he would need to.

“You can’t attack the honored Teacher Lan!” the Ghost General cried out, clearly appalled by the very thought of it. “You can’t – you just can’t!”

Lan Qiren looked at the young men in front of him, many of whom were frozen in indecision.

“Wei Wuxian may be a rogue cultivator, without even his corpses to aid him,” he reminded them. “But I represent the Lan sect, and it stands behind me. If you attack me now, even if you were to succeed and kill me, there would be an investigation; if there is an investigation, your actions will be discovered; if your actions are discovered, my Lan sect will demand vengeance from which not one of you will escape. You, and your families as well. Or do you believe that my Lan sect will not go to war for me?”

And not only the Lan sect. Lan Qiren might not be much of a fighter, he might never had become the traveling musician he had once dreamed of being, but he was a teacher – a teacher for a day, a father for a lifetime, and his students were scattered throughout the sects, throughout the cultivation world.

Perhaps some of them would stand by in silence, disregarding their filial duty to laugh at his demise.

More, he thought, would raise up their swords for him.

It seemed the Jin retainers thought the same, because no matter how violently Jin Zixun gestured, they did not make any move to attack.

“What’s going on here?!” another voice came at that moment, the low qiao of the steadfast lover – Jin Zixuan, settled at last, grown up and happy. Well, usually happy; at the moment he was clearly horrified. “Are you – are you attacking honored Teacher Lan?! What is wrong with you all? Are you trying to start another war?!”

“They came to ambush Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren said, not putting away his guqin just yet. “I was under the impression he was your invited guest, Jin-gongzi. Was that incorrect?”

“It is not,” Jin Zixuan said, and he knocked aside the flailing Jin Zixun’s hand, the one with the sword. “He is invited, and A-Li is waiting for him at Jinlin Tower right now. I knew nothing about any of this – Wei Wuxian, forgive my cousin, and forgive me for not having realized that he’d do something like this. I will make it up to you when we get back home, I promise.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth worked briefly, and Lan Qiren snapped the silencing spell he’d put on him with a thought.

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said, shooting him a look that seemed to contain questions. Lan Qiren assumed the questions related to his judgment of Jin Zixuan’s sincerity, and so he nodded his approval. “It’s – uh – fine, I suppose? It’s not like he succeeded even he did plan this out in advance, even going so far as to get rid of all the corpses to try to trap me…but know this! If honored Teacher Lan wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be nearly so forgiving!”

Or mute. Wei Wuxian had a mouth made for provoking people, just like his mother…why in the world did Lan Wangji have to like him so much?

“Of course,” Jin Zixuan said quickly. “Honored Teacher Lan, you will also come with us, won’t you? You can complete your conversation with Wei Wuxian at Jinlin Tower, and I’m certain your nephews will be pleased to see you…”

Lan Qiren huffed. “I am not so old and doddering as to need to be watched at every moment,” he said, knowing his tone betrayed his tetchiness – all entirely unfeigned, but it would still be helpful if everyone thought that his solo excursion had been merely a symptom of irritation at how he’d been incessantly pestered in his slow recovery. “Very well, we will return with you. Someone will need to carry Wei Wuxian and his ghost general, however, as I note that he has once again failed to bring his sword.”

“I didn’t think I’d need it,” Wei Wuxian drawled. “It seemed an odd accoutrement for a first moon party, but then again perhaps I should have anticipated the ambush?”

Jin Zixuan looked around, realizing that the only people here that could perform the escort were either himself and Lan Qiren or else participants in the ambush. “Honored Teacher Lan,” he said, looking a little panicked. “Forgive my impertinence, but could I ask you…?”

“I’ll ride with honored Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian announced, his tone grandiose and extremely irritating. Arrogant little brat. “Provided that you take Wen Ning, Jin-gongzi. After all, honored Teacher Lan still needs to talk to me about how he doesn’t want me to marry someone from his sect.”

Lan Qiren sighed. “It’s for your own good as well, you know,” he told Wei Wuxian even as Jin Zixuan attempted to swallow his own tongue in shock. “Our sect follows our sect rules no matter where we are, marrying in or out, and do so for our whole lives. Is that something you would be willing to tolerate?”

Wei Wuxian grinned at him, his expression – and the cheerful crescendos and upbeat lilt of his song, very nearly back to being as lively as they had been in his youth – suggesting that he was not as dissuaded as might have been hoped.

A few more moments and they all rearranged themselves, taking to the air. It was a little strange: the Ghost General, Wen Ning, rode in front of Jin Zixuan in the more vulnerable position, and because he was nearly the same height as Jin Zixuan their heads kept knocking together by accident, while Lan Qiren pointedly took the lead position as well. A sign of trust, and also recognition that he was a half-head shorter than his erstwhile student.

As they flew through the air, Wei Wuxian put his chin on Lan Qiren’s shoulder. “And there’s also that attempted murder you want me to help you with,” he murmured, voice low. “Reputation or not, ability or not, I will help you as much as I can, honored Teacher Lan, however I can…anything I can do, I will do. Thank you for trusting in me.”

Lan Qiren snorted. “What are you talking about?”

“The curse on Jin Zixun. You didn’t believe him when he said I did it.”

“That’s not trust, but logic,” Lan Qiren said scornfully. “The person who sent that curse plays the guqin, not the flute. How could it have been you?”

It was strange, though. A curse, spiritual poison, and both by guqin players – it was not an uncommon instrument to use, but to wield it with such skill that the instrument became an innate part of the player’s residual spiritual qi, the way the Lan sect taught its disciples to do…?

Lan Xichen didn’t like Lan Wangji’s crush on Wei Wuxian any more than Lan Qiren did, he thought to himself, even if he had encouraged it in their youth – but that had been before Wei Wuxian had turned to his dark and crooked path, and before Lan Wangji had demonstrated signs that he was unwilling to turn away from him despite it. Even more than Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen feared his brother following in their father’s footsteps, in damning himself for a lover who didn’t deserve him, feared that Wei Wuxian would shatter his beloved Lan Wangji’s fragile heart into a million pieces and more…

Still, a curse? The Hundred Holes, no less? His nephew?

A few days earlier, Lan Qiren would have said it was impossible. But then, a few days earlier, he would have said that it would be impossible for Lan Xichen’s lover to be poisoned through a spiritual song that, as far as Lan Qiren knew, only Lan Xichen and those he had personally trained had ever used on him.

Lan Qiren did not understand, and what little he did, he didn’t like.

Still, he had the marginal satisfaction that his initial mission had been accomplished, however uncomfortable the journey might have been – Wei Wuxian had agreed to assist him in his investigation. If he could only get the man alone long enough to explain the issue, they could even start looking into it at once, at the first month party in Jinlin Tower, which everyone in the cultivation world would attend.

They would discover the truth.

And when they did…

Let it not be Xichen, Lan Qiren thought. Let it be anyone else, no matter what – just not him.

I don’t know what I’d do if it were him.

[longbottomlad]

alessandraesmee​:

Alice shook her head, dismissing Frank’s concerns about the dress code. “I think you can get away with it without resorting to petty theft.” Even if he was underdressed compared to some, he didn’t seem out of place. He had the sort of easy confidence and self-assurance that made him look at home anywhere. Not for the first time, Alice wondered how she’d missed it when they were at school. She saw it now, and she saw all the other guests who were seeing it, too. It made a juvenile, possessive part of her want to slide her arm around his waist, maybe hook a finger through one of his belt loops, do something to stake her claim, even though she knew she didn’t really have one. It wasn’t a totally uncommon instinct, but usually it was one Alice could push away. 

Tonight, she found herself smiling up at Frank with hooded eyes full of unspoken promises. “Besides, there are much more fun things to do in cloakrooms.” It was the sort of thing Alice might have said to another person at another time. She’d never been shy about flirting and her style was hardly subtle, but she didn’t flirt with Frank. It was dangerous, and not in a fun, adrenaline rush kind of way either. Things between them were starting to get back to normal now that she’d gone back to the aurors and they were working together again and she didn’t want to fuck that up. The memory of how much she’d missed him while she hadn’t been working at the Ministry still lingered like a bruise and she didn’t want to go back to that, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Alice chewed her lip as Frank stumbled over his words. She couldn’t really blame him; it was not the sort of thing they usually talked about. There was a tremendous amount of trust between them and friendship too. Alice knew that she could trust Frank with her life because they’d been in life and death situations, but they could also unwind together at a pub after a long day of work. Frank had become a cornerstone of her life, and that was exactly why Alice kept to pretty firm boundaries with him. She didn’t flirt, she didn’t bring up her underwear, she didn’t talk about her feelings for him. She was all set to make a joke out of it, which was her usual trick. She was going to say something about being the one who brought it up, maybe giving him a one time only pass because she was in a good mood. But when she opened her mouth something entirely different popped out. “I like the sound of it coming from you.”

Frank was making good sense; this wasn’t something they should be talking about. Alice knew she was treading on dangerous ground, and she really wasn’t sure why she kept putting her foot in it. Granted, she was doing it in a very classically Alice way, but it was almost like something else was speaking for her. It wasn’t imperio, Alice knew what that felt like and it wasn’t this, but this wasn’t normal, either. She might have done something about it if there weren’t a part of her that liked it, or at least liked what was coming from it. She liked hearing Frank call her beautiful, even if she generally didn’t give her beauty a second thought. She liked watching him blush and cough like her presence had some of the same affect on him that his had on her. And yes, there was a part of her that liked the feeling of teetering on the edge of a cliff, like she might fall but maybe she would fly. “We could always just share.” She found herself holding out the cup with a smile like she was offering much more than just punch.

“Somehow, I don’t think I’m the type of guy to get away with an act of petty theft.” In an attempt to get away with a crime, Frank was well aware that it may not always go in his favour. Even at Hogwarts when Frank attempted to charm his way out of a detention. With a bat of an eyelid and a cheeky smile, he always managed to weasel his way out of trouble but there was always a nagging sense of guilt within Frank. More often than not, Frank would wind up adding on an additional tutoring slot. To simply make up for lost time. An action he would never admit to Alice. Well aware that the woman would tease him for it. It was bad enough that Frank had been selected for head boy, he had to maintain a bit of a bad boy image. “I’d wind up knocking over the coat rack or something. Can you picture the news on the prophet?”

There was something in the air tonight. Was the air thicker? Or was Frank just struggling to breath from Alice’s comments. Thankful the the pink hue of the room, hoping it masked the tint of his cheeks. More than likely, Alice was well aware of Frank’s previous affection for her. It had been a high school crush, nothing more than a feeble attempt at asking Alice to accompany him to Hogsmeade. But ever since then, Frank had tried to be careful. In all honesty, as their relationship progressed from coworkers into friends and now, friends into whatever their current predicament was. Frank could find himself falling easily back into his feelings. With the amused glances, inside jokes and nights spent getting drunk at the Leaky. There was feelings, one that Frank chose to push back. They would only cause a predicament that could complicate their friendship greatly. “Surprisingly, a cloakroom is one of the places I haven’t tried. Too cramped, a gangly thing like me? It would be all limbs and coats.” Frank tried to play it off as nothing more than a joke between friends.

Frank laughed at the woman’s next admission. Knowing full well, he would now be unable to hide the colour of his face. “Merlin, Al. Are you feeling alright? It’s me you are talking to, you know? Not Gilderoy.” He tried to pass it off as a joke, placing a hand on Alice’s forehead. Jokingly acting like he was checking her temperature. If Alice were to do the same, Frank would be positively burning up. He had been expecting a punch in the arm, or a slap or the wrist for his comment. It was the truth but it was a step too far. Alice and Frank were never going to have that sort of relationship, he had come to terms with that a while back. However, disappointed Frank may have been at the time. He valued their current relationship far too much, in fact he was sort of pleased it hadn’t worked out back then. If things had of went according to that plan, things probably wouldn’t have been more than an awkward interaction in the lift in the mornings. Frank wouldn’t have his best friend. But as Alice continued to speak, his brow furrowed. Was there something deeper there? Or was it the punch talking? It wouldn’t have been the first time they leaned a little too close after a few drinks.

His eyes faltering to the glass in her hand as Alice offered him it. The stuff seemed strong and Alice was bound to wake up with a sore head in the morning, it seemed to have her saying some crazy stuff. Stuff that Frank was definitely going to tell her in the morning. Taking the glass out of her hand and placing it to his lips, he was about to take a slight sip. “However, tempting.” Frank hummed, pulling the glass from his mouth at the last second. Taking her hand carefully and placing the cup back in it. “It seems very strong. And I think one of us should avoid that. Goodness knows what we would get up to if we were both drinking that.”

[sylvies-chen]

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

[apollostears]

TEENAGE LOVE AFFAIR [ BTS ]

group: BTS

pairing: BTS x daughter!reader

warning(s): swearing

request: can you do BTS reacting to their 15 year old daughter having a boyfriend/girlfriend?

requested by: @mela3340

oomfggg this was so fun to make!! thanks for requesting the first request of 2021 :) hope you enjoy love <3

➝︎ jin

he’s literally dramatic af.

#dramaking

but no really, he’ll be shook to the gods.

like huh??? his child got a partner?!!!

my kid?!!! IN THESE STREETS?!

he would faint, then wake back up and shake her til she’s dizzy.

ok but on a more serious note, i think if he saw his daughter have genuine feelings for this person they’re with, he would support a 100%

definitely wants to meet them asap

would chaperone their dates but in a way that’s soooo cliché. i mean ugly ass disguises cliché.

will definitely have a heart attack if his daughters partner used the fake ‘yawn-over-the-shoulder’ move while at the movies.

all his daughter would hear is someone choking horrendously a few rooms behind them and instantly know it’s her dad.

will call the boys up every time she asks him to go on a date with their partner or if they can come over to hang and study.

“i’m at a lost here! it’s like i’m in the war!” jin exaggerates on the group call with his friends.

“hyung, i think you’re over exaggerating.” jungkook would say sheepishly.

with the straightest face, jin would hang up and contemplate his choice in friends.

after about the sixth month mark, i do think he’d let up a tremendous amount.

like he’s no longer breathing down her neck about them and allows them to go on dates without him, so long as she tells him where they’re going.

10/10 is the dramatic dad that goes through a midlife crisis when their daughter starts dating.

➝︎ yoongi

mans does not care.

ok lemme clarify, he doesn’t care to the extent that jin does. he trusts his daughter and her decisions and understands that this is an important part of her life. he’s gonna try his hardest to not overstep.

but deep down, he definitely is having a hard time coming to grasps that his daughter is in love and starting to enter the dating world.

he understands the pressures surrounding dating too, especially at fifteen. so he’s definitely giving a nice lil lecture about sex, safe sex, consensual sex, and commitment.

and yes, yoongi knows that most of these young love relationships don’t last long, but he wants his daughter to know that her relationship is legit to him. no matter how old she is.

will look intimidating af to their daughters bf or gf. he definitely overhears them discussing if yoongi likes them or not 💀

looks like he could kill you and will but is also such a sweetheart once you actually know him.

doesn’t do no undercover brother shit but will follow his daughter on their first few dates just because he’s worried. isn’t overbearing and keeps a good distance.

honestly, if anything it brings his daughter a lot of comfort to know her dad is there to back her up 🙂

100%!is the father that seems like they’re chill on the surface but on the inside is working overtime to not be overreactive when their child starts dating.

➝︎ namjoon

is literally the 😯 emoji

when his daughter tells him that she’s got a lover, he literally looks exactly like that emoji.

he’s like “love? what you know about that?”

is extremely confused the entire time. yes, he knows that at her age, children start experimenting with dating but he never actually thought he’d have to deal with it.

was definitely worried that he’d lose out on daddy-daughter time once she started dating.

that was his biggest fear. that his daughter wouldn’t need him anymore. she would no worries.

is deathly afraid of his daughter experiencing heartbreak. their s/o could be the perfect match for his kid, he still wouldn’t care. namjoon is going to be worried regardless.

constantly asks for updates on their relationship to see if he needs to give any advice on how to keep the relationship going.

he doesn’t see their love as something immature. namjoon values it the same way he would value an adult relationship.

which meansss giving them the birds n the bees. same as yoongi, a thorough talk on sexually transmitted diseases, birth control, safe sex, you name it.

was incredibly nervous to meet the person their daughter was dating 💀 like how you supposed to be the daddy but more scared than the actual date.

chaperones his daughter’s first couple of dates. doesn’t get in their way but definitely makes his presence known when does attend.

has a strict “have her home by 9 or else” policy.

won’t ground their child if they give them a heads up on why they would be late.

is 100% the type to be the “work in progress” dad that wishes there was a book on what to do when your teenage daughter starts dating.

➝︎ hobi

mans was like “awww my wittle baby likes somebody!”

was wayyy more excited about meeting their child’s s/o then what is deemed normal.

don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely protective of his kid but hobi understands that these things happen.

it was bound to happen that one day his daughter would start dating.

doesn’t hound his child with questions but is very curious to learn more about this bf/gf that their daughter has.

when he meets them, he’s very scary looking at first. switching into serious hobi, he intimidates the kid just a bit before breaking into a grin and letting them know he was kidding.

is the type of dad that would make their daughters’ s/o fall in love with him 💀

hobi gets along with virtually anyone so it wasn’t hard for him to bond with the s/o.

however, he does make it known that he is a father and while the kid seems to be an alright choice for his daughter, he still lets them know that he will go liam neeson on a motherfucker if necessary.

doesn’t follow his daughter on dates but somehow ends up attending some of them because they both want him around.

on the times he doesn’t go, there is a curfew in place and it’s 8 o’clock 😔

hobi is 100% the dad to become friends with their daughters’ bf/gf but still be a force to be reckon with when needed.

➝︎ jimin

probably the one who meddles in their daughters love life.

sees their daughter walkout of school with a guy and is asking fifty million questions on who he is and if she likes him.

all for her to turn around and be like “dad, i’m gay.”

and he’s like 🥺🥰 “good, boys are disgusting anyways.”

so now he’s scoping out girls that could be a potential match for his kid 💀

“what about her?”

“nah, she’s a little rude to me.”

“you know what they say! she likes you!”

“no dad. just...no.”

was not expecting the girl his daughter chooses but can totally see it once he actually gets to know her.

is constantly giving his daughter cute date ideas for her to do w her gf. definitely has a pintrest board of places for them.

will happily be a chauffeur for his daughter if necessary. this can be good and bad. good bc yayay free rides. bad because she has to deal with a jimin that wants to be on time or a jimin that makes them ten minutes late to a movie showing. there is no in between.

he doesn’t follow his daughter around. mainly because he’s always driving them but if he doesn’t, she still gives him a heads up on where they’re going.

doesn’t mind them hanging sleepovers or leaving the door closed but will totally pop up at random times to be nosey.

is definitely in his daughters corner anytime someone tries to give her and her gf a hard time for being together.

a 100% the dad that’s constantly involved in his child’s love life but not to an extreme point. is totally just excited to be there and apart of her world.

➝︎ taehyung

the motherfucker is all smug and shit talking about some “ i know ” 😏 when his daughter approaches him about her new partner.

lets be real; taehyung would know his daughter like the back of his hands. he would have suspicions that she’s seeing somebody but won’t pressure her to speak until she’s ready.

acts like the fbi when he finally meets their daughter’s partner.

is stalking all social media, finding where they work, who they guardians are, and where they grandma stay 💀🤣

but it’s really because he knows how dangerous people are and the last thing he wants is for his kids’ life to be in danger.

is definitely a hard ass to whoever his daughter ends up dating regardless of gender. will go major payne on a motherfucker real quick.

does not care if he gets caught watching out for his daughter while she’s on a date. will deadass sit there and stare them down as they look at him, completely unbothered.

after meeting their partner a few times, he’ll become a bit more loose in regards to their relationship but will still eye them wearily.

his daughter is very important to him and he’s just worried about any potential heartbreak she may experience.

“have you ever killed?”

“uh, no sir. i-i’m only fifteen...sir.”

kisses teeth, “would you kill for my daughter?”

*beat of silence, two horrified teenagers*

scoffs, “pathetic. d/n choose a new partner.”

“dad!”

seems like a hard ass and is a hard ass but it’s completely out of love.

is 100% the dad that gives their daughter’s partner a hard time and will hold such a passive face that they’ll never know if he likes them or not, but overtime will start loosening up and accept them for who they are.

➝︎ jungkook

he was thoroughly surprised.

like...she might as well had told him she was pregnant.

jk needed a moment to comprehend that his daughter...his precious jewel was dating.

just the thought sent chills down his spine with his dramatic ass.

immediately demanded to meet the person who stole his daughter from him. and when he found out it was the bad kid from school??!!! mans was heated.

i mean really? the juvenile delinquent of ALL people?

he feels this way mainly because he remembers how he was as a kid and he knows how anal teenagers can be. really just wants the best for his kid.

is present for their first date. why is that? because it was at their house with him sitting on the opposite couch, watching them like a hawk as they attempted to watch a movie.

after that, his daughter had a serious talk with him about personal space and independence.

jungkook didn’t like the fact that he had to have this talk, but he understands it’s importance. him and his daughter have a sacred bond with one another that he doesn’t wanna risk breaking all because of his overprotectiveness.

that overprotectiveness does come in handy though because their daughters’ partner is always on time when it comes to getting her and dropping her off. honestly, if his daughter ever tried to convince their partner to skip curfew, their partner would text jungkook to snitch 💀

“so...you tried to skip curfew, eh?”

“wha-? how do you know this?!”

smirks, “i see all d/n. besides, your partner knows not to cross that line with me.”

“i literally cannot stand either of you.”

this has definitely led the daughter to question if she has a relationship or if her dad has a relationship with her s/o.

after about three months of them dating, jungkook turns into a pretty chill dad to be real. at that point, he understands that he can’t protect her from pain. so, he might as well just try his best to support his daughter through everything she does.

is 100% that is overly dramatic at first and comes off as incredibly scary but eventually comes down to earth and becomes a big teddy bear 🥰

❧ join my taglist: @olamidey @knjkitten @pimpnameyannie @sweeneyblue1 @sunrayyellowhalo @exomama-random @simplyskz-maya @valkryienymph @supop @namjoonswifeyy @asparagusclifford

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑆/𝑂 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝐴 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐴 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warning: Certain NSFW scenarios are contained within this reaction. Read at your own discretion.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

During a little chat with Hongjoong about your deepest secret fantasies, you were hesitant to tell him that you wanted a girl to join you two. You thought he'd look at you weird or immediately say no. He pried it out of you though, and his silence made you think you were right. But then he got a little smirk on his face.

"My oh my, you really are a dirty little slut." He teased you.

You huffed and crossed your arms. Hongjoong only chuckled and grabbed your hand.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked as he pulled you up.

"You'll see." He answered with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

The last place you expected him to take you was a bar. You were confused as to why he'd take you here.

"You wanted someone to join us right? Well.... look around baby and take your pick."

You flushed at his words, not expecting him to take this seriously. Still he encouraged you to at least look around. At first, you pretended to scan the very attractive women in the place, wanting to just say no one caught your attention and leave it at that. But when your eyes landed on a particular girl, you couldn't look away. She was just so mesmerizing and stunning and you found yourself imagining her pinning you down and just ruining you. Hongjoong noticed how your thighs started clenching against each other and he knew you had made your choice.

"Come on baby. We got work to do."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Seonghwa never hid the fact that he was possessive of you, he made it very obvious. And so it came to no surprise to you when he said he wouldn't allow anyone else to join you two.

"Why would you even want that? Am I not enough for you? Do I not satisfy your needs?"

Seonghwa boiled with jealousy and anger at the thought of anyone touching you in a way only he could. So of course he was fuming when a certain girl came up to you while you two were out on a date.

"Are you here by yourself cutie?" The girl asked you, gently touching the top of your hand.

Seonghwa could tell the girl was affecting you too much for his liking.

Setting his drink down in front of her, he responded.

"No. They're with me actually."

One look at him and the girl could tell he was a hardcore Dom. But that was ok because she was one too and she certainly loved a challenge. The girl looked back at you and fake sighed.

"Such a pity. I bet I could make you feel better than what he can beautiful."

You looked over to Seonghwa, expecting him to be angry. But instead, he got an amused smile plastered on his face.

"You really think so? Why don't you try and prove it?"

You widened your eyes at his words. Was he being serious? Seonghwa looked over at you and smiled.

"What do you say baby?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You didn't actually tell Yunho himself about the fantasy you often had. He accidentally overheard you while you were on a phone call with your friend. He was surprised to find out this information, but he wasn't angry.

"So that's what my baby is into."

It actually turned Yunho a little on to think about watching someone else completely wreck you. So he decided to make a little surprise for you. He usually always prepared something special for your anniversary, and this year was no different.

Yunho gently sucked on your neck, his large hands grasping your ass cheeks as he grinded his clothed bulge against your core. You let out a whimper when he pulled you off him and set you down on the bed.

"Yunho..." You whined at him, pouting that he left you hot and bothered.

Yunho smiled and gently caressed your cheek.

"Don't worry baby. I'll make sure you're taken care of. Trust me."

He tenderly kissed your lips before getting up and going over to the door. He opened it and gestured for someone to come in. Your eyes went wide when in walked in a very gorgeous looking girl, dressed in black lace lingerie with thigh high stockings and garter belt. She smirked and walked over to you. You looked over at Yunho, silently asking if this was ok.

"It's ok baby. Don't worry about me, I'm going to enjoy this just as much as you are."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

When you brought up the idea to Yeosang, he wasn't really sure. He actually felt a little insecure at your suggestion.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Yeosang asked, genuinely concerned that he wasn't satisfying your needs.

"No Yeosang, you're not doing anything wrong." You assured him.

"Then why are you suggesting this?"

"It's just you know.... to try something new." You tried explaining.

Yeosang sat there quietly, pondering over your words. He was too shy to try something like this. He wants to make you happy, but he sees physical intimacy as something being just the two of you. He'd get too awkward and flustered if someone else joined you, no matter who it was.

"Can't you choose something else besides that?" Yeosang asked quietly.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know! Let's make a deal! I'll let you tie me up." Yeosang offered.

"Where's the fun in that?" You shook your head.

Yeosang thought for a moment, before an idea finally popped in his head. He'd probably regret it, but he'd rather agree to this than the other option.

".......I'll let you peg me." He blurted out.

You almost choked on your water when he said that.

"Yeosang......are you into that?"

You questioned him, making him get a red shade around his cheeks which answered your question, making you smirk at him.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

Honestly, San had probably thought about it long before you even did. So when you brought it up, he was more than happy to oblige you with your desires.

That's how you ended up tangled up between two bodies: one belonging to your adoring boyfriend and the other to one of your neighbors, a cute girl that you often said was attractive, whom you soon found out had a very kinky and naughty side to her, exactly what you two needed for this moment to happen.

You moaned into the girl's mouth as she kissed you hungrily while San's hands were busy caressing your body, groping you in your sensitive places. His fingers skillfully rid you of your clothes and tossed them somewhere in the room.

"Darling, let's not be selfish. After all, she's doing us a favor by joining us."

San then leaned down, pulling you away from the girl and looking you straight in the eye.

"So why don't you be a good girl/boy and eat her out like the good slut you are?"

You knew that wasn't a request, it was a command, that you were not complaining about. Your face was buried in between the girl's legs, so engrossed in your task of pleasuring her that you didn't notice San had taken his clothes off. You only felt him push himself into you from behind, making you moan against the girl's clit.

"Fuck, you look so hot baby."

He might just make this a regular occurrence.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

When you told Mingi you planned something special for tonight, he most definitely didn't think it'd be this. Never in his wildest dreams did he think this would happen, but it did and he was seriously turned on by it.

He groaned as he watched you make out with the girl in front of you, his hand stroking his cock gently. The image of you dominating this girl would forever be engraved on his mind. You stared at him and smiled.

"Don't worry baby boy. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

Turning your attention to the girl, you cupped her cheeks and guided you to your boyfriend, who was patiently waiting for your orders.

"He's been such a good boy for us, don't you think? He deserves a reward."

Getting your hint, the girl licked her lips before taking Mingi's length in her hands, replacing his. Mingi stiffened considerably when her mouth began sucking him, trying hard not to make any sound. Noticing this, you made him look at you.

"Baby boy, it's ok. Let us take care of you. Just relax and enjoy."

Mingi finally let out a groan, loving the way this girl was sucking him off. As if this couldn't get any better, he was astonished when he saw you come up behind the girl, a vibrator on in your hand.

"The fun is only getting started."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Things definitely got way too wild at the party. Wooyoung and you weren't completely wasted, but you were definitely a little bit more than tipsy. That didn't matter though. You both ended up scurrying off to one of the many rooms in the house, looking for an empty one.

Upon finding one, your bodies instantly connected. His lips were kissing you hungrily, his hands were desperate to rid you both of your clothes which were bothersome by now. He just wanted to be inside you at this point. He managed to get your shirt off and you were in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it halfway down, when you were both startled by the sound of the door opening.

"Wooyoung! Y/N! I'm so sorry!" It was one of your closest female friends, who was searching for a bathroom and accidentally stumbled upon you two.

It might have been the alcohol making you both bold, but you and Wooyoung looked at each other and as if reading each other's minds, you both turned to your friend and smirked. Wooyoung got up and walked towards your friend, closing the door behind her and locking it. She looked at you both in astonishment.

"What-what are you two up to?" She asked, but deep down she knew what you two were planning and she wasn't exactly about to refuse.

"Don't go yet. Why don't you join us?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"All right Y/N. Your turn! Truth or dare!" Wooyoung asked.

It had become almost tradition by now: every time you hung out with your boyfriend and his friends and there was alcohol involved, it always ended in the juvenile game of truth or dare.

"I pick truth." You answered, not wanting to fall victim to one of Wooyoung's embarrassing dares like Mingi or Yeosang usually fell into.

"Wow....you're no fun." Wooyoung huffed.

"I got a good question! What's the darkest, dirtiest sexual fantasy you've had that you've never even told Jongho?" San actually looked a little too enthusiastic about your answer.

You looked at your boyfriend and blushed severely. He gently took your hand and smiled, whispering to you that it was ok whether you said it or not. Taking a deep breath, you confessed:

"I've.....always, maybe, sort of wanted a threesome...." You started.

"I volunteer as a tribute!" San raised his hand, earning a glare from the maknae and a smack to the head by Hongjoong.

"....with a girl..." You finished.

Everyone stared at you with wide eyes, the 99 liners screaming out of shock, Seonghwa and Hongjoong just chuckling amongst themselves. Your boyfriend, however, just looked at you with curiosity. This was definitely news to him. You two weren't that experienced in the sex field, you were still figuring out what you two liked and didn't like. So while this made him a little self conscious.....

It wasn't a definite no.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Idea, a group of young human liaisons (late teen/young adult) join the lost light crew and the different crew members essentially adopts them (any bots of your choice)

That's adorable so absolutely yes! I chose the bots I thought most likely to adopt in any capacity.

Tailgate

·Being amongst the tiniest bots on the ship, and having loved human culture whilst never meeting a human, compounds his excitement at their arrival to nearly critical levels. They're so tiny! They can answer all his earth questions! They can go on missions together and he can show them around the galaxy! His first step is to learn how to tell humans apart and to memorize all their names, as well as anything they find important about themselves, so that way they'll feel welcome.

·During this introduction it's revealed these humans are on the younger side, and his reaction immediately becomes one of shock. You're all still little ones?! Not done growing even?! The explanations that human development is quite different fall on deaf audials; he knows what it's like to be small and new in the galaxy, and he won't let anything hurt these protoforms!

·The liaison team now has a permanent guardian, and they quickly learn that his size doesn't tell his full story. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's still twice the height of the average human, so calling him "tiny" doesn't make much sense to any of them. Being so much taller is something he absolutely adores experiencing for a change, and that combined with his super strength leads to a lot of piggy back rides for the whole crew.

·If anyone, bot or con or whatever, says a mean word to even one of them he's on the warpath. Think you're a big tough guy, huh?! Picking on his little buddies?! Well, he's not gonna give you a chance to pick on somebody your own size! Unless you offer a heartfelt apology, and if the human in question accepts that, then everything is just fine! But he will punch you if he hears this is recurring!

·The various liaisons start referring to him as their "big brother" and once the meaning of that is explained he's absolutely touched. Him? A part of their family? Movie nights henceforth involve him being surrounded by a group of young humans, just chilling around their adoptive older sibling who happens to be six million years old, and should anyone glance at his visor they'll find it absolutely shining in the dim light.

Ratchet

·Having worked with and studied humans of this age group in the past, he's far less upset and far more worried by their arrival, but he pretends he's merely the former. The truth is that he knows their species is especially vulnerable at this age, and getting the rest of the crew to understand that will be an impossible task, even if he asks them to imagine a delicate protoform taking nearly two decades to mature instead of a few hours and to try and comprehend how much trouble that would be.

·His first step is to establish that he's their doctor, one fully capable of handling human medicine, and he quickly catches the rest of his team up to speed. Every medic needs to be able to meet the needs of every crewmember, and these juvenile humans are part of the crew now, as well as their responsibility for the sake of diplomatic relations... Somehow that last part doesn't stress him out in the slightest.

·These humans will quickly find his gruff to be little more than a personality trait. When he's with a patient, specifically one who's a little frightened, his demeanor rapidly softens just as his touch becomes gentle even to a being quite soft and tiny by comparison. For a species not necessarily accustomed to medical care just... whenever they need it, the young liaisons can't help but like him. His reaction to the fact that most humans can't afford medical care is... a very long sigh.

·His attention to these new patients extends well beyond appointment hours, though he does try not to be overbearing. But he just needs to be certain; are they exercising enough? Does the atmosphere of the ship upset their respiratory systems in any way? Is there any chance the modification to the lighting system was ineffective and they're not getting enough vitamin D? Are they eating all their vegetables?!

·It's impossible for the group to ignore the gigantic alien robot very obviously fretting over them like a mother hen, and thus he often gets a "Yes, mom" in response to his queries from them, but in a good natured way. He huffs at first but their genuine appreciation for his efforts is... well, he'd be lying if he said his actions weren't driven by something more than medical duty. Maybe he's the first Cybertronian with a kind of maternal instinct, who knows? What matters is that his "children" are all safe and healthy, and he certainly doesn't start smiling when "Dr. Mom" becomes what he's listed as in their communication contact list.

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus

·Rodimus agreed to this diplomatic mission despite all his warnings (and pleadings) to say no and find some other way to encourage a good relationship between the species. He has experience with humans, specifically of this exact age range, and while that relationship is one he treasures he's not looking to put any humans in potential danger again. He is, of course, duly ignored and the group is brought on board.

·For the sake of fostering a welcoming and structured environment, he memorizes their names in advance and has them all come to his office for an abridged two hour orientation on the ship and its rules. Knowing they have to be on the move often for neurological development is the only reason he doesn't keep them for a proper five hour orientation. It goes relatively well, but he's less distressed by their lack of attention than he is by how intimidating they seem to find him.

·For some reason this bothers him, no matter how fine he is with bots finding him to be frightening, seeing humans flinch from his presence actually hurts him. So he endeavors to be... friendly! If he earned the nickname "Uncle Magnus" with one human, he can do it again! The best strategy he can think of isn't actually that off base; he'll try to mentor them in their individual pursuits. Dropping down in height whenever he can, typically by getting on a knee to ensure he doesn't tower over them, also proves to be a big help.

·Initially he's determined to keep his Minimus self hidden from them completely, down to the very existence of his split identity. It's less about size, as even his most base form still stands well above the tallest liason, than it is about respect. He wants to be an inspiration to these little ones, and Ultra Magnus is obviously the more impressive of the two. It's only once one particularly affectionate liaison gives him a hug, or more accurately an attempt at one around his offered hand, that he feels compelled to reconsider.

·It makes him nervous for weeks, contemplating the potential fallout of being honest with them, and how it could ruin everything... In the end he blames his own moral compass for forcing him to be honest. He gathers the liaisons together and explains the entirety of his identity in detail, taking all of their questions and praying he won't see any kind of disappointment, before finally removing his armor and "introducing" them to Minimus. The reaction is far from negative. There are exclamations of "botception" and "nesting dolls" in the wild surprise that follows, but nothing that could even be interpreted as dissapoint, and in fact the young humans are only that much more amazed by their "Uncle Minimags". It takes everything he is not to cry.

Swerve

·He knows enough about human culture to have seen that this particular age group tends to party, and is also way more likely to enjoy pop culture, so he's delighted when they join up. Of course he introduces himself, but he doesn't need to mention much more than his bar before he has their full attention and fascination. The Manhattan sized spaceship run by giant alien robots has a bar?! They're all begging to see it and he's so thrilled he forgets he can transform and runs there with them.

·Their amazement only doubles when night comes and they get to see the place in full swing, but he makes sure they're safely seated on the bar itself, to avoid squishing. As always he's able to chat endlessly to these new arrivals, and his knowledge of human culture quite surprises them. Even if there's a fair amount he doesn't know, the fact that he's aware of anything at all shocks them.

·The rush to get him caught up is a shared effort between the liaisons. Does he know what social media is? Would he like to have an account? For once he's the overwhelmed one and he has to work to keep up with everything they give him, but the attention and genuine interest these little humans have in his thoughts and experiences is... it's a good thing he's got some help around the bar to help him stay caught up. Because these little sort of protoforms have convinced him to get Twitter.

·Movie nights become so massive they actually have to consider expanding the bar. Not only are old movies watched, but all the latest releases as well, some as soon as they're in theaters because look they know it's not technically legal but it's promoting good diplomacy so... However, even when he starts serving and mixing human alcohol, he's quite firm on requiring the humans who drink it to be of age. There's still fun drinks for the younger ones though.

·The humans bond with other bots, but as their first contact on the ship and the most fun he's always got a few of them by his side. Maybe he's just better with other species? He doesn't really know or care, but somehow when there's a little moment and they all take a selfie together he just... he just feels not alone. It's something he keeps a little on the down low, but he's a bit too easy to read for the humans not to notice, and since they're good kids they pretend it's a secret that they mean the world to him. On especially rowdy nights they even help clean up, and each human develops their own little nickname for him, making it less like he adopts them and much more like they adopt him.

Whirl

·Humans come in fun size too? Neat! But he's admittedly a tad curious when their age is explained and he realizes that, in their own super weird alien way, these are still protoforms. Something almost akin to worry flashes in his spark for an instant. Still, he plays it cool when they're brought on board, pretending to be no more interested than any other bot they're introduced to.

·Before he meets them, he's told quite firmly that these humans are to be protected at all costs, and that any behavior seen as antagonizing in the slightest will be punished. He ensures the top bots he's no Decepticon and that squishies aren't on his radar. But he's admittedly a little concerned that they'll notice his... peculiarities. His own species recoils at his appearance, and while he can handle that, getting it from aliens would be unpleasant.

·But there's no such reaction. They ask him his name, share theirs, and react with the same enthusiasm they do to every bot and even ask the same questions. It's pleasantly surprising, until they all get excited upon his description of his alt mode, at which point it's freaking fantastic. It's with pride that he confirms he's the only flying bot on the crew, and when he's immediately corrected by a random passerby, he explains that he meant the only one who could fly worth a damn. He's greeted by a chorus of laughter for his amazing joke and he vows that he'd die for each and every one of these little squishies.

·All it takes is one hint of a request and he's offering to take them all for a lift through the hangar. This is just the beginning of an impossibly interesting friendship. Eventually he just carries them all around in his cockpit whenever they're walking anywhere, or on his shoulders if they won't all fit, and either way there's a row of humans sitting across him. This friendship is why he's so mortified when his identity of an Empurata is accidentally revealed and the questions begin.

·He reluctantly answers and braces for the impending disgust or revulsion to realize he's been mutilated. But it never comes. Instead, there's genuine sympathy and anger on his behalf, and their little hands reach out to comfort him. Initially he can only be awed. How are these little, fragile, and oh so very young protoforms better than so many members of his species?! Does it matter? They shall be called; "The Whirl Scouts", trademark pending. They'll all have to be trained in combat for their own safety, and he will be their mom now, because he won't just die for them he'll kill for them. They're his kids and his family.

[lustbile-archive]

[4:35PM]

smut

(this is a repost because it stopped showing up in the tags rip)

You reminded yourself of a clumsy puppy who was yet to grow into the size of its feet as you stumbled over yourself in your rush into the cluttered bedroom. In no attempt at giving any form of warning, you climbed ungracefully onto the occupied bed and placed yourself directly on the stomach of your boyfriend, your legs on each side of his body.

Haechan slowly lifts his eyes from where he stared at his phone, looking less than impressed with your entrance, but not seeming in any way inconvenienced by your weight pressing against him.

“Can I help you,” his voice drawn out and teasing knowing too well that you were going to ask him for something.

“Haechan,” you lean your body over his, bringing your face closer to his, a lazy grin pulling at your lips, “I need your face.”

His head jerks back in amused confusion as he drops his phone onto the mattress, “like, do you want me to take it off?”

You have no time to catch yourself before you were rolling your eyes, “no weirdo. I was just thinking about what you would look like wearing blush, and if I don’t make my vision a reality immediately I will never forgive myself,” your tone comes out dreamy and far off as you all but thrust the blush palette and makeup brush you were holding into his face.

The long whine he lets out, and the way he starts to squirm beneath you is the only indication you need to know that he was going to cave, all he needed was you to speak his language.

“Haechannie…” you pout down at your wiggling boyfriend, letting your eyelashes flutter in a way that he would never admit out loud to finding incredibly endearing, “pretty please? I’ll clean it off really well. I just want to see how it would look.”

His hands tightly grab onto your hips, shaking your body to match the way in which he moves around the sheets as he throws a small tantrum, “why do you have to be so cute. I can’t tell you no when you’re so cute.”

“Then don’t,” you pop open the pallet, running the fluffy brush through a pretty glittery peach color that immediately put your mind on the boy below you when you first opened it, “let me doll you up baby.”

His body finally stills as he lets himself melt into the mattress, not seeming to be in the mood to argue too much, “fine. You’re lucky I love you just as much as I love being beautiful,” his tone so dramatic, in a way only he could truly pull off.

“Hm, love you,” you hum as you scoot your body further up his, tapping the brush against the edge of the packaging, before swiping it across the apples of his cheeks.

His face scrunches up when the soft hairs of the brush tickle the skin of his nose, making your heart swell. His eyes are the only things more sparkly than the glitter that warms his complexion, as they stare up at you.

“You’re very pretty when you’re concentrated,” he mumbles, seeming not completely willing to let the compliment pass his lips.

“Thank you Hyuck,” you look up to catch his eyes when you sense the nervousness in his tone. Regardless of the amount of time you have spent together, he still tended to get flustered when paying you compliments, almost as if you wouldn’t accept them, “you’re pretty always.”

His ears flush, warming to match the powder on his cheeks, as he grumbles out a quiet ‘shut up,’ just as good at taking compliments as he was at giving them.

Feeling content with the amount of makeup covering his face, you lean your body across from his to place the palette and brush on the small table next to the bed, a quiet laugh sputtering out of you when he digs his nose into your collarbone.

When you come back to him, you press your chest against his, folding your arms to use as a pillow as you peer up at him, making him tilt his head back and down to stare intently back at you through his eyelashes.

“You really are Hyuck,” his hands run up your sides as you speak, his fingers stopping to dig into the skin below your ribcage, “prettiest boy alive.”

His eyes sparkles as you watch as a switch flips in his mind, a devious grin spreading across his face and his fingers digging deeper, the flustered boy no longer underneath you, “pretty enough to take a seat?”

“Ew what?” you sit up quickly in shock, ignoring the lightness in your head to shake your head at the evil looking boy, “what the fuck does that mean?”

He laughs at the way your face screws up, your nose scrunching in a way that makes his heart beat faster, and you can’t help but join him in his contagious giggles, “I don’t know. I was trying to be smooth,” he says between his hiccupping laughter, “it would probably have been easier to just say that I want you to sit on my face.”

Your face warms and your body stiffens when he speaks. It's not that you didn’t get the implications at his initial innuendo, but him saying it so boldly weighs differently on your mind and stirs differently in your stomach.

It's your turn to spit out a less than confident ‘shut up’ as you reach to pinch at the bridge of his nose, avoiding the makeup you would rather not discuss the price of.

“I’m serious,” his eyebrows wiggle and his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he takes in your flustered expression, his greedy hand pressing you down to grind onto his stomach, “grab some handlebars. Take a ride.”

“Donghyuck, gross,” you lift off his body to stand next to the bed as it feels like something was crawling across the entire span of your skin, and you would rather not admit whether it was in disgust or arousal with how juvenile his words were.

He’s quick to grab the waistband of your leggings and start tugging at the flimsy fabric before you could run off, “I said I was serious baby,” the strength of his pulling exposing the skin of you hip, a shiver running through you when his thumb brushes the sensitive skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. C’mon give me a taste.”

“I don’t know Haechan. I don’t think you want me sitting on your entire face,” your shoulders tuck in towards your chest as the idea of anything going wrong runs through your mind.

Annoyance crosses his face as he rolls his eyes, his other hand joining in tugging at the fabric around your hip, pulling more aggressively, “I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t sure,” he sounds vaguely offended at your doubt. Your leggings and underwear finally falling around your ankles, his hands pulling you closer as you step out of them, “now stop being a baby and sit on my face.”

You squeak when he grabs at the back of your leg, pulling you back onto the bed to straddle his chest, your hands fumbling to grab at his shirt to stop yourself from tumbling at how aggressively he had grabbed you. He continues to manhandle you to place your knees above his shoulders before he slides further down the bed to place you directly over his face.

“See that wasn’t so hard. And you know if you genuinely want me to stop you can just say the word, but from my angle,” he pauses to tilt his head, looking at you as if he had proved he was smarter than you, “you don’t usually get this wet from something you don’t want do you?”

The roll of your eyes and the grumbling in your chest is interrupted by the sting of him digging his teeth into the tender skin of your inner thigh, a whimper falling from your lips as he licks over the sore spot, his nails biting into the skin of your hips.

“You always smell so good baby,” he lays open mouthed kisses across your skin, his tongue rolling around and tickling you. He takes a deep breath in making you squirm, “bet you taste just as good.”

“Hyuck please,” your fingers thread through his hair as you look down at him giving him the best puppy eyes you could manage from where you sat, “if you want it so bad, don’t tease me.”

He shakes your hips side to side in the same way he does when he tries to convince you to dance with him in the kitchen at 1 AM, and it hits you that you really would do anything for the devious boy with his head tucked between your thighs, “you’re so fun to tease baby. You get so worked up.”

“You’re evil,” you huff, your spine straightening at the warm sloppy kiss he places on your clit after he speaks, his hands pressing you tighter against him.

He runs the flat of his tongue across every inch of you, stopping only to quickly dig the tip into your clit, a hum of a laugh rumbling against you at the whine you let out.

The tip of his nose takes over the job of pressing into the sensitive button of nerves, as he presses his tongue into your entrance to lick up the arousal that was dripping from you. His eyes squint with a proud smile, and his hands slowly run up your stomach and under your shirt to grope at your chest through the thin fabric of your bralette.

His eyes press closed and his head tilts back as his tongue drags back up to your clit, his lips wrapping around the bud, sucking it deep into his mouth. His fingers pull and pinch at the fabric blocking him from the full expanse of your chest, until it snaps up towards your collarbones. His fingers are quick to grab and pinch at your tender nipples, a whimper slipping out of you at the slight bite of pain.

He presses kisses around your skin as he hums contently, “I knew you’d like it. Now come for me sweetheart.”

He presses his face back into you, his head shaking back and forth to quickly run his tongue against you in a way that makes your eyes roll far back into your head. Your stomach tightens and your hips rock against his face, your hands falling to dig his fingers back into the skin of your hips to still you so you can do nothing to escape the assault of his mouth. Your fingers tighten around his hair. The pulling on his hair creates a chain reaction, as the tug on his scalp makes him whine, and the feeling of the sound against you makes your orgasm start to spread through your nerves.

Your thighs clap around his head and a broken scream rips from your throat and your whole body begins to shake. A proud laugh sounds from below you in his glee from watching you all but lose your mind.

He begins pressing his mouth across your skin, as you slowly catch your breath, a loving look fills his eyes when you get the ability to open yours to look at him.

You mutter out a quiet and breathless ‘fuck’ as you try to lift your hips. Your nerves spark in your lower stomach when his fingers tighten, and he pulls you closer.

“Donghyuck,” your voice wary and nervous, as his eyes glimmer with a look that puts you on edge, “let me up.”

“Hm no,” his tongue runs quickly over your sensitive skin again making you yelp, “I don’t think I’m done.”

“You fucking suck,” your tone harsher than you intended and your hand slapping against the headboard of the bed when he sucks your over sensitive clit back into his mouth as he laughs.

He pulls his mouth away long enough to wink and taunt you with, “that exactly what I’m planning on doing,” before flattening his tongue and pressing your hips into his mouth to grind onto his grinning face.

Your legs shake and you can’t help but aid in your moving hips as overwhelming pleasure pulls at your muscles. Cries and whimpers spill from your mouth as you fall to lean back onto your hands, the tips of your finger land above the band of his sweats and your palms pressing into the warm skin of his stomach that was exposed by his shirt being tugged upwards from his squirming.

Your mind was clear enough that you slowly lean further back, sliding your hand into his pants, a deep moan rolling from both your and his mouth at what you find.

“God why do you even bother buying underwear if you never wear it,” your words cut through the tension, making him laugh into you.

“I’d be an idiot to wear underwear with you prancing around being as cute as you are,” he presses your hips down harder to keep you grinding against him, whimpering when you wrap your fingers around him to tug at him in retaliation.

You gently squeeze him and start pulling up and down as well as you can as you balance on your other hand that is pressed into his hip. You are quick to start running your hand up and down the length of him, the thickness pressing heavy into your hand.

The sensitivity cause from your first orgasm, makes the promise of a second begin to thrum through you quickly, the feeling of tightness in your abdomen and the noises he makes causes the speed of your wrist pick up, as you twist your wrist in a way that you knew would get him to his finish quicker.

The heat of his mouth makes your hips dig deeper into his hot tongue as another orgasm starts biting at the nerves of your spine. Sensing the oncoming wave, Haechan latched his lips back onto your clit, sucking deeply as his tongue rolls over the skin. Your entire body starts to shiver, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan, as you come grinding into his face. Your eyes screw shut as your orgasm rolls over you in waves.

He licks you through the pleasure, overwhelming your senses, making you hand grip him tighter and you thumb press into where he spilled his arousal. The sounds falling from your mouth and the pressure of your hips rolling into his mouth makes his nails dig deep shapes into your skin as he comes with a whine. His hips thrust into your hands, as he comes onto your shaking fingers and up the span of his stomach. Both of your minds fuzzy from the pleasure causing you to keep petting at each other, and whines of overstimulation to fill the room.

A moment later you both come to your senses, as you all but jump away from each other, your body collapsing onto the other side of the bed as you both pant and heave. Your eyes roaming around each other's bodies and faces as if you both are awestruck by the other's existence. The tired smile that pulls at your lips is soft and innocent compared to the smug and devious grin the boy across from you adopts.

His fingers wrap around your ankle, tugging you into his lap, before he leans to tickle your sides, “I told you you’d like it,” he teases as you grab at his wrists in an attempt to push him away, mumbling the words ‘shut up’ over and over in attempt to drown him out, finding the task difficult as he licks at your neck between taunts, “you liked sitting on my face huh baby? Like when I make you come?”

Your eyes roll in irritation, pushing him to press his back into the mattress, digging your face into his neck and pressing your full weight on top of him to hold him down,

“Shut up you messed up your blush.”

[samanthadalton]

Thank you for writing my Poppy sketchbook request!! I loved it! 😭😭💕💕

Anyways, I have another idea: Poppy and MC doing body shots at a frat party!

I'm so sorry I keep requesting stuff. Hehe

I’m really glad you loved it anon it means a lot. Sorry if you were waiting a while for this one because I’m working through the requests now, I hope you enjoy it 💖💖

pairings: Poppy x mc

(Takes place after chapter 7 of queen b) 

taglist: @cloud9in @somewillwin @baexpoppy @save-me-the-last-dance @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth (i forgot i had a taglist for poppy but if you wanna be added on in future fics let me know 😁)

word count: 2.3k (its a long one) 

Body Shots 

The party at the frat house is in full swing, music blaring from the speakers, the pulsating and infectious beat echoing throughout the entire house. Every inch of the house is filled with drunk college students, all immersed in the party, drinking, dancing, playing beer pong and the classic, hooking up. 

Poppy Min Sinclair stands in the corner of the living room, a scowl etched on her face as she observes her surroundings. Veronica’s nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly live streaming for her picta fans and after many gruelling hours of begging and pleading, Chloe was back at the queen b’s side as her number 2. Chloe looks at the party-goers longingly, wishing she could join in on the fun but with Poppy in a sour mood tonight there’s no chance of that happening. After throwing away her remaining self worth to get back into the strawberry blonde’s good graces, she was not about to mess it up again by ditching her. 

You hover at the front door of the frat house, self-conscious about being in the public eye after weeks of hiding since Poppy released that embarrassing hog calling video. Everywhere you went, you were met with stares, laughs and even a student or two who would mock you. 

“Girl stop worrying” Zoey says reassuringly placing her hand on your shoulder, “everyone’s practically forgotten about the video.” 

You glare at Zoey indignantly, and then roll your eyes, “no they haven’t. I mean yesterday someone literally sent hay to our dorm room. Maybe this was a bad idea.” You turn away from the door and begin walking away. Zoey chases after you, her hand firmly clasps your arm as she tugs you towards the door. 

“Bea, pleaseeeee. Tonight is all about getting drunk and having fun. Please stay” She bats her eyelashes while giving you the puppy eyes treatment and your doubts start to dissipate.

You stand a little straighter, giving Zoey a resolute nod, “you’re right.” You begin mentally steeling yourself as you stare down the Alpha’s front door, which somehow looks way more intimidating than the first time you were here. 

Zoey ushers you in through the front door where you are met by a half naked, unmistakably drunk, Ford who throws his arms around both you and Zoey, “looks who’s hereeee.” he takes a swig from the cup in his hand, “we were hoping you would come Bea.” 

“Really?” you raise an questioning eyebrow at Ford who replies with an eager nod, pulling both you and Zoey into the living room. He motions at the dj who gives him a knowing nod, and the music suddenly changes and the sounds of your hog calling, which begins to echo throughout the entire frat house, evoking an assortment of reactions. All the students turn to look at you, humour written all over their faces while embarrassment is on yours. You look around the room and your gaze meets Poppy, whose lips quirk up, her eyes glimmering with amusement as she stares you down. You feel like you’re staring right at the face of the devil itself, and anger begins to flood through your body.

Zoey looks at you apologetically once the normal music resumes and she draws you into a hug, and mumbles an apology in your ear, “we can go if you want you.” 

You eyes once again roam the room, most students once again indulging in the party while some gawk at you, finding the ordeal humorous. You mind drifts to Poppy and how infuriating she is, because this is all her fault. You shake out of your reverie and softly shake your head, “no.” Zoey raises a worried eyebrow at you, “I came here to get drunk so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” You both walk over to the keg, pouring yourself and Zoey some beer in some plastic red solo cups and drain the entire thing within seconds before refilling it. 

“You might want to take it slow,” Zoey says, as she carefully sips her beer. 

“Nope, I need to forget the last couple of weeks existed,” you raise the cup almost as if you're doing a toast before downing the rest of it. You sharply inhale as you feel the alcohol beginning to warm your body, and you feel yourself starting to feel more at ease. You’re about to pour yourself another cup until a familiar voice comes up behind you, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. 

“I see the Alpha’s are doing their regular charity work by taking in a stray,” her voice crackles with detest as she looks you over, but you notice her eyes lingering on your body but you don’t blame her since the dress you’re wearing is doing wonders for your figure. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already used a line like that before Pops, don’t tell me you’re losing your touch already?” you give her a little smirk, her eyes glowering at the sound of the nickname you’ve given her but she brushes over it and returns a demonic smile. 

“Hmm, maybe it’s because my point still stands. You don’t belong here. Maybe you’ll be better off on that farm of yours, getting down and dirty with the pigs than the frat boys.” 

“You didn’t mind getting down and dirty with me a few weeks ago.” Chloe who’s standing behind Poppy gives a small gasp, while Zoey stares at you, mouth hanging open. Poppy however, stares at you, all sense of amusement wiped from her face as a fire begins to burn in her eyes. 

Poppy turns her head slightly, speaking over her shoulder, “leave us now.” her voice commanding, and Chloe awkwardly migrates into the party. A few seconds later Poppy raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Zoey, “why are you still here new money? Did befriending Farmsville cause you to lose brain cells or something?” Zoey sputters and looks to, waiting for your answer. 

“It’s okay Zo, go and enjoy the party. One of us should be able to without feeling like the air is being sucked out of the room.” Poppy lets out a small huff but Zoey obliges and walks but not before mouthing, “you and Poppy?”. You respond with a wink and then you’re left with the strawberry blonde who’s just staring daggers at you. 

“Listen here you oversized gremlin” she takes a menacing step towards you, but you stand your ground no matter how much steam is coming out of her ears, “you weren’t even that good in bed so I wouldn’t get all high and mighty if I were you.” 

“Funny, because I remember you screaming out my name.” 

“Hmm, I remember you begging me to say yours.” she retorts, with less sass but her tone almost seductive. As the air between you intensifies, Poppy does something you would never expect, she looks away. 

“So what’s her majesty doing in a place like this? You clearly aren’t having any fun?” You begin refilling your drink while Poppy’s face twists in disgust. 

“You’re still talking to me?” 

You roll your eyes, “Why are you always such an uptight bitch? Does it ever kill you to have some fun?” 

“I have fun Farmsville. I’m just not a juvenile like you, finding entertainment in the most banal things.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just plain boredom, you’re not sure but something within you sparks a challenge as you raise an eyebrow at Poppy and say, “prove it.” Maybe Poppy’s feeling the same way as you, because her eyes mirror your exact feelings when she gives you a small grin. 

“Okay Farmsville, but first I need a drink.” You lift up your cup towards Poppy who pushes it away with disgust, “no a real drink.” 

As the party blazes on, Poppy leads you to a secret room within the Alpha house which is a replica of a bar, only smaller but you repress making a joke about how it’s a literal minibar. 

Poppy reaches behind pulling out a bottle of tequila and looks at you with a devious glint in her eye. “Now we can have fun.” She takes out two glasses, pouring out a drink for you both, and you both quickly down the drink. You slightly wince as the tequila burns your throat but Poppy seems unaffected as she refills the glasses again. 

“Damn,” 

Poppy raises a cocky eyebrow at you, “bet you didn’t think I could hold my own Farmsville.” 

“I’ll have to remember to not underestimate you.” 

“You have a habit of underestimating me Farmsville, just know I will never back down” she runs a finger down your chest, and you sharply inhale as you gaze into her eyes. As the atmosphere intensifies you find yourself almost drowning in Poppy’s brown doe eyes, and you begin to slowly lean in, Poppy notices your expression and quickly lifts her glass blocking your face and drinks it all before setting the glass down hard. “You’re falling behind Farmsville.” 

You quickly grab the other glass draining the contents before giving her a small grin, “please, I could literally drink you under the table.” 

Without missing a beat Poppy retorts, “but could you drink off me on the table.” her voice commandeering with confidence. In the moments that follow, Poppy easily unzips her dress and slips out of it, before hopping up on the counter and reaching behind grabbing a lime wedge and a few salt packets. She eyes bore into yours as you helplessly appraise her body, your mind flashing back to the night you had sex with her, and how perfect her body felt against yours. How her nails dug into your back leaving red marks all over it, but the pleasure was too much for you to care about it. As your eyes travel back up Poppy’s body you reach her eyes, which are glimmering with humour. “So?” She lifts up a salt packet in her hand, “are we going to do this or are you too much of a coward?” 

You step forward daringly, and take the salt packet from her hand before licking your own hand and sliding it down Poppy’s chest, the substance of your saliva sticking to it. You rip open the salt packet with your teeth, while maintaining eye contact and slowly guide the strawberry blonde’s body down the counter and empty out the contents of the packet onto her chest. Poppy lets out a giggle, her cheeks flushing red as she takes you in. You pour some of the tequila into her belly button and eagerly begin licking her chest, your tongue exploring the swell of her breasts. You hear some light gasps from Poppy as you kiss your way down to her belly button, your lips encircling it as you begin to suck the alcohol out of it. Once you’re done, you move your head up and begin looking for the lime wedge, your brows furrowed with confusion until Poppy opens her mouth and you see the lime wedge between her teeth.

You stare at Poppy before slowly moving down to her mouth and taking the wedge between your own teeth, your lips softly graze together before you tilt your head up, biting down harder on the lime squeezing out all of its juice. You laugh victoriously as Poppy sits up and begins to pull you down onto the counter. 

“My turn.” She begins hastily unzipping your dress and pushes you down onto the counter, as you lie down she straddles your hips. She pours a glass and balances it on your chest. She licks her fore and middle finger before sliding it down your throat and pouring some salt onto it. She delicately places a lime wedge on your lips, your mouth opens slightly biting down on the peel. Poppy leans down and begins to run her tongue down your throat, her tongue caressing it as she licks up every grain of salt before moving down your chest. Her lips curl around the glass as she picks it up with her teeth, emptying its contents, plucking it out of her mouth and moving down to the lime wedge. As she slinks down, your eyes meet hers, as she takes in the lime and begins to bite down on it. While the peel is still in your mouth, she finishes the rest of it, slightly wincing by the time she's done. In that moment you look over at Poppy and her eyes glisten with want and her gaze lingers on your lips. You turn your head spitting out the rest of the wedge, grab the back of Poppy’s neck as your lips come crashing together in a passionate kiss. Her lips taste sour, hints of the lime juice and tequila remaining on them as you nibble on her bottom lip, eliciting a few high pitched moans from the queen b. 

You stay attached at the lips, Poppy’s tongue invitingly tangling with yours, as you kiss her without restraint. Your hands slowly start to trail down her body resting on her hip. You’re about to flip the strawberry blonde over on the counter until the door abruptly opens and a gasp pulls you out of the moment. You look over to see Veronica, phone in hand as she ogles at the two of you. 

Poppy pushes you away, jumping off the counter, “you better not be live streaming Lombardi” her voice quickly sobering up as she glares at the ombre-haired girl. 

“I wasn’t and I’m going to leave. Have fun with whatever this is.” Veronica gestures between the two of you before slinking out of the room and as you get your bearings, you see Poppy already slipping her dress back on. 

“So that’s it huh?” 

Poppy doesn’t answer, her gaze averted from yours, she quickly zips up her dress, before running a hand through her silky hair and moves towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns towards you, “this was fun Farmsville. Maybe one day we’ll continue this in a more private manner.” She gives you a small wink and disappears, leaving you and your whirlwind of thoughts. 

[pipedream-parrish]

Happy 34th birthday, Twinyards

read on AO3

i

It is Aaron’s 14th birthday and he has just found out that he has a brother - a twin brother, an identical twin brother, who looks exactly like him and might just understand him, too. His mom didn’t do anything for his birthday - she hasn’t since he was little, or maybe those long-forgotten memories were really just dreams that have managed to worm their way so deep into his psyche that he’s accepted them as truth. The kids at school sang to him, which was fine, but Aaron can’t help but think maybe now it will be different. Maybe once he meets this brother of his, then they can celebrate their birthdays together. Maybe they can give each other presents, and eat cake, and blow out the candles using the combined forces of their breath. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

(Andrew spends this birthday choking down cake that Cas got him, trying to hide the fresh marks on his arm, and thinking about the best way to keep his mysterious brother as far away from him as possible)

((one month later, Aaron receives a letter in the mail. He couldn’t tell you everything it said - he just knows that all of these maybes have just been thrown into the middle of a busy highway to be crushed under uncaring tires.))

ii

Its Aaron’s 15th birthday and his mother has celebrated by beating the shit out of him and then throwing a random assortment of pills from the bottom of her purse in his direction as an apology, and Aaron cannot help but think that maybe it won’t have to be like this anymore. He thinks about what Andrew said (Andrew, who really does look just like him, and who seemed so angry about Tilda, and seemed to believe that Aaron didn’t deserve, that he deserved good things--) had said to him, thinks about how maybe when Andrew moves his mom will stop it, maybe it’ll be alright, maybe nothing will hurt anymore and everything will be okay and he’ll have a brother. It’ll be the two of them against the world, and Aaron may not know this other boy all that well, but he promised to protect him, so that must mean something, right? Even if before that he said he didn’t want anything to do with Aaron, he changed his mind, and thats what matters, right? Right? And so when Aaron blows out the birthday candles that he bought for himself at eh convenience store the night before, he wishes for his brother to come home soon, and for them to be a family like they were supposed to be. Like he deserves.

((Six months later, Tilda is dead and Aaron has stopped believing in family.))

iii

It is Andrews’s 16th birthday and he has not spoken more than two words to his brother for most of the year, but Nicky tries to force them to do something, to celebrate, to be normal teenagers for once. Andrew leaves halfway through the elaborate dinner that Nicky has prepared, and pretends not to see the sad look he aims at his retreating back. Pretends that he doesn’t care what Nicky thinks of him, what Aarons thinks of him. Pretends that he stopped caring about Cass, that actually he didn’t care about that, either. Pretends and pretends and pretends, and convinces everyone but himself. 

((He’s not so great at lying to himself yet. He’ll get better with age.)) 

Late that night, after he’s heard everyone else going to bed, he sneaks downstairs and steals a slice of the double-chocolate cake that Nicky got them. There are already a couple of slices out from where Nicky and Aaron had some, so hopefully, this moment of weakness will go unnoticed. 

(Aaron spends his 16th birthday sad and mourning, refusing to look his brother in the eye. When he blows out the birthday candles with no help from a magical brother, he wishes that he never met Andrew in the first place. Not that he believes in magic or wishes or anything good at all, anymore. He barely has a bite of his cake before leaving the table. He, too, pretends not to see Nicky’s teary eyes as he leaves him standing alone in the kitchen, the remnants of a wasted attempt at love scattered all around him)

((he, too, is not so great at lying to himself yet. He, too, will get better with age))

(Nevertheless, when he hears Andrew come downstairs in the dead of night, he creeps into the hallway to watch his petty theft)

((He never mentions it.))

iv

It is Andrew’s 17th birthday and he is so high off the ground that he never even realizes the date.

Or maybe he does and just forgets.

The meds are still new, and he’s not used to them yet. Not used to the loudness, and brightness, and plastered on a smile. His cheeks hurt all the time now - he is constantly working muscles that have not had much use, the last couple of years 

(the last couple of lifetimes)

Needless to say, it is Andrew’s 17th birthday and he does not even realize it, and instead, he spends it in his room, his precious room that has a lock that works, coming apart at all his frying edges. Boys like him were never meant to grow old. Boys like him were never meant to last. And so he lays there and shakes uncontrollably, and laughs, too, tells himself this is fine, he’s fine it’s all fine and knows better than to believes it. Perhaps it is a mercy, that he eventually gets used to the meds. 

Perhaps it is not.

(Aaron doesn’t celebrate his birthday, either. Instead, he picks up extra shifts at Edens and goes to bed early. 

He cannot wait to leave this fucking house)

v

It is Aaron’s 18th birthday, meaning that he is a legal adult. He finds this funny. He has always been an adult; he was an adult when he was four and creeping across the house on silent feet to steal crackers from the pantry because mom forgot to feed him; he was an adult when he was 10 and forging his mothers signature on school papers, and making excuses for why she couldn’t come into parent-teacher conference night; he was an adult when he was sitting across from his reflection in a juvenile detention facility, and promised protection. One more birthday doesn’t mean shit.

(Andrew agrees. He, too, has been an adult for as long as he can remember.)

((Still, when Nicky slips cards under each of their doors wishing them a happy birthday and telling them he’s proud of them, and that he hopes that adulthood treats them right, well. If Aaron squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can to prevent the tears from escaping, and if Andrew tares it up into a million pieces because it almost makes him feel something, then no one needs to know))

vi

It is November 4th, and the newly-coined monsters are in Columbia, just like they are most weekends. They make the same stops as always, go to the same club, the same restaurant. 

Never once is the word birthday mentioned.

vii

It is Andrew’s 20th birthday and he is about to make one of the worst mistakes of his life. For now, he sits against the windowsill, watching his smoke dissipate into the afternoon air, absently listening to the sounds of Nicky and Aaron’s video game wash over him. He’s grinning, as is usually is these days, and if he was capable of having a long-lasting coherent thought, he would want to carve that grin off his face.

Alas, he is not capable of long-lasting coherent thought. Oh well. Perhaps it’s for the best.

Renee got him a gift. Silly Renee. Always so nice, so kind, even to monsters like him. Hasn’t she learned better than that by now? It seems not.

When Nicky receives a phone call that leaves him in a panic, it is almost enough to garner Andrew’s attention. 

Almost.

When he leaves the room in a rush only to come beach with Neil, the enigma, the hallucination, the rabbit, in tow behind him, Andrew actually does start to pay attention. Only a little though. 

When Neil pulls him aside, and asks for the unimaginable, and then manages to make it seem like a good idea, well. Andrew’s interest has been peaked, and he agrees. Why not? It might be fun. Might be, might be, might be.

(It’s not. It’s not fun at all, and if nothing else then Andrew is finally allowed to leave that smile behind for good. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Andrew, happy birthday to me!)

((Aaron spends his birthday playing video games and wondering why the new kid holds such sway over his brother. When he looks back on that day, he will not remember any of that. He will only remember that that was the day everything went wrong, and he was unable to fix it.))

viii

It is Andrew’s 21st birthday, and it might just be a good one. No alarm wakes him up in the morning, even though he’s sure he set it last night, meaning he gets to sleep in. When he wakes up it’s to Neil bustling about the dorm room, clearly searching for something.

“Practice?” Andrew asks and is told in no uncertain terms that they will be blowing it off for the day. Yes, today is shaping up to be a good one.

Instead, they go out driving, blazing down empty roads as fast as the mas will take them, eating up millage and gas money and caring at all. Neil rolls down the window and lets out victorious whoops into the still afternoon, the wind flushing his cheeks and tousling his hair. Andrew almost thinks something disgustingly sappy about that but is able to rain in his own brain just in time. 

They got greasy diner food for lunch, and Andrew orders a massive ice cream Sunday that Neil doesn’t comment on. They go back to Fox Tower and lounge around their dorm, kissing and smoking and playing video games. They have pancakes for dinner, and Kevin doesn’t bother them once about going to tonight’s practice. Andrew goes to bed full and sated, and almost, almost, happy. It’s a good birthday.

((the next day at therapy, Aaron complains that he didn’t get to skip practice yesterday. Andrew shrugs and says that he should take notes for next year. It’s almost an invitation. Almost, but not quite.))

ix

It is Aarons’s 22nd birthday, and he takes a leaf out of Andrew’s book and skips practice. He and Katelyn drive into town, and walk up and down the streets, popping into stores at random and picking out delightfully ugly things for the other to buy. In one shop, Katelyn shows Aaron a shirt made from a disgusting green fabric with the gaudiest floral pattern he’s ever seen. In another, Aaron finds shimmering, sparkle filled pink and purple shoes with a six-inch heel. They both nearly get sick from laughing. That night, they go out to the fanciest restaurant they can afford and get wine drunk. Aaron tells Katelyn that he loves her, which is something that he’s told her a million times before, but that doesn’t stop it from mattering. This will always matter. She will always matter. He looks at her, just looks at her, and thinks about how lucky he is to have this. And he thinks about Andrew, just for a second, curses him for keeping her from Aaron. But then, for an even shorter second, the thought occurs to him. I hope he’s as happy right now with Neil as I am with her. 

((Andrew may not show it the same way, but he is. He is.))

x

It is their 25 birthday now (which it longer than either of them thought they would live), and after years of therapy and working through their issues, Aaron has decided once again that he wants a brother. And so he books a flight to Boston, and buys a ticket to Andrews game, and watches his brother play exy on their birthday. Their birthday. Sometimes he still forgets that they are a “they” now. He'll still say my birthday, my mom, my cousin, my family. But it's not just his, and so he meets Andrew at the player’s exit after the game and forces him to go to dinner with him. And they spend their birthday together, just the two of them, for the first time since they were born. And its-

Well, it’s not bad. It's kind of nice, actually. Stilted, at first, and undoubtedly awkward, but. 

But they’re still brothers, even after everything. They share family and history and most of their DNA, so it seems right that they also share a dinner. And they talk, about Andrew’s pro team and Aarons residency, and about halfway through Aaron realizes that even though he was the one who forced this, Andrew isn’t trying to stop it. He came with him to dinner, and he’s talked more in the last hour then Aaron thinks he ever has before, and Aaron realizes that he wants this too. Andrew wants a brother too. They part ways outside - Andrew doesn’t offer to drive him back to his hotel or to let him stay at his apartment, but that’s ok.

Because Andrew wants this too. 

Andrew wants this too.

epilogue 

It is the Minyard twins’ 34th birthday, and as has become a tradition they are each awoken by a phone call from Nicky. Aaron only grumbles for a moment before Katelyn is handing his phone to him and he’s picking up. Andrew takes longer, turning over and burying his face in Neil’s neck for a second or a minute or a year, before finally grabbing his phone. To be fair, it’s about 2 hours earlier for him than for his brother. When he was younger he would hang up, and Nicky would call back, and he’d hang up again, until around the third call when he would finally give in and answer and phone. He doesn’t hang up anymore. He supposes that he’s grown. It’s a facetime call, so he’s greeted with Nicky’s over-enthusiastic smile and Aarons bedhead that looks so much like his own. He props himself up on some pillows so that he’s nearly in a sitting position, and gives a halfhearted wave. Beside him, Neil stays lying down, curling himself into Andrew’s side. Andrew absently starts carding his fingers through his hair. Nicky starts to talk, telling them about the business, and the adoption process, and the cute thing that his and Erik’s dog did. King jumps up onto Andrew’s chest, and then there’s a lot of cooing over how cute she is. She starts to lick at Andrew’s temple, which makes everyone laugh and Andrew rolls his eyes. It’s ok. He doesn’t really mind. Aaron talks about the hospital, and then his toddler (who is really more of a kid now, she’s getting so big holy shit) bursts into the room, climbing up onto the bed. She says hi to her Uncle Andy (Neil taught her to say that when she was a baby, and it tuck. Again, Andrew doesn’t really mind) and Uncle Neil, and her cousins Nicky and Erik. they talk more, Andrew waking up and partaking in the conversion, occasionally mouthing things to Neil in Russian to make him laugh. He loves it when Neil laughs (he’s not so concerned with not thinking sappy things anymore).

It’s a good start to a good day. They order take out and eat it on the floor, just like they do every year. Neil gets him a cake, and he sings happy birthday, just like they do every year. 

A plane ride away, Aaron and Katelyn hire a babysitter and go out to dinner, just like they do every year. Katelyn gets him a loudly collared tie, just like she does every year.

It’s a good day for both boys (who are now much closer to men), but more than that, it is a good day for both brothers. For that is undoubtedly what they are now. Brothers. 

That night, they both get a text from Betsy. It says Happy birthday, my lovely boys. I hope this year treats you well. 

And then it does.

It does.

thanks for reading! if you reblog i’ll love you forever :)

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 10

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2487

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The broken laptop was taken by Sungjin that night, and he returned it to you a fortnight later with a new screen on it. Despite being grateful, you were still hopeless. “Brian’s gone for good, isn’t he?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on from him, Y/N. I hate seeing you this stuck. Don’t you want to write other stories and start living again?”

Staring up at the man, you nodded numbly. “I hoped I’d be living with him. I guess dreaming up the perfect guy isn’t a healthy thing to do.”

“It did happen, and your grief is validated,” he told you, giving your upper arm a gentle squeeze. “Everyone faces a loss of someone in their life at one point or another. And we have to learn how to continue on after they’re gone.”

“You’re right,” you murmured, smiling gently at Sungjin. “Thank you for being a good friend to me.”

“Officially friend-zoned,” Sungjin teased, dramatically grappling at his heart. You giggled, and this made him stop and smile. “And officially hearing a good sound come from you. I hope you can feel comfortable to laugh more often, Y/N.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Now that you have your device back, how about you go and write something? I’m sure it’s been a long two weeks.”

You grinned at his statement, nodding along. “My desktop is so ancient. I was close to spending a lot of money on a new one.”

“Well, now you don’t have to. Off you go and write, Miss Writer.”

Your smile fell as soon as you shut the door, the friendly term Sungjin just called you only bringing up the moments where Brian had called you that time and time again. Counting to ten, you avoided crying for the first time over your loss and smiled.

“All I have to do is keep counting and writing,” you instructed, marching down to your office and plugged in the laptop. It fired up immediately, and the new screen was pristine. Thankfully, all of your work was backed up to an external so you didn’t have to worry about losing your work. It surprised you, however, that the computer remembered where it last was in your session, the end of the Eternity document appearing in front of you.

Reading over the paragraph you had sent Brian, you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. “You did well, Y/N. You waited for love, and you loved him like no other. This story’s over now, though. Let’s move on.”

Slowly, you deleted your message, making sure the document said The End and closed out of it, moving it to another storage space on your external hard-drive before opening a new document.

It was time to step out of the limbo you had endured for too long.

“Lily, did you get my first submission?” you asked as you continued to tap furiously at your keyboard, not bothering to check the expression of your editor on the small window in the corner of your screen.

“I did, and it’s fabulous.”

“Just fabulous?” you asked, scrunching your up face in annoyance. “I don’t think fabulous is enough.”

“Ooh, someone is feeling good about her work lately,” Lily crooned, and you grinned. “It’s good to see you working this happily again, Y/N.

“Well, the Encounter series is done now, and I need to have a follow-up story.”

“Does your favourite constable know about this?” she wondered dreamily, and you stopped typing to shoot Lily a look. “What? I distinctively remember you swooning over your protector. There’s no hope for you two to have a romance behind the scenes too?”

“Lily, I might be a writer who enjoys a good love story, but that’s all it remains as for me, a story. Sungjin is my friend, and I’ll surprise him with the final manuscript when this is done.”

“Yes boss!” she cheered and then gasped. “Oh, by the way! I heard that pre-order sales for Eternity have surpassed Captivated! When it launches in two week’s time, I’m certain you’re going to rank well!”

“And then that world will finally be at a close,” you murmured to yourself, Lily straining to hear what your lips had expressed. When you noticed her confusion, you smiled brightly. “Thanks for all your hard work over the past three years on this project, Lil.”

“You wrote them, Y/N. That world, especially Eternity, is a masterpiece.”

“Well, I hope the next story will be even better. More than fabulous, even.”

“You never let a single thing slide. I’ll sing your praises further when you send me the chapter you’re working on right now!”

“Onto it!” you said with a wave of goodbye, and the video call ended.

Slumping in your chair, your eyes shifted towards the wall calendar where the date had been circled for Eternity’s release.

You had taken Sungjin’s advice and picked yourself up out of the dumps. Of course, it hadn’t been easy, and still to this day you had moments where you yearned for Brian. However, you had remained strong since your initial resolve and left Eternity where it belonged – in your completed archive. You hadn’t sent messages, you didn’t open the document, and aside from when obligated to, you didn’t speak of that world to anyone. It still hurt too much, and you were looking forward to a time where this was all just a fond memory in your writing career.

Right now, with the impending sales and then signing tour that was booked, however, you were doing your best to distract yourself from anything that might make you cave.

Writing your police officer au was definitely helping with that, and you launched into typing again about Sungjin and Ella, you two protagonists.

You knew you probably should change his name, but the story made the most sense to you when you imagined your friend. Although you did wonder how you could separate the two when it came to the more romantic parts in the novel, you were having a lot of fun, remembering those juvenile feelings you once had for Sungjin before Brian stepped out of the laptop and changed your life entirely.

Sigh. You had thought of Brian again.

“When will I stop doing that?” you wondered in a sing-song voice, trying to keep upbeat. It was then that a new document popped up on the screen, and you groaned loudly. “And when will you stop glitching?”

It wasn’t the first time the new document tab would appear, now and then when you were in the midst of typing. You assumed you kept hitting the keyboard shortcut for opening it somehow and mentally wrote yourself a note to check if it could be disabled when you were done with this chapter.

Paying it no mind, you continued writing your story, not thinking once about all the mysterious happenings that preluded Brian’s appearance in the first place.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you today!” a young voice announced, and you smiled brightly at the teen before you. “I’m a big fan of Brian and Charli!”

“Aren’t we all?” you mentioned happily back, reaching for the copy of Eternity she had placed down to sign. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Jennie! With an i-e.”

“Well, Jennie, with an i-e, I’m so glad you came today. I hope to see you at my next book signing in a couple of year’s time.”

“You can count on it, Y/N!”

The day continued much in the same, and whilst you were overwhelmed by the support of your fans, when you entered your hotel for the evening, you were more than emotionally exhausted.

“Stupid Charli. She’s living the dream,” you muttered and then caught yourself, sighing heavily with your unexpected negativity.

It was foolish to be jealous, and yet after listening to everyone say how perfect Brian and Charli were for each other all day long, you understood your reaction. Even if you were moving on, you wanted to be the one who was perfect for Brian Kang.

“Let’s count to ten, shall we?” you told yourself, breathing deeply and following through with your mantra. After ordering room service for dinner, you settled into the plush bed with your laptop, ready to stream a crime show you had been watching for research.

When the screen appeared though, it was opened on Microsoft Word with a new document waiting for you. You groaned and looked into the settings to make sure you had in fact disabled the keyboard shortcut. It was as you had left it and you let out a small huff at the program before hovering your cursor over the exit button.

Something in you made you pause, however, and you peered at the empty document with some interest. “Why are you following me around?”

Thinking of how Brian would always open a new document to converse with you, a glimmer of hope surged through, and you hit the keys with a rapid pace.

Are you there, Brian Kang?

Nothing came, and your words didn’t dissolve either. Rolling your eyes at your rash reaction, you closed the document and opened Netflix.

You were well into the throes of the show when your room service knocked on the door, casting you out of bed and over to the door. Once you returned with the tray of food you had been given, you noticed the document was back on the screen again.

“What is going on?” you wondered, staring at it for some time. Placing a hand on the screen, you closed your eyes and willed Brian to come out. It had been so long since you had done this, and yet your fervour was stronger than ever. You prayed so hard that when you opened your eyes and saw nothing there, your tears were immediately at the surface, cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so over pining for you. Either come back or leave me alone!” you wailed, pushing the laptop aside and curling up into a ball.

You didn’t see it then, but the cursor started to move as if someone was holding down the space button, creating ten pages before it stopped.

The tour ended, and you were all too grateful to wake up back home with Binks curled up beside you. Kissing your furbaby until he made it apparent that your affection was unwanted, you climbed out of bed to brew yourself some coffee.

Today, you felt free. The saga of Eternity was over and whilst you knew you would still have to do a couple more interviews here and there in the future where you would be asked about the series, and your Discord would still be hit up regularly about reviews over the final story in the trilogy, today you were at least free from the contractual sides of the story. You wouldn’t have to actively talk about Charli Evers and Brian Kang ever again.

You also hoped that one day, once your pain resolved enough, that you could reread the series and remember why you had loved it all along, instead of the jealousy and burden you felt towards it right now.

With coffee and toast held in either hand, you bounced off to your office and sat down at your desk, blinking when you found your laptop on your desk already.

Had you pulled it out of its bag last night when you got home?

Shrugging, you hit the power button and were surprised when it immediately loaded up your home screen. “I did turn you off, you finicky device.”

Lots of little things had happened since getting the screen fixed, and you had left it down to that incident messing with it. You didn’t have it in you to believe otherwise.

Opening your emails, you went through the important correspondence, threw out the spam, and moved the replied ones to their relevant folders. Once your inbox was empty, you moved onto your other admin tasks for the day, ensuring you were all caught up before you stepped back into your police officer au.

When ready, you clicked on the file, and instead of it appearing, it was a blank document. “Oh no, you don’t! There were words in this file!”

Looking at the title of the word document, you were relieved to see it untitled and not that of your current story. Clicking again on the file from your writing folder, another blank document appeared instead.

“Open it! I have to write about Sungjin and Ella!” you exclaimed, hitting the file repeatedly. Tens of blank documents appeared with your efforts until you were panting with the annoyance. Sitting back, you shook your head. “That’s it! I’m buying a new laptop! I’m done with you!”

Before you could close the screen down, however, you noticed that one document appeared and had words in it. But it wasn’t your current one. Instead, Encounter appeared on the screen, scrolling at a rapid rate to the bottom. Then it changed tabs, moving through Captivated just as fast. Finally, Eternity finished it off, the words The End simply staring back at you.

“…Brian?”

Leaning forward towards the screen, you waited to see what would happen next. Annoyed that your hopes were raised yet again, you started to close the empty tabs, leaving the three stories up. A final tab appeared, and you burst into tears as words started to appear on the screen.

It’s time to start writing our story now.

Standing up shakily, you pointed at the screen. “Hurry up then, I’ve waited far too long to write this story with you.”

The screen went blank as your heart began to thud erratically in your chest, your eyes widened whilst waiting for what would happen next. Reaching for the power button, you watched as the screen lit up.

And then you felt arms embrace you immediately. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“I don’t care right now,” you managed to say despite your emotions running down your face. Pulling back just enough so you could see Brian’s handsome face, you shook your head in disbelief. “As long as you’re here.”

“For good,” he assured, leaning in for a passionate kiss. “That world is closed and done with. Whilst ours is only beginning.”

You knew with time, you would want to know why it took so long for Brian to return and to scold him for hurting you so much. You also knew Brian would placate you in every way, and you would hear all about his equal longing and struggle without you at his side.

But for now, this was all you needed. Dream men were hard to find existing in real life. You had found yours again, and this time you wouldn’t write him in one way or another. You’d let your life together pen the journey you had at each other’s side.

Your story was about to be continued.

_________________

Epilogue

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[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 7

Bit of a longer section this time... Don't forget to catch up by reading Place Your Bets and Parts 1-6 of this story, linked in the Master List. (Please forgive me for not posting every link separately just this once.) I'm basically writing this one around whatever is happening on Impact/ New Japan every week, so I know some of the timing is screwed up but I didn't expect that this was going to be picked up as a plotline while I was writing the damn story.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,206

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing, vaguely stalker-ish behavior that some might find troubling

Impact is a weird place. At least, it seems weird compared to New Japan, where everything is scheduled and organized and planned. Impact seems like it’s always on the brink of disaster but the people who’ve been here a long time seem to enjoy it a little, the happy chaos that makes things unpredictable. Everyone can and does screw up occasionally, so the one thing that’s intolerable here is acting like you’re infallible.

Since you arrived to fill the newly created position of talent liaison between the two companies, you’ve realized how insanely hard you’ve been working for the last few years. You always knew you were doing too much but being at a place that runs so differently, you find yourself worrying that you’re not doing enough. A couple of times, you’ve started helping to move equipment to demonstrate that you’re working hard.

The more low-key atmosphere seems to make everyone friendlier, which means that it hasn’t been difficult for you to get along with people. You’ll join in when everyone goes to a bar, or out for dinner. But the whole time, you’re keeping an eye on him.

You’re not exactly clear on why David and Juice got sent back to Impact when there’s clearly no plan to use them immediately. On the other hand, it’s not like either of them is going to be part of a huge program back in Japan, so it’s probably just a nice gesture so that the guys can see their families and friends before they get featured on TV every week. The nice part for you is that Fin Juice are always brought in for rehearsals, tapings, meetings, all the things that you’re part of, even if they aren’t used on screen. Impact want to use them as much as they can.

You keep your distance. When he’d first seen you, he’d gotten in your face almost immediately, although he waited until there weren’t any witnesses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“I’m working for Impact now,” you’d answered coolly. “I guess you’re going to have to get used to having me around.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Maybe I just want to show a wider range of experience on my CV.” It was obvious that he didn’t believe a word you said, so you decided to drop all pretense. “I’m here because you’re here. Because I want to be close to you.”

“Well you’re shit out of luck there, sweetheart,” he snarled, “because I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“I’m not going to get in your way or anything. If you don’t want to be around me, you don’t have to.”

“What sort of weird little game is it the two of you have going? Is he pissed because I haven’t told him that I’ll face him for his stupid title? Or is he just worried that I’ll beat him, again, and he thinks that sending you here is going to throw me off my game? Because I promise, I’m not falling into that trap again.”

“He has nothing to do with me being here,” you explained. “He didn’t even know I was moving. I came here for you.”

He sized you up, obviously still furious at having to be around you.

“Whatever he’s sent you here to do,” he growled, “I don’t care. Whatever we might have been before, we’re not friends, we’re not on good terms. I have no interest in being anywhere near you.”

“That’s fine,” you responded, voice weak with shame. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m just happy to be around you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious. I know you don’t want anything to do with me. So just keep ignoring me. I’ll stay out of your way.”

Immediately, you could see that he was frustrated. He’d wanted to fight, maybe to tell you that you were wrong or that nothing could ever happen between you again. He hadn’t been prepared for you to just admit defeat and admit that you were so sad that you’d followed a man who couldn’t have cared less about your existence all this way.

Or perhaps he’d been angry because he sensed that you’d followed him here because you felt like he did care about you, that all the vitriol he’d spewed in your direction seemed like a cover for the fact that he had deep feelings for you, feelings that hadn’t been obliterated by seeing you back with Jay.

When you’re occupied, this feels like the exact job you wanted. When you went to Gedo and told him that you were going to quit, you’d made a calculated gamble. New Japan didn’t like to lose people and their fragile status because of the pandemic and the hiring of a new president made them all the more eager to hold on to the people they had.

At first, Gedo had just thought that there was a problem with you and Jay and had encouraged you to let it blow over. He hadn’t asked, although he was clearly curious. Everyone knew the man had an appetite for gossip. But as he’d listened to your reasoned case about your job and how you weren’t ever going to move on to something bigger and better, he’d come to agree, which was amazing since you hadn’t even given it much thought yourself until you’d sat down.

You’d been prepared to just quit and go back to the United States, to stake out Impact tapings and live dates if you had to, but Gedo had come up with a better solution. You would be the point person for New Japan with Impact and other American promotions. No one in Japan wanted to manage these things from a distance and the few American employees they had were occupied with the Los Angeles dojo.

You’d asked that you be the one to tell Jay that you were leaving, since you’d worked exclusively with him for so long. In the end, that had taken the form of a note you’d left him when you took off for the airport. You’d blocked him from your phone, from social media, everything. There was nothing wrong between you. There was nothing at all between you. Because if there was anything connecting you, Jay could find a way to get you to do what he wanted, to keep you captive the way you had been for years.

True to his word, David will have nothing to do with you. The other New Japan talents can work with you. If he needs anything, he sends his partner to work things out. You don’t push it because what you’re doing is already bordering on creepy. If you’re wrong and he really doesn’t feel anything for you, it’s well beyond creepy.

When you aren’t thinking about what kind of monster you are, though, the job is fun. It’s great meeting all the new people and, as bawdy and gross as they are, you get along especially well with Karl Anderson and Doc Gallows. They’re legends in Japan, so there’s a bit of a “rock star” aura about them for you. But they’re also just juvenile and dumb and sometimes, at the end of a long day, that can be very welcome.

Karl has been jokingly trying to grab your clipboard with all your notes from you throughout the day, and you’ve been telling him that he’s getting fined every time he does it. He walks by as if he’s not going to say anything at first but as he passes, he reaches back and grabs the clipboard. Your grip tightens immediately and you hug the board to your body. He isn’t even trying and you still need most of your strength to hold on.

The two of you struggle theatrically for a few moments, until he decides to surprise you by letting go. It unfortunately catches you a little too much by surprise and you accidentally smack yourself in the face, the metal clamp nailing you right underneath the eye.

“Oh my god!” Karl puts his hands on either side of your face, trying to get a look. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

He sounds legitimately mortified at the accident, which makes you laugh a little. You’re about to crack a joke at him when another voice cuts in.

“What the fuck? What happened?”

Out of nowhere, David Finlay is standing next to you like a chaperone, his eyes demanding an explanation.

“It’s fine,” you mumble, rubbing at your face a little. “Just an accident.”

David’s face flushes when he sees that everything is amiable. You pat Karl on the cheek and give a tough little smile.

“Good.” David grows visibly tense as he says that final word and quickly turns on his heel.

“Think someone has a crush on you,” Karl chuckles once he’s out of earshot.

You laugh but make a mental note. It’s not just you that thinks there’s something there.

This incident pushes you to be just a little bolder and so, when you realize that the both of you are going to be staying a bit later than others, you sneak out to the parking lot and move your car so that it’s close to David’s. It’s because you truly believe that there’s still some kind of unresolved tension between you. As you’re heading back to the building, though, you can’t help but think about how you’d feel if someone acted this way towards you.

The rest of the day, you make sure to stay well clear of Finlay. It isn’t that difficult but you still notice him a few times, popping up near where you are. Is he doing this on purpose? Is he watching you? Although you’re always aware of him in your peripheral vision, you don’t ever look directly to see if he’s got his eyes on you. Somehow, though, you can feel his gaze lingering.

You putter around after you’ve completed your work for the day so that you can accidentally run into him in the parking lot. You exit a few paces behind him and try to figure a way to get him to at least say a few words.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” you call as you turn towards your car.

He looks up, glaring, like he wants to start a fight. It’s possible that he does, but that would involve having to talk to you and he definitely doesn’t want to do that. So he just gives you a poisoned look.

“Can you give me something just this once? I’ve stayed away from you, I’ve given you all the space I possibly can. I make it easy for you to pretend like I don’t even exist. Would it absolutely kill you to acknowledge that you were worried about me for three-quarters of a second earlier?”

“Don’t know what difference it makes.”

“Maybe I’d just like the little ego boost?”

“Fine, then,” he grunts, refusing to meet your eyes. “I rushed over because I saw what I thought was someone getting hurt. Karl can be kind of hard to take sometimes and I was worried he was acting stupid.”

You smile just a little at the admission. The second he notices this, he continues.

“If I’d realized it was you, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

‘Could you please stop it?” You can feel tears gathering in your throat and you suspect he can hear it too. He turns to go without another word and for the first time since you’ve arrived here, you can’t just let him go.

“Wait!” You run up to him, grabbing hold of his arms. “I know that you hate me and that I probably deserve that. I know I deserve it. But can you just try being human with me for a second?”

He gives an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?”

He sounds so fed up that you lose your nerve and are reduced to a stammering mess as you try to figure out what you need to tell him.

“I think you did see that it was me who was with Anderson. I think that you came rushing over because you saw me get hit and despite everything, you were worried about me. I think that even though you hate me, there’s a part of you that… that doesn’t. And I want to know if I’m right.”

If he’s affected by what you’re saying, he’s giving you no sign.

“Think what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

He tries to pivot but you hold on to him, grabbing his wrists.

“Are you not even a little bit flattered to know a girl moved from another continent just so that she could be close enough to admire you from a distance?”

“Yeah, you’re not at much of a distance right now.”

“Am I that repugnant?”

His face grows darker and he grabs both your wrists, pushing you back against your own car. His lips flutter like he’s trying to decide which bits of bile to hit you with first. You wonder if the sensation of your bodies being close for the first time in months is having the same effect on him that it is on you. He’s certainly breathing heavily, his chest swelling against yours.

He appears ready to speak but the only word that tumbles from his lips is “Fuck.”

He pins your wrists against the car and presses his lips to yours. It’s not the wild, angry kiss you might have expected, either. It’s hesitant and soft but insistent. After a few moments of this, you loosens his hold on your wrists and you immediately run your hands up his biceps and grab hold of his shoulders. He tenses under your touch, so you can feel the bulge of the muscle there. He’s not carved like Jay, not close, but all that power and strength is still there, hidden just beneath the surface. Although it’s never occurred to you before, it feels intimate and intensely sexy.

The kisses continue, increasing in intensity with your lips opening a little, your tongues dipping into each other’s mouths, until you’re both practically tearing into each other, grinding your bodies against the side of your car. Clumsily, he reaches for the door handle and, realizing what he’s trying to do, you slide your hand over to complete the job. You have to separate momentarily so that you can open the door, but he doesn’t even give you the chance to utter a word, pushing you down on the back seat and climbing on top of you before picking up very much where you’d left off.

He mutters curses when he breaks for air, clamping his hands around your face, as if he had to hold you there, as if this wasn’t exactly what you want to be doing. You can feel the rigid outline of his erection against your thigh and you ease one hand over it, rubbing the palm of your hand along the length until he pushes back a little.

He continues to plant wet, angry kisses over your chest as he works to open the buttons of your shirt with remarkable dexterity. He frees your breasts from the cups of your bra, roughly rubbing them and sucking one nipple and then the other hard between his lips and teeth.

“Play with your tits,” he rasps, pushing himself up and grabbing his belt.

You’re happy to oblige, making a show of running your fingers around the aureole and over the nipple, making each one prick up even more, then licking your fingers before returning them to the tender little peaks.

He’s worked his cock free and strokes slowly, his eyes fixed on your chest as you do as you’re told. You try to get his attention on your face, at least momentarily, but he’s consciously avoiding eye contact. After a few minutes, he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties down a little, increasing the speed of his hand as he stares at your wet pussy. He brings his tip close to your entrance, only to grimace and move back.

Worried that he’s about to run away despite the condition he’s in, you lean forward as much as you can, gently pushing his hand out of the way and replacing it with your own, guiding his engorged prick into your mouth. God, the sounds he makes, half-words and cries tumbling out of him in blind lust. Surreptitiously, you slide the rest of the way out of your underwear and run your hand over his thick thigh, tucking the panties carefully into the back pocket of his jeans. Let him find those a little later, when he’s questioning whether this was a good idea.

He begins to shudder a little but rather than finish in your mouth, he grabs a handful of your hair and shoves you back down on the seat. Once again, he pumps his cock, now shiny with saliva and precum, and once again, he’s taking pains not to look you in the eye.

“Touch yourself.” He nods at you and watches as you let one hand glide down your body, over your aching pussy.

The two of you continue like that, moaning as you both grow more excited. You hold yourself back a little, not wanting things to be over this quickly and also hoping that he’ll push inside you, the way you want so much.

“No,” he grunts, "Make yourself come.”

And so, a little begrudgingly, you increase the pressure on your clit, trying to keep your hand steady despite how slippery it is, watching as his movements grow faster as well. Just as you can feel yourself about to burst, you’re able to find his hand with yours, lacing your fingers through his. He doesn't resist. That contact is enough to pull you over the edge, and at the same moment, you feel the hot streams of his come hitting your chest as he gives a sort of ecstatic, pained cry.

You run your fingers through the mess on your skin, laughing softly. You have to use your shirt to wipe yourself off and as you do, you notice how ashamed he looks, turning his face as far away from you as he can.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I should have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

He doesn’t look reassured by this at all. He looks a little mortified, so you wrap your arm around his neck and pull him into a kiss. For a few seconds, he responds, eagerly even. But then he pulls back, shaking his head.

“No, I have to go, I can’t do this.”

“Can we at least talk?”

He shakes his head again and scrambles backward out of the car, refastening his pants as he does. He doesn’t even bother with the belt, just turns and walks away.

You crawl out of the car, clutching your shirt closed rather than lose the time it would take to do it up again.

“David, come on, we aren’t just going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for… I got a bit carried away. I’ll talk to you tomorrow or whatever.” He never even glances back.

[sweet-taiyaki]

His Sunflower (part 2) 🌻

Disclaimer: I didn’t really know where to go with part 2, but I hope you like it. And yes, there will be a third and final part.  

Pairing: ProHero!Eijiro Kirishima x Fem!Reader (she/her)

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo (Ground Zero), Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: You saw Red Riot and Ground Zero live in action, but when you saw Ground Zero’s internal clock diminish, you got worried and wanted to save him. Kirishima admired your selflessness. 

Quirk: Life Vision. Can view anyone’s internal clock by their wrist.

Warnings: Violence, some language, mentions of blood, little fluff

Taglist: @ chaeringpop

part 1 [2] 3

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I bowed to my superior and ended my shift. Sushi making is really starting to take a toll on my hands. I grab my coat and leave the restaurant.

“There you are,” Kirishima said, “How was your shift?”

“It was okay. You know you don’t have to walk me home every day. I can defeat villains like you with my eyes closed,” I said punching him.

“Alright, alright. Ow--that’s enough. You’ve just been so kind to me and I feel so manly around you,” he said.

“So I’m weak,” I joked.

“No—uh---no, not at all. I didn’t mean for you to perceive it that way. You’re strong and full of light like a sunflower!” he apologized.

“You’re cheesy,” I laughed.

“Come here, I wanted a (Y/N) hug all day,” he said with his arms open. He pulled away briefly to give me a soft peck. His kisses were so sweet and soft. I smiled as soon as he pulled away and he smiled back.

There were explosions and screams at a distance. Kirishima looks at me. “I have to go, but don’t worry I’ll be at your place after,” he said running in the opposite direction. I’ve never seen Red Riot and Ground Zero in live action before. He disappeared before I ran closer to the scene.

Kirishima charged at the villain with a punch. “It’s about time you showed up, shitty hair,” Bakugo barked. “You should have called me instead of taking on villains yourself,” Kirishima yelled back.

“HOWITZER IMPACT!” Ground Zero flew through the air sending an explosion tornado to the villain. The villain seems to create portals to escape their attacks. “Where is he? Die, portal man!” He appears near Red Riot.

“RED GAUNTLET!” Kirishima punches him into the brick wall that sent him flying. He transports again, over Ground Zero. Portal smashed Ground Zero into the ground. When Ground Zero tried to attack, Portal created an infinite portal to cause Bakugo to explode himself.

“Ground Zero,” I cried. Kirishima heard me and got distracted as Portal punched him, but his hardening anticipated the punch and punched him back. “(Y/N), get out of here! It’s not safe,” he yelled.

“Ground Zero’s clock,” I yelled. I escaped the police tape to rescue him. I was hovering over Ground Zero, looking at his wrist. His pulse is stable, but his internal clock was slowing dropping faster than normal. Kirishima was still battling the villain when I was aiding to Ground Zero. The villain noticed and engulfed me in his portal. “No!” Kirishima yelled. I fell through the portal and he closed it before Kirishima jumped.

Your POV

I was surrounded in a zero-gravity space in complete darkness. A purple ring opening came out. I floated over, hoping to escape, but it was a turn for the worst. I was in Portal’s lair. There were portals everywhere around the world that he could pop in at. Portal came into his lair. “You,” he pointed at me, “You’re under my control.” I struggled to get loose of his grip, but it only made him grab me more. He strained me and gagged me. “You wanna-be heroes always ruin all the fun. I just wanted to see some pros die, but no you had to come in out of nowhere to save them. They can cover themselves, kid. They are pros and people like you are just pawns that can easily die. I have some inventions. How do you prefer to die? Combat robots? Lethal injection? Or a slow painful death with my portals that take you limb by limb?” My eyes widen at his inventions.

Third Person View

Meanwhile, Bakugo is in the hospital. Kirishima is in the chair next to him. “Hey man, how are you feeling,” Kirishima saw his eyes flutter. “I’m fine. Did we get him,” he coughed. Kirishima shook his head in anger.

“No, and he took (Y/N),” he said with his head low.

“What,” Bakugo sat up, “He’s gonna die for sure. Let’s get him,” Bakugo said pulling his IVs out.

“Bakugo, you need to recover,” Kirishima warned.

“No, Kirishima. You didn’t hesitate to save me when the League of Villains took me. Not only is she a civilian, but she means a lot to you and makes you happy, which is why I’m gonna kill him. So, you coming with me or not,” Bakugo yelled.

“I have your back, let’s go,” Kirishima said confidently. They both ran out of the hospital.

Your POV

I have deep cuts on my legs and arms. My blood is starting to seep on the concrete. Portal creates another portal with a knife so I cannot anticipate where he would stab me. “If you tense up, it will only make it worse,” he said. I look down at my wrist and my clock is dramatically going lower. I take a stab to my hip. I cry out in pain and undo my gag restraint. “You won’t win. I will never give up and I’ll fight for my life before I surrender to you,” I yelled.

Portal got close to my face. “Wanna-be heroes don’t live,” he created a portal to my back. He pokes me with his knife where my heart is. “Where are the pros now? Do you think they really care for a civilian like you? Your quirk is useless, might as well be quirkless. However, I have a syringe that can make you powerful. You can have an amazing quirk and fight the wanna-be heroes with me and take on the pros,” he said.

“Never,” I replied.

“Suit yourself,” he said. He then took a stab to my shoulder and twisted it before he pulled it out. Immediately after, there was an explosion.

“Die, Portal,” Ground Zero and Red Riot came into his lair. “Oh look, it’s bomb guy and rocky,” Portal says, “You didn’t merely come to save this woman, did you? I believe the job is already done.” Kirishima looks over to me and saw the blood dripping rapidly. “You will pay for what you did to her,” Kirishima yelled angrily. Ground Zero blasted himself in the air and charged at Portal. “AP SHOT!” His concentrated blast impaired Portal sending him into his combat robots. This inspired him to activate his robots. The robots turned on and charged towards Red Riot and Ground Zero.

The robots were kinda juvenile considering that they were prototypes, but it tired Red Riot and Ground Zero. Once the robots were defeated, Red Riot turned to Portal. “Now it’s your turn,” he said determined. Portal extended his portals to go behind Ground Zero. He pulled a blast right before Portal went through. “Red Riot!” Bakugo yelled. “RED RIOT UNBREAKABLE!” Red Riot slammed Portal into the ground Ground Zero also charged his blast at the ground for a double hit causing a lot of wind to even burst through the ceiling. Portal was paralyzed and knocked out. Kirishima undid my restraints and held me in his arms. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I should have came sooner,” he said tearing up. Police and emergency sirens filled the air. I lightly cupped his face as I saw the light surround his face. “Eijiro, you’re my sunflower,” I said faintly. His eyes watered even harder and kissed me softly. “Get her to a hospital, now. She’s bleeding out,” Bakugo told the emergency services. Kirishima helped me on to the stretcher. He wanted to come with, but he was pushed away before I was taken away.

I woke up in the hospital with Kirishima over me. “You’re okay,” I said faintly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Kirishima laughed holding my hand. Bakugo was in the doorway. Some nurses were flirting with him, until he saw me sit up. “How are you feeling, broad,” Bakugo said. “I should heal quickly. Just sore,” I smiled, “Thank you for---”

“No,” Bakugo interrupted, “Not only have you saved Kirishima’s life, but you have also saved mine as well with your clock quirk. Kirishima told recovery girl that you said my internal clock was narrowing. She found the internal bleeding quickly and stopped it before it got serious. Just--just leave the hero work to the pros, you got that,” his voice changed. He left, but smiled on his way out.

“He’s always explosive, but I think he likes you,” Kirishima laughed. I smiled. He pulled out some taiyakis for us to share. “Here, I know you like these,” he smiled.

“Do you think my quirk is useless,” I paused.

“No, why would you think that,” he said.

“Portal said I would be better off quirkless unless I join him. He said I could have a better quirk if I was a villain,” I said.

“He’s trying to mess with your head. Don’t believe anything he said to you,” he said. He climbed up next to me in the hospital bed and put his arm around me. “I don’t know if I can do this, but I’m willing to get yelled at just so I can be next to you. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You’re my hero,” I said softly into his chest. He overheard me and looked down as I was dosing off in his chest. He laid his head on top of mine and kissed my forehead. “You missed,” I said half asleep. He cups my face and gives me a soft, sweet kiss. I couldn’t help but melt in his touch.

The next morning, I wake up with Kirishima lightly snoring. I kiss him to wake him up. “Good morning, babe. I didn’t realize that I stayed all night with you, but I’m glad I did,” he said hugging me, “You want some breakfast?”

“No, thanks. I need to make you breakfast one day,” I said.

“Is it sushi,” he joked. I hit his arm playfully. “Well I gotta go hit the gym with Bakugo, you sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m good. I’ll let you know if I do,” I smiled. He winked at me before he left.

I was discharged from the hospital and landed back in my apartment. I was greeted by my cat. I cleaned her litter box, fed her, and gave her fresh water. “I’m sorry I was away, girly,” I said to her.

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I return to another exhausting day at the sushi bar. My coworkers were concerned for me that I was bombarded with questions. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘How did it feel to be captured by a villain?’ ‘I bet you were so scared!’ I skated past the crowd to clock in. After this whole year of working here and now my coworkers actually want to get to know me since I was attacked by a villain.

I went through my shift, but then a familiar face walked in. “Bakugo,” I whispered. “How can I help—”

“Cut the crap,” he barked, “Why didn’t you tell us you were a pro-hero?”

The room stood still as everyone looked over to me. I pulled him aside to divide the attention, but then he dragged me out to the alleyway to find Kirishima. “(Y/N), are you a pro-hero,” Kirishima asked.

“Yes. In America, yes. I was instructed not to use my powers and license out of the States.”

“You think you’re better than me,” Bakugo yelled, “We need to battle, right here, right now, clock lady!” Kirishima held Bakugo back and slowly approached me. “Why would you keep that secret from me,” he said.

“I wanted to be normal. And I thought the best way to do it was to leave home and start new. But once I saw you dying, I knew I had to break boundaries. Please forgive me,” I said holding my face in my hands and collapsed to the ground.

Kirishima helped me back up and gave me a warm hug. “Your bravery is so manly,” he said. Bakugo was confused. “I’m still number one in the world, you got that,” he screamed. A couple of men passed the alleyway and saw Bakugo and Kirishima. “Hey guys, I know you,” a voice said coming towards them. Kirishima put me against the brick wall to say hi. I let them catch up as I slowly went back home.

“Bakugo! Kirishima! It’s been a while,” Kaminari and Sero said.

“What’s up, losers,” Bakugo bro hugged both of them.

“Sero! Kaminari! So good to see you,” Kirishima said.

“Yeah, bro. Great job with the Portal dude. He was a difficult villain. And looks like you’re still talking to the broad? I’m assuming was the girl you were with,” Kaminari pointed.

“Yeah, she’s—where did she go,” Kirishima concerned.

“Apparently, she is a pro in the states, but wasn’t allowed to use her power or license outside her home. My agency secretary researched her. She trained in jujitsu training along with her life vision. Not only does she save people, but she can also fight, which is why I have to battle her,” Bakugo barked.

“Classic Bakugo,” Sero said, “Hey, let’s have sushi together and catch up!” Kaminari, Sero, and Bakugo followed into the restaurant. Kirishima stood behind looking into the distance to see if he could find (Y/N), then followed his friends.

I was in my apartment doing some chores, talking to the cat, then I looked over to my sword. My hero sword had a white glow to it. The glow would only ignite with my quirk when I was in battle at full strength. Should I go back to the states or should I get my hero license here? There was a knock at my door.

“Kirishima,” I said opening the door.

“Hey, mind if I come in,” he asked. There was a silence between us. I offered some tea, he accepted. “I’m not mad at you,” he began, “You had to hold back because you were told to, but you had the bravery to help me and Bakugo defeat the villains. I admire your heart. You’re selfless, kind, and will come to anyone’s aid with your quirk. I just want to see you battle,” he hardened his arms.

“Wh—what?” I said.

“Don’t hold back. I’m pretty resilient,” he said. I aimed for his weak points in his body, specifically his legs to disorient him. I tried to go easy on him at first, but he noticed I was going for his weak points. So I stepped up a little. I created a distraction, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through, attempting to break his arm. Next, the abdomen. There is a weak point in the abdomen near the leg. It is an artery that is crucial for blood flow to your legs as well as the inguinal canal, which is larger in men to hurt more. I hit that area and he flinched, but it wasn’t enough. I held him in a chloroform hold, then he became vulnerable. He tapped out and I let go of him, both of us out of breath. He laughed as he caught his breath. “Man, you know how to fight. If only Bakugo was here to watch.”

“Why did you want him to watch,” I laughed.

“I want you to train with us at our agency so you can have a Japan hero license,” he said. My breath was taken away.

“You—you want me to stay here,” I said.

“Well other than getting to know you more, I think you would be a good addition to our team. You’re great defensively and offensively—”

“Kirishima, I have a sword,” I hesitated.

“A sword? Like a battle weapon?” he asked. I grabbed my sword in its case and asked him to follow me. I brought Kirishima to my secret hideout. “I want to make sure that I was as strong as when I left to keep up my strength, so I come here, to this cage,” I said. I enter the cage and take my sword out of the scabbard. Kirishima follows behind me. “For your safety, I suggest staying out so I can show you my potential.” He closes the cage door behind him as he watches me. I concentrate to my full strength and the sword turns into a white glow. “TIME PERCEPTION,” I scream internally. I slash through the objects around me at lightening speed. Almost as if I did it in a blink. I breathe heavy for a little bit as I put away my sword and the top halves of the objects fall.

“Whoa,” Kirishima had his jaw dropped. “That’s amazing! So your sword can slash through things at high speed?”

“Not exactly. It pokes holes in quirks. Time is very fragile and one accidental, wrong move could lead to my advantage. That’s how I defeat villains. For example, if the villain has a fire quirk, my sword can diminish the oxygen in the flames before gets worse,” I said.

“I’m recruiting you whether you like it or not,” he said. I laughed and we both went back up to my apartment.

I started making some dinner. “Whatcha making,” Kirishima said. “I was going to make a stir-fry, unless you want something different.”

“No, sounds great,” he smiled. He watched me cook the meal for the both of us. I light some candles and he set the table. We exchanged smiles when the other looked away. I presented the stir-fry with some rice, proteins, and vegetables. “Thank you for dinner, this smells amazing,” he smiled. We filled our tummies as we laughed in conversation. I cleaned off the table, sat on the countertop, and closed my eyes. “Whatcha thinking about,” he asked.

“I want to save and protect people again,” I sighed.

“You will and I’ll be right by your side,” he smiled. He got in between my legs, cupped my face, and planted a sweet, soft kiss. We smile at each other, then Kirishima got a call.

“I gotta go to the agency. I think this would be the time to show Bakugo your sword,” he smirked.