#that's what i want to feel when i watch wrestling: this is totally exaggerated and obviously fake and it is also real at the same time

[mrfunnyinthebank]

Jacob Fatu as True Tribal Chief Solo Sikoa's primary enforcer was so awesome

the "I LOVE YOU SOLO!" catchphrase hit crazy because not only does the Samoan Werewolf love his Tribal Chief but the masterful method actor Jacob Fatu loves his cousin so it's fake but it's also real

[apteryxparvus]

your ‘just a little bit’ suspicious roommate

Pairing — Jiaoqiu / Reader

Word count — 5,191

Content warning — drinking • Astral Express shenanigans

Summary — You’re just trying to survive university life. Your new roommate? Definitely not a vampire. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself���until a drunken, accidental makeout session definitely confirms some suspicions.

Now, you’ve got to explain everything to your friends... who are definitely not going to let it go.

"As we all know, garlic is a well-known vampire repellent," March rambles, her finger waving dramatically at the screen, the laser pointer dancing over a grainy image of garlic. "And as we've discussed before, your smoking hot but totally shady roommate, has yet to touch the stuff—evidence number... what, four? Five? But regardless, this undeniable truth, along with everything else we've gathered so far, solidifies our theory."

"And with that," Stelle chimes in, crossing her arms with a smug grin, "our TED Talk has officially concluded."

"Here are our references," Caelus says with exaggerated politeness, as he presents a final slide filled with sources no one’s going to actually check.

You stare at the screen, watching the poorly edited image of Dracula with pink hair and yellow eyes—somehow eerily resembling your roommate. You blink a couple of times, unsure whether to laugh or question your life choices.

“First of all, the fandom wiki page for Count Chocula is not a proper source,” Dan Heng says, voice flat. "Second of all—no. Just no. Now, can we please go back to the movie? You know, the one that doesn’t involve… whatever this is?"

"I can't believe none of you care about this!" March exclaims, throwing her arms up in frustration. “Our dearest friend is living with a bloodsucker!”

You roll your eyes, digging further into the pile of blankets you're buried under, one hand grabbing buttery popcorn from the bowl. "I don’t care. I just want to see how the movie ends."

"The ending isn't that interesting anyway," Caelus says. "The family’s all dead. They’ve been dead the whole time."

"Caelus!" you shriek, leaping out of your seat. Popcorn explodes into the air, scattering across the couch and floor. Dan Heng groans, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Without hesitation, you lunge at Caelus, who barely flinches as you grab a fistful of his hair and give it a solid yank. "You cannot just spoil a movie like that, you absolute moron!"

"Ow, hey—it's a classic twist, not my fault you’re slow—"

"Get off him, you heathen!" Stelle rushes to the rescue, only for you to snap at her hand like an angry feral cat when she tries to pry you off her twin. "Did you just—did you bite me?!"

Moments later, the three of you are a tangled heap on the floor—Stelle trying to wrestle you off Caelus, you stubbornly clinging to his hair, and Caelus, smirking like he’s above it all despite being squished under your combined weight.

"Am I interrupting something?" The voice is smooth, sultry. You freeze mid-pinch.

Jiaoqiu is standing in the entryway, leaning casually against the doorframe that divides the open kitchen from the living room, his expression an elegant mix of bemusement and mild confusion.

"No! No, absolutely not!" you blurt, untangling yourself with record-breaking speed and shoving Caelus aside. Scrambling upright, you snatch the remote from March and begin button-mashing like your life depends on it. The TV stubbornly scrolls through several slides until one final image—the ridiculous Dracula with suspiciously pink hair and honey-colored eyes—flashes on the screen.

You freeze. The room freezes.

Jiaoqiu arches a single perfect eyebrow, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smirk. "Interesting taste in… presentations."

You can feel your soul actively trying to leave your body. "It’s just… uh…" You scramble for an excuse, words tumbling out in a panicked jumble. "March! March really wanted to, uh, dive into the intricacies of garlic and Dracula! For—um—for some very important in-depth cultural research!"

Stelle chokes on her soda, snorting audibly. "Oh, absolutely. Garlic research. Very academic."

You whip around to glare at her, betrayal etched into every fiber of your being. "Stelle."

She just shrugs. "What? I’m backing you up."

"Yeah, real convincing. You’re totally selling it," March wheezes, barely holding back another laugh.

Jiaoqiu clears his throat. "Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your… research.” His tone is polite, barely concealing his amusement. "I have some client work to finish, so I’ll be in my room. Have fun."

He turns to leave, his footsteps unhurried, but just before he disappears down the hall, he glances over his shoulder. His golden gaze locks with yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. "By the way," he adds smoothly, "that Dracula edit? A striking resemblance."

Your face burns hotter than the sun as he strolls away, leaving you mortified and very much on the verge of curling into a ball forever.

You bury your face in the nearest blanket, muffling a loud, frustrated groan. March leans over, whispering, "So… about that garlic test..."

The morning after, once your friends have cleared out—leaving behind only the faint smell of coffee and a suspiciously large pile of crumbs—you find yourself at the sink, scrubbing the last of the dishes. The kitchen is quiet now, save for the gentle clink of ceramic against metal.

You’re rinsing the final mug when Jiaoqiu steps out of his room. You don’t hear his footsteps— he’s always freakishly quiet—so when his raspy morning voice cuts through the silence, you nearly drop the mug into the soapy abyss.

"Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

You whirl around, and suddenly, all those memories from last night come rushing back—March’s presentation, and, most importantly, the fact that he saw it.

Your face heats up. Your neck burns.

You manage to croak out a greeting—something between a “good morning” and a choking sound—but the words trail off as you take him in.

Jiaoqiu has always looked unfairly good—but right now, it feels almost absurd. In the soft morning light, he’s effortlessly flawless, like he just walked off the cover of some magazine. His pale skin practically glows under the sunlight. His hair, messy from sleep, somehow falls perfectly into place, and his golden eyes catch the light, sharp and vivid, drawing attention without trying.

“I assume you had a good time last night,” he says, suddenly right next to you, voice teasing.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Sorry if we were too loud,” you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s alright,” he replies. “This apartment is as much yours as it is mine. Here, let me help finish this faster.” Without waiting for a reply, Jiaoqiu grabs a dish towel and starts drying the remaining mugs. The two of you work in a comfortable silence, the clink of the dishes the only sound between you.

When you’re done, you wipe your hands on a towel and turn to him. “We made some Songlotus cake. You just woke up, so feel free to grab some. And there’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

He gives you a small nod, eyes soft. “Thanks.”

What you definitely don’t mention is that March—with Caelus acting like her evil mastermind sidekick—turned a few of the crispy cakes into garlic landmines. Powdered, minced, pureed—she threw in every form of garlic known to mankind, probably hoping Jiaoqiu would take one bite, and dramatically burst into flames. Or, at the very least, recoil like someone slapped him with holy water.

After pouring himself a cup of dark coffee, Jiaoqiu sits down at the table. He takes a slow sip, golden eyes flicking to the leftover cakes in the middle of the table. In your peripheral vision, you watch him reach out for one, holding your breath as he picks it up. He inspects it, almost as if he’s solving a particularly tricky puzzle. He sniffs the air, and your stomach drops—does he smell the garlic?

(You’re pretty sure March and Caelus tried to mask the scent with an absolute overkill of vanilla extract. Or was it almond extract? You don't know, and frankly, you don’t want to know. But what you do know, it was probably a huge mistake, all of this.)

Jiaoqiu doesn’t seem alarmed. Maybe he trusts that your friends wouldn’t sabotage baked goods, or maybe he’s just so committed to his side-job as a nutritionist that he refuses to waste a perfectly good breakfast. Either way, he takes a bite.

You pretend to be extremely invested in wiping down the counter, sneaking glances from the corner of your eye.

And then it happens.

Jiaoqiu freezes mid-chew. A split second later, he’s coughing and his eyes are watering, as if someone blasted him with a full can of pepper spray. Wheezes echo through the kitchen as he struggles to swallow. With the last of his dignity the can muster (not that much, by the way), he takes a massive gulp of his coffee, his expression somewhere between betrayed and horrified.

“You and your friends… seem to have… interesting taste in food, as well,” Jiaoqiu manages to rasp out between coughs, his voice strained. You shrink where you stand, guilt simmering beneath your skin. Was March right in her theory? Or perhaps, did you take things too far?

Awkwardly, you step closer and give Jiaoqiu’s back a light pat, cringing at your own inadequacy. The man is choking on a crime against baking, and all you can do is offer this sad little pat. Internally cursing your friends, you grab one of the cakes and take a small, cautious bite to see if they’re really that bad.

And oh. Oh no. You immediately regret it. The flavor assaults your senses with all the subtlety of a brick to the face. It’s salty, sweet, sour, and umami all at once—a culinary abomination that defies all natural laws. 

You gag as minced garlic chunks battle for dominance against unmelted sugar granules, creating a texture so horrifying you nearly spit it out on the spot.

You can’t believe you made Jiaoqiu eat this. All because your friends had convinced you he might be a vampire. A vampire. And for a split second just now, you’d actually believed them. Why? Because he choked on the garlic cake? Anyone with a functioning palate would choke on this monstrosity.

"Shit—I'm sorry." Without a second thought, you snatch the plate of cakes and chuck it straight into the trash, refusing to even look at it. You’re already composing a furious text to March in your head—because if you’d taken a bigger bite, there’s a very real chance you’d have keeled over on the spot. "I can make you something better," you offer hurriedly. But Jiaoqiu just waves a hand, his expression tired, his face somehow even paler than usual.

"Can you pass me the medicine bottle from the fridge?" You nod quickly, opening the fridge to reveal a shelf lined with identical small vials, each filled with a thick red liquid. You grab one and hand it over.

"I think I’ll take this in my room," Jiaoqiu says, holding the small vial as he turns toward the hallway.

"I’m sorry for ruining your morning," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, hot and unwelcome.

"It’s—" Jiaoqiu pauses, his expression softening just enough to ease the weight on your chest. "It’s alright." He reaches out and pats your head gently, ruffling your hair. "I’ll be fine."

The sun is dipping below the horizon by the time you return from a grueling day at university. Between March’s relentless pestering—complete with even more outlandish theories—and the soul-crushingly dull lectures from your professors, all you want to do is crawl into bed and hibernate until the semester ends. Unfortunately, that’s not an option. Three assignments loom over you, their deadlines inching closer.

The apartment is eerily quiet, but Jiaoqiu’s shoes are neatly lined up by the entryway. The guilt from this morning rears its head again. Is he still locked up in his room, recovering from the monstrosity of a cake you let him eat? You shake the thought away. No spiraling, no distractions. Tonight is for coursework.

With a tired sigh, you settle on the carpeted floor of the living room, leaning your back against the couch and setting your laptop on the low coffee table. The university’s digital platform greets you—an overwhelming grid of assignments and unread announcements. You skim through the options, settling on what seems like the easiest one: “Cultural Analysis: Xianzhou Alliance and the Legacy of the Abundance Wars.”

You plug in your earbuds, selecting a relaxing playlist, and settle into the task at hand. Hours slip by without you even noticing. The topic—the Third Abundance War—seems endless, each paper you open just a little more confusing or irrelevant than the last. You only get up once to restock on energy drinks and snacks, fueling yourself for what feels like a marathon of academic misery.

Groaning, you slam your laptop shut after yet another fruitless attempt to find a decent source. The deeper you dive into the history of the Xianzhou Alliance, the more it seems like you’re wading through layers of conspiracy theories and folklore instead of actual research. Despite the importance of the topic in Xianzhou history, finding proper sources seems impossible.

The amount of nonsense you’ve had to close—websites dedicated to the monstrous Borisin creatures, the mystical Foxians, and other equally questionable topics—is ridiculous. You’re pretty sure if you handed in a literature review about that nonsense, not only would you be the laughing stock of the class, but you’d be expelled on the spot. 

They're just legends, and there’s nothing scientifically sound to back them up. But here you are, wading through a swamp of unreliable sources, praying for anything that remotely resembles actual history.

A hand suddenly pats your head, and you nearly jump out of your skin, heart leaping into your throat. You yank your earbuds out, startled, only to find Jiaoqiu grinning at you, looking far too pleased with himself.

"You scared me," you grumble, swatting his hand away. 

You take a second to really look at him. He seems better now—the sickly paleness from earlier has faded, replaced by a touch of color in his cheeks. His golden eyes are bright again, brimming with that quiet amusement that always makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

"Were you working on something?" he asks, leaning towards you, his curiosity piqued.

You nod, slumping slightly as you glance at the time. "A stupid assignment... due in—" you squint at the clock, the reality sinking in, "—in two hours and a bit." You let out a long, defeated sigh. You’re done for. There’s no way you’re getting this paper done in time. No proper sources, no coherent thoughts, and you’re still a million words short of the required word count. You're cooked, completely and utterly cooked.

"What is it about?" Jiaoqiu asks, settling down beside you on the floor, his presence warm and close.

His proximity catches you off guard. The faint scent of jasmine fabric softener lingers on him, mingling with something subtler, something metallic that you can’t quite place. It’s faint but distinct, enough to draw your focus for a moment. You shake it off and try to redirect your attention to your laptop.

An idea suddenly strikes you, and you swivel your head toward Jiaoqiu—only to freeze when you actually realize how close he is. Your faces are mere inches apart, close enough that you can make out every flicker of gold in his irises.

“You’re a Xianzhou native,” you blurt, your voice rushing to fill the sudden silence. “Any chance you know something about the Third Abundance War? Because I’ve been wracking my brain trying to find proper sources, and—well, I’m sure you can see how that’s going.”

“Let me see,” he says, reaching over to take your laptop. You freeze, a wave of secondhand embarrassment crashing over you as the screen comes to life.

It is utter chaos—over fifty tabs open, grouped and color-coded in a system that only makes sense to you, with labels ranging from “Decent Source” to “Probably Fiction” to “Absolute Nonsense, but Fun.”

He clicks on your assignment draft, and your soul momentarily leaves your body. A grand total of 400 words stares back at you—two solid citations, a lot of filler, and way too many angry swear words sandwiched between half-baked sentences.

He spends a few minutes reading through your draft, face scrunched up in concentration. Every now and then, he clicks his tongue or tilts his head, eyes lingering on certain sentences for far longer than you’d like.

“It could use some work,” he says finally, in a tone far too gentle for the absolute travesty he’s just witnessed. Some work, he says, as if it doesn’t need to be exorcised and erased from existence. You’re too terrified to reread any of it yourself, unsure of what kind of unhinged caffeine-fueled nonsense your brain had conjured.

“Yeah, no. Better to start fresh,” you mumble, already highlighting and deleting the entire document before he can respond. You refuse to meet his gaze, staring intently at the now blank page, fingers hovering nervously over the keyboard like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime.

 “Perhaps you could focus on the Lux Arrow?” Jiaoqiu suggests scrolling through a couple of tabs.

You frown, tilting your head at him. “Lan’s Sky-Shattering Lux Arrow? Isn’t that just a myth?” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself. You’d stumbled across mentions of it earlier—both in academic papers and in… less-than-reliable historical mythology blogs. From what you’d managed to piece together, it was either a groundbreaking piece of artillery technology that changed the tides of the war or an overblown legend with zero basis in reality.

“I can suggest some sources,” Jiaoqiu offers. His fingers swiftly fly across the keyboard before he pauses, scrolling through a list of results. “Here,” he says, pointing at the screen.

You lean in to get a better look. It’s a book by Zongguang, a renowned cultural anthropologist from The Xianzhou Luofu’s Grand Virtue Academy. The title alone makes your brain hurt with how dense it sounds, but it has piqued your interest, nonetheless. You’ve studied several of Zongguang’s papers throughout your courses in Xianzhou history, though you’ve never even heard of this specific book.

“It has firsthand accounts from the last battlefield,” Jiaoqiu explains, scrolling through the summary, “and covers topics like the Borisin and the Merlin’s Claw—though back then, General Feixiao was simply called Saran.”

“Wait, seriously? I thought the Borisin stuff was mostly folklore.”

“Perhaps some of it is,” your roommate replies, but there’s a shift in his tone. It’s subtle, but you catch it—the way his voice dips, the way his words slow just slightly. There’s something heavy there, almost like... anger? It’s faint, but unmistakable; and it seems to sharpen when he mentions the Lycan beasts.

You blink, caught off guard by the change. “You okay?”

Jiaoqiu’s eyes flick away from the screen, his features smoothing out like nothing happened. “I’m fine,” he says, voice calm again. “Just... the Borisin aren’t mere legends to everyone. Their methods were brutal, and their impact left scars—literal and otherwise.”

There’s something in his words that makes you pause, like the weight of them belongs to someone who was there. Which is ridiculous, obviously, because he couldn’t have been. Right?

"Alright, March, I’m not saying I believe you," you start, lying sprawled out on Stelle's plush carpet with a giant teddy bear clenched tightly to your chest. You stare blankly at the ceiling, the words barely forming in your head before spilling out. "But something strange happened, and I cannot explain it to myself."

“Oh?” March and Caelus call out at the same time from over by the fridge. You turn your head, and you’re momentarily at a loss for words. March is busy scooping homemade ice cream into bowls, while Caelus... well, Caelus is sniffing and biting into a jade-colored cloth like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You shake your head, deciding to ignore his antics. At this point, you've seen stranger things.

"Tell us!" Stelle pipes up. Meanwhile, Dan Heng is across the room, calmly trying to wrestle the cloth out of Caelus’s grip without much success.

Maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe you’re grasping at straws.

“You know that assignment on cultural analysis of the Xianzhou wars?” you finally say, sitting up to better face your friends. "I was having trouble coming up with a good topic and finding sources, so I asked Jiaoqiu for help."

"Go on," March says.

"I mean, I asked him because he’s a native, right? But it’s weird—he knows way more than I thought. And—"

“What’s weird about him knowing history?” Dan Heng interrupts, looking up from where he’s now holding a defeated-looking Caelus. March swats him, shushing him with a glare.

“It’s just—he wasn’t just talking about history. It was like he was living it," you continue, pulling your knees up to your chest. "When he mentioned Borisin, he completely changed. He looked... upset, like he was actively repressing anger."

“Borisin might just be a myth, same as the Vidyadhara," Dan Heng replies, shrugging. "But some people are passionate about their cultural history. Maybe Jiaoqiu is one of them."

“Sure, Dan Heng, but his recounts were too elaborate,” you argue. "It didn’t sound like some history buff talking—it sounded like he was remembering it. And when he talked about General Feixiao, it wasn’t like he was describing a famous figure from history. It was like... like he was talking about a close friend!"

“Oh, my Aeons,” March gushes, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. “So do you think he used to be a warrior in the war? Like, was Jiaoqiu out there with a sword, fighting Borisin and stuff?!”

“March,” you deadpan, “that’s literally insane. He’d have to be hundreds of years old for that to even make sense.”

“And?” she counters, completely unfazed.

You open your mouth to argue, but honestly, what’s the point? Logic has never been March’s strong suit, and you’re too tired to debate with someone who just last week tried to convince you she saw a Vidyadhara in the campus library.

“I’m just saying,” she continues. “It’s not that far-fetched. Maybe he was in the war. Maybe he’s like a retired general or medic or something. Or—or maybe he’s secretly General Feixiao! Wouldn’t that be wild?”

“March.” Dan Heng’s voice cuts through her growing enthusiasm. “Stop filling their head with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense! It’s a totally plausible theory!” she protests, crossing her arms. “Right, Stelle?”

“I mean... it would explain why he knew so much, right?”

You groan, burying your face in the teddy bear. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Too late,” March says, grinning wickedly. “We’re already planning the movie adaptation. I’m thinking: Jiaoqiu—secret immortal of Xianzhou, haunted by his dark past. Directed by me, obviously.”

You groan even louder.

You’re staring at the Google Doc sent in the group chat, eyes glazed over. The words blur together, swimming in and out of focus. Caelus and Stelle had relentlessly begged you to try and outdrink them—and you never back out from a challenge. But now, as you stumble home with your phone clutched in your hand, you're definitely regretting your choice.

Your head swims as you fumble with your phone, squinting at the document like it’s written in a foreign language. The room spins, and you find yourself swaying slightly, leaning against the doorframe for support.

The title stands out, bold and impossible to ignore:

March 7th’s top secret investigation protocol 🔍🔴

You blink. Twice. Slowly.

It’s time to face the facts. Your roommate is 100% a vampire. I don’t even know why we’re having this discussion. I’ve been observing for weeks (because, duh, I’m a professional), and the evidence is everywhere. I’m not saying this lightly, but, I’ve seen enough weird stuff to know. And the guy’s practically a walking, talking vampire stereotype. Here’s the definitive checklist. Foolproof.

The headache pounding in your skull intensifies as you scroll down to March’s “definitive” checklist:

Aversion to garlic ✅ Gagged at the garlic cakes. Suspicious. Dietary restrictions ✅ Weird-looking "medicine" in the fridge. Super normal. Definitely not vampire-y. Listen, I’ve seen blood. It’s the same color. Supernatural senses ✅ Remember that time he overheard us talking about him from the other side of the house? Yeah. Explain that. Remembers super old stuff ✅ Talks about the Abundance Wars like he fought in them. “Good times,” he said. GOOD TIMES.

You’re about to scroll past, when your gaze lingers on the final item:

Vampire canines? 🚨 Priority check!!! Report ASAP.

Your half-drunken brain latches onto the challenge. You stumble into your apartment, shoes clattering noisily to the floor, and head straight for Jiaoqiu’s room. 

Logic? Gone. Boundaries? Absolutely not. 

Fueled by a potent cocktail of curiosity, adrenaline, and alcohol, you throw open his door without a second thought.

You don’t bother knocking. You just slam the door open, the hinges creaking in protest. Inside, Jiaoqiu is sitting on his bed, casually flipping through a book. His eyes flick up at the sound of the door, but there’s no surprise, no alarm. He doesn’t even flinch. It’s like he knew you were going to barge in, unannounced, with no warning whatsoever.

He closes the book with an exaggerated sigh. "Something I can help you with?"

“I need to check something,” you announce, voice wobbling as you stumble over to him. Without waiting for a response, you drop onto the bed beside him, far too close, and lean in.

His brows raise in amusement. “Do you, now?”

“Yeah,” you slur. “Your teeth. Lemme see ’em.”

“My teeth?”

“Yes.” Your hand wavers near his face, trembling slightly as you poke at his cheek. “The canines. Open your mouth.”

He doesn’t stop you. If anything, his grin widens, and he leans in just enough to make your heart skip. “You think you’ll find something interesting?”

“I know I will,” you murmur, your drunken determination unwavering. Your thumb brushes against the edge of his lips, and you swear you see his eyes darken.

His mouth parts slightly, and you squint, leaning closer—a bit too close, perhaps. Your eyes zero in on his teeth, scanning for anything remotely sharp or suspicious. And then you see them.

The soft light catches just right, revealing a pair of faintly elongated canines, sharp and glinting like tiny daggers.

Your breath catches. “No way,” you whisper.

Before you can respond—or think—your hand moves on its own, fingers brushing against his teeth. His smirk deepens, and he leans into your touch. Then, without warning, his mouth closes gently around your fingertip. It’s deliberate, teasing, and before you can pull away, you feel it—a quick, sharp prick. You yelp, jerking your hand back, staring at the tiny bead of blood pooling on your skin.

Jiaoqiu watches you, unbothered, his gaze steady as he slowly licks his lips. “Interesting,” he murmurs, his tone almost lazy.

Your head spins. You stare at your finger, then at him, then back at your finger. “You—you bit me,” you stammer.

“Did I?” His smirk sharpens, his fangs catching the light again.

“I—I knew it!” you shriek.

“And now what?” He tilts his head. “Does your little investigation end here, or…?”

You don’t think. You lean in before you can think better of it, your lips crashing against his in a messy, impulsive kiss. The faint taste of blood lingers between you, but you don’t care.

When you finally pull back, gasping for air, there’s blood on his lips—your blood. He licks it away lazily.

“Well?” he asks, his voice low and teasing. “Satisfied?”

You’re definitely putting a checkmark on March’s last list item.

But that’s a problem for future you. For now, you dive back in, ignoring the faint sting on your lips and the little voice in your head screaming that this is a terrible idea.

"Thanks for inviting us," March gleefully says, her voice full of her usual energy. The whole group is sitting around your dining table, chatting and eating.

Jiaoqiu nods casually, his demeanor as composed as ever. "Of course," he replies smoothly. "It’s important to get to know my partner’s friends better. I’ve seen you all around, but it’s nice to connect properly.”

You nearly choke on your drink at the casual mention of “partner”. But Jiaoqiu doesn’t even glance your way, his expression unreadable as he takes a sip of his own drink.

March is the first to react. Her fork clatters against her empty plate as her head snaps up. "Partner?"

Stelle and Caelus exchange a knowing glance, trying and failing to hide their smirks. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh, as though he can already see where this is heading.

March leans forward, elbows on the table. "Did I miss an announcement? Since when are you two a thing?”

"You know how it is," Jiaoqiu says. "When you live with someone long enough, you get to know them better. And… sometimes things happen."

"Things? What kind of things, exactly? Spill. Now."

You bury your face in your hands with a groan. "March," you mutter, voice muffled, "please don’t."

Before March can push further, Jiaoqiu rises from his seat with a faint smile. "Excuse me for a moment," he says, gesturing toward the kitchen. "I’ll bring out the rest of the dishes."

When he returns, he sets a dish in front of March first—a well-done steak, neatly plated and still steaming. "For you," he says lightly. His own serving follows, the steak so rare it looks like it might moo if you poked it.

"Apologies if my preference for steak so rare makes anyone uncomfortable," Jiaoqiu says, his golden eyes flicking briefly to March. "I just can’t resist the flavor. There’s something… primal about it."

March freezes. Her expression wavers for just a moment before she forces a tight-lipped smile. You can practically hear the wheels turning in her head as she remembers her checklist.

You shoot him a glare, mouthing, Why are you like this? He simply raises an eyebrow, as if to say, Because it’s fun.

March clears her throat, clearly trying to regain her composure. "You know," she says shakily. "you’re awfully… specific about your preferences."

"Not everyone enjoys their food well done," your roommate-turned-boyfriend adds casually. "Sometimes, a little blood adds that extra something."

A groan threatens to escape you, but you manage to hold it in. "Guys," you mutter, sinking deeper into your chair. "Please, don’t even start."

March swallows, eyes darting between you and Jiaoqiu. Her lips part, but no words come out, just a breath of disbelief.

Jiaoqiu, however, seems completely unfazed. “Cravings, preferences... they’re just part of who you are, aren’t they? No point in pretending they don’t exist." He continues to eat, taking another slow bite of his steak, his smile creeping wider as he watches her, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s getting.

Author's note: i wrote some of this while procrastinating a lab report awhile back, and the amount of revision i had to do because the fic started sounding like a full-blown research paper... yikes 🤧🤧

but yes, here’s my silly attempt at humor. now, if you'll excuse me, i’ll go cry about my resit tomorrow and hope the universe decides to take pity on me and let me pass

[flipppyflopp]

“This museum is celebrating its 100th anniversary? Wonder if there will be any pictures of me during its 200th anniversary.” 🎉✨

Happy birthday to my twst oc, Finn Lyder! I wanted to celebrate by doing my own spin on the Platinum Suit cards, so I decided to have Finn carrying a tray of candy apples since none of the other Pomefiore Platinum Suit cards include a snack. Then I let people over on Instagram vote for Finn’s duo partner and they all chose Sebek (which is a perfect pick since they are both in the Equestrian Club), so I included a doodle of what Sebek would give him for his birthday.

Below is a vignette I wrote for Finn and Sebek in the style of the other Platinum Suit cards, so feel free to read it below! Enjoy!

Platinum Suit template by @fumikomiyasaki

Finn’s Platinum Suit Vignette

Finn: This place just keeps going and going. I think there can’t be another floor and then there’s another set of stairs waiting for me. I’m tired of climbing stairs, let’s see what we’ve got on this floor.

Finn: Oh! A picture of the raven that served the Fairest Queen. What a loyal sidekick to have at her beck and call, makes me want one of my own.

???: Who’d want to serve as your sidekick?

Finn: Speaking of sidekicks, looks like I stumbled into one of Malleus’s sidekicks.

Sebek: Excuse you, human! I am not Lord Malleus’s sidekick. I am his loyal knight ready to protect him at a moment’s notice.

Finn: Geez, is there really a difference?

Sebek: What was that!?

Finn: Nothing! Just admiring how this painting captures the likeness of the Fairest Queen’s loyal servant.

Sebek: Really? How so?

Finn: This raven would fly to the Queen’s side no matter where she was or the time of day. He would also bring her ingredients from all over the world for her potions. Talk about total loyalty.

Sebek: How commendable. Going above and beyond should be the goal of any servant if they truly wish to stand proudly at their liege’s side.

Finn: Makes me want my own loyal companion. Imagine all that I could accomplish.

Sebek: What animal companion would you seek to aid you?

Finn: Hmm. I’ve always wanted a trusty steed…but…

Sebek: Ha! That’s a bold comment considering your performance in the Equestrian Club!

Finn: Hey, I do just fine!

Sebek: Your horse, Minimus, hardly listens to your whims. Often he is leading you around and through the courses.

Finn: I think you’re just exaggerating-

Sebek: Just the other day, you tried to lead Minimus through the mud and he kicked you into it. Then you tried to wrestle him into it as well. Riddle was ready to have both of your heads.

Finn: Don’t remind me. I had to clean the whole stables by myself, which took forever.

Sebek: Maybe you’re more cut out to be Minimus’s sidekick.

Finn: What?! Don’t be ridiculous! Me? A sidekick for a horse?

Finn: One day Minimus and I will be the best duo there ever was! Just you watch!

Sebek: Now here’s a painting I recognize. This is the rabbit known for his punctuality according to Deuce’s anecdotes about his hometown.

Finn: Yeah the White Rabbit was always in a rush from place to place. He worked hard to always be on time and do his duty. I don’t know how he did it.

Sebek: Oh, do you have trouble with tardiness, Finn?

Finn: Most days no, but occasionally I do oversleep.

Sebek: How many detentions have you received this year?

Finn: None.

Sebek: None!? That’s not possible if you’ve been late to class!

Finn: Watch the volume! Geez…I have a secret to not getting any detentions or tardies.

Sebek: Really? What is it?

Finn: Parkour.

Sebek: What!? How does that safeguard you from detentions?

Finn: Let’s take last week for example. I overslept because I stayed up to study for a big exam in Alchemy. I’m sure you already know that Crewel is unforgiving of tardiness, so I knew I would receive an automatic fail if I showed up late for oversleeping.

Sebek: He is ruthless when it comes to punctuality.

Finn: So I had to make it to the third floor and I was right in front of the main staircase; however, I encountered an obstacle.

Sebek: Which was?

Finn: Professor Crewel himself.

Sebek: What a grim predicament to be in.

Finn: Exactly. Crewel smirked and began heading up the stairs. Obviously if I wanted to beat him to class I’d have to sprint by him, which would give me a detention and I’d still be late. Instead, I took off into the courtyard. From there I took a running start and swung up onto the nearby archway. I quickly scaled the siding and used a column on the side of the school to climb my way up to the third floor. I jumped from window to window until I made my way to where the Alchemy lab would be on the third floor.

Sebek: What physical prowess! But you still haven’t gotten into the lab.

Finn: Well from there it was down to luck because the person sitting in front of the window was none other than Silver. I quickly tapped on the window and luckily, he turned around and let me in. Then I shut the window and slid into my seat just as Crewel walked in. I wish you could have seen the look on his face. He was so mad, but he couldn’t fault me because I was in my seat before he arrived. So that, Sebek, is how parkour has saved me from getting detentions.

Sebek: I can’t say I approve of you besmirching the school grounds, but I can commend your physical capabilities as not everyone is capable of such feats.

Finn: I would besmirch the school grounds again and again if it means I don’t besmirch my attendance record. Vil would never let me live it down if I couldn’t make it to class on time.

Finn: Oh, I recognize this painting. I used to love this story as a kid.

Sebek: Really? I’m not familiar with this piece.

Finn: This shows the demigod at the end of his journey to become a hero. He had been adopted by a loving couple, but he set out to find his real family because he wanted to know where he came from and where he belonged. At the end of his journey he realized that it didn’t matter who his family was because he had found where he belonged, with those who helped him along the way.

Sebek: What a touching tale. Is it a story your parents read to you as a child?

Finn: No, I grew up in an orphanage. I never knew my parents.

Sebek: I apologize for my carelessness! I shouldn’t have asked something so thoughtlessly-

Finn: It’s really fine Sebek, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t really care to know who my parents are or who they were. I’m me and that’s what matters.

Sebek: Really? You have no need to satiate a curiosity to know your past?

Finn: Yep. Besides, if I didn’t grow up in the orphanage, I wouldn’t have met so many interesting people. I always had plenty of kids to play with, not to mention I got to hear all kinds of stories.

Sebek: I suppose you would get to meet people from all over Twisted Wonderland.

Finn: Yeah, there was never a dull moment back at home. If I didn’t grow up there, then I never would’ve known all those kids.

Sebek: Huh, what a positive outlook to have.

Finn: Of course that’s just how I see it. There are different perspectives and of course things weren’t perfect as they were, but I was happy, and that’s what really counts. I had a place where I belonged.

Sebek: A place to belong…

Finn: But I won’t be going back there after I graduate. I probably won’t ever go back.

Sebek: Bwah!? Why not if you think on it so fondly?

Finn: There’s nothing left for me there as most kids come and go very quickly, so the ones I know won’t even be there anymore. Besides, my eyes are on the future now! Twisted Wonderland’s a big place and I’ve got tons I want to see.

Sebek: Really? Where’s one place you’d want to go to?

Finn: How about…Briar Valley? With you serving as my personal tour guide!

Sebek: What!? How dare you boldly assume I’d serve as a guide for you, human!

Finn: Come on, we’re club mates, not to mention I’m your upperclassman.

Sebek: I won’t allow you to persuade me so easily!

Finn: Really? Then I’ll just go ask Silver and he’ll say yes.

Sebek: Huh?

Finn: There’s no way he’d turn me down, he’s such a nice guy. Thanks for hanging out, see you later Sebek!

Sebek: Wait! Don’t think I’ll let this drop so easily, Finn!

[lalaangeldust]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

[ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ] : none :)

[ 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ] : kaminari denki // bakugo katsuki // sero hanta

𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢

ah yes, the bakusquad's resident pretty boy

he would definitely be the most obvious about his crush

two words: shitty flirting

horrible pick-up lines and just overall bad flirting

he pulls through sometimes though ( with sero's advice ) and his ego inflates through the roof if he can get you flustered and blushing

but if you give him the same energy, he will immediately combust

all function out the window

congratulations, you broke denki

none of your possessions are safe when denki is within the vicinity

shirts, hoodies, skirts, hats, jewelry, hair accessories

if he can grab it, he will have it

he has worn / stolen everything in your closet at least once, if not it is most definitely his goal

it does not matter if he fits it or not, he will make it work

he has no shame

but one time he stretched out one of your favorite skirts and it tore a bit and he felt soooo bad

"it not my fault i have a fat ass, y/n"

but he brought you to the mall on a date with him to get a new one, so it's all works out ;)

denki honestly just lives to make you laugh

every time he's the reason you're laughing, it makes his chest puff up so big

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON MF TICKLING

if you two are close, he will without a doubt start a mock wrestling match and it always turns into a tickling fit with you pinned underneath him and wailing

but do NOT under any circumstances tickle him

he with shriek like a girl and accidentally activate his quirk

you nearly died

HE FELT BAD FOR THAT TOO

he's also just so infatuated with like- everything you do????

it doesn't matter how mundane you think it might be, as long as you're doing it, denki is so enthralled watching whatever it is you're doing

it's rather endearing

in all honesty, he'd probably blurt out he likes you outta no where while in the middle of a convo

he lights up every time your name is so much as mentioned

or- or

he'd be day dreaming, completely lost in his own world and someone would come up to him and ask him what he's thinking ab cus he looks basically dead to the world

still in a daze from being abruptly brought back to reality he'd just dreamily sigh, "y/n~" without even realizing

mans was SO embarrassed afterwards

face was beet red

*frantically looks around to see if you heard him or not*

----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

physical touch // giving

words of affirmation // receiving

----------------------------------------

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢

he's so emotionally constipated

that's not to say we wouldn't know he'd have feelings for you

he's actually pretty emotionally intelligent, and would be very perceptive of your emotions contrary to popular belief, he's just oblivious to his own feelings and emotions

he'd just ignore them

try his best to ignore you

key word try

but he always gives in and he'd make up dumb reasons to come bother you like-

he'd barge into your dorm while you're studying and he'd be like

"y/n i need a pen,"

"oh? uh ok, here you can have this one," you hand him a pen that you happened to have tucked behind your ear

"no not that one,"

...????

"can't you go to momo and ask her to make the pen you want..?"

bakugo starts to get grumpy at this point lmao

"no, she doesn't know how to make it,"

"well, what pen do you want..??"

bakugo hesitates cus he doesn't wanna admit that he doesn't actually want a pen, he wants to be with you

"that one," he lamely points at a beat up tinkerbell pen that you've had since you were like twelve

"really?? out of all the pens you choose that one?"

"shut up and just get it"

"... you can grab it,"

he goes and grabs it and goes to walk out the door without a word and right before he leaves he leans back and looks at you

"i need a pencil"

"OH MY GOD BAKUGO"

he kept the tinkerbell pen btw

like denki, bakugo would steal things from your dorm and not just anything, things that are actually inconvenient to misplace

he'd take your bobby pin container or your favorite brush so you'd come to him to ask where it went, he'd give it back ofc but not without a fight

he'd act totally clueless and he'd wait till you actually start to get pissed to tell you where he actually put your thing

so back to how he'd actually be very aware of your emotions

he'd notice the smallest changes and can always tell when you're upset but he wouldn't exactly know how to help you

so instead of using words, he'd use actions

you had a really bad day and he walked you to your dorm and when he came in he's like

"shit, your dorm is a fucking disaster, how do you live like this," you scowl at bakugo cus like- wtf i'm rlly emotional here you're not helping

he scoffs and bends down to start picking up your shit

"seriously, i have no idea how you find anything in here, nothing is organized" and he'd just keeps grumbling like an old man while completely cleaning and reorganizing your room

dont you dare try and help him though, he will yell at you

-----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

acts of service // giving

quality time // receiving

-----------------------------------------

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

sero SCREAMS besfriends to lovers troupe

like- you two are already practically dating without even realizing it

the romantic tension

you guys banter and flirt with eachother so often, you both have no idea whether you're serious when you jokingly call the other sexy or not

the oblivious idiots troupe

sero makes everything a competition

not nearly to extent as bakugo would, but still goes a bit over the top

he'd use anything as an excuse to show off for you

one time, like the spiderman fanboy he is, he challenged you to see who can hang upside down the longest without passing out ( literally the stupidest idea, sero, you're going to loose braincells )

sero won, obviously and he takes full advantage of bragging rights

everyone says how denki's the flirt and whatever but NO

sero is the biggest mf flirt and denki got his game from him

so with that being said, you are not safe

HE IS A BULLY

he respects boundaries of course but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try and test his limits a bit and mess with you

he's always trying to get you flustered

god forbid you're shorter than him because he will tease the shit outta you for it

when you two train together, mf goes on overdrive ESPECIALLY if you two happen to be sparring together

he'd hover over you and lean his face in ever so slightly while your talking to him just to get a rise outta you

TILT YOUR HEAD UP WITH ONE FINGER

"could you repeat that? i'm having a hard time hearing,"

SHEEEEEEEE

but you also make fun of him for being tall, so it checks out

whenever he says some slick shit you're just like-

"I'm sorry, what? That's funny coming from someone who's above the national average height. you're disgusting, tall man; shrink perhaps" ( if anyone knows what tiktok audio i'm referencing, i'm in love with you )

hope you have your casket ready because sero's gonna slaughter your ass for that shit

ok but one time while you two were partnered up for hero training, you got on his nerves and he tied you up and left you hanging and the mf just left

maaaan were you livid

15 minutes

15 minutes you were left up there while sero was doing god knows what

you gave him the silent treatment for the rest of the day and sero was genuinely distressed cus he didn't mean to make you so mad

but lucky for him, he always knows how to get you to smile no matter how sad or are or how angry you are with him

he shoots you a piece of tape with his handwriting on it

he made up some stupid, horribly written poem asking for your forgiveness and he's just looking at you the entire time you're reading it with an exaggerated pout

how can you say mad at him?

on the topic of him sending you notes on his tape

he'd totally leave pieces of his tape in really obscure places in your dorm or even under your desk

they'd be really stupid messages too like-

"you stink"

or a really random inside joke you two have that makes literally no sense but even just the thought of it makes you laugh to tears

he'd also leave little origami figures he made with his tape in random places for you to find too

or he'd just give them to you

you have a shelf specifically dedicated for the things sero has made for you ( and he's really touched you actually keep all his shitty arts and crafts projects )

in conclusion, sero is the best and he is my favorite and i'd die for him

-----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

gift giving // giving

physical touch // giving and recieving

-----------------------------------------

If you guys want, i can elaborate on their love languages in another post! <3

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[zukkoxx]

first kiss!

w/ deku, denki, bakugo

deku🥦 a/n : n/n= nickname

deku had always respected you and your choices since the beginning of your relationship.

it had only been about a month since you started dating, and he never did anything without getting permission first.

he made sure to look at you questionably with his palm turned upward when wanting to hold your hand.

or waiting with his arms out for you to hug him instead of going in himself. 

he just really liked you and never wanted you to feel uncomfortable in the relationship.

but as the months went on and you two began to get a little closer, he couldn’t help but want to do more things with you.

he found himself staring at your lips as you talked way too many times.

resisting the urge to just dive in and place his mouth against yours at that moment.

but he would never instigate it unless he was sure you wanted to as well.

please! give him the hint!

anyways, it was friday.

you and izuku were just chilling in his dorm after a few hours of intense studying. you guys wanted to get all your school work done so you didn’t have to do anything over the weekend.

it was a pretty boring night, and you guys ended up watching a weird pro-wrestling match that just happened to be on the t.v.

“this is so fake.” you giggle, watching the exaggerated movements of the wrestlers. “there’s no way that hurt.”

“i know right. imagine if they went against anyone in our class. they’d be blown to bits!” izuku agrees

“i can’t believe people actually watch this.”

“you’re watching it. aren’t you?”

you side eye your boyfriend at his remark, and silently nudge his shoulder. “i’m right though. you seem interested too.” he teases.

“i’m only watching cause you put it on.” you poke his stomach a few times and he drawls back. “hey! no tickling!” he says, but goes to reach for the space between your shoulder and neck.

you scream, and cover your mouth so no one could hear you outside of the dorm. “please izu! stop it!” you laugh

“what was that n/n? cant hear you over all that giggling.”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” you yell, and after a few seconds, he stops the absolute torture to your neck, and you both fall onto the bed, catching your breaths.

izuku stares at you with a smile, breathing heavily.

he places a hand on your cheek, not really thinking about his actions. you pause, and follow his hand, turning your head towards him.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.”

“thank you. you’re not too bad yourself izuku” you both laugh, staring at each other.

and for a moment, izuku could see your eyes drifting down to his lips.

do something. do something

“y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now. but i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he suddenly says, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

“i doubt anything you’d say could make me uncomfortable. what is it?”

“can i...” he sighed, trying to slow his heart rate. “may i please kiss you?”

your eyes widened, and you laughed a bit. “you don’t have to ask izuku. we’re in a relationship! i’m totally fine with it.” you smiled and he noticeably calmed down. “oh thank god.” he breathes.

the hand on your cheek lingers down to your jaw, and you see him lean in.

with one more questioning look, you nod giving him permission, and he finally presses his lips against yours.

it’s slow and soft. tender and loving as it feels like time goes in slow motion.

after a few seconds, he pulls away, eyes meeting yours in satisfaction. “thank you, n/n.” he says, before leaning in to peck you again.

denki ⚡️

you and denki always had a weird relationship

you both would flirt with each other, make bashful comments and gave each other slight touches every once in a while.

but you guys never talked about what you actually were.

you were just going with the flow, and you both seemed to be fine with that.

but denki really liked you. like a lot. and he never said anything due to the risk of ruining whatever type of relationship you guys had.

being your friend was better than being nothing to you at all.

sometimes he wished he could just drop everything and tell you his feelings for you, but that was nearly impossible to him

it was up to you to actually initiate something.

it was night time at the dorms, and you had just came from the kitchen after grabbing a drink.

you slowly made your way up to your dorm, but paused when you heard your so-called friend denki’s voice coming from kirishima’s dorm.

“come on guys. you know what we have is nothing serious. why would i mess up a great friendship for some stupid feelings?”

you squinted your eyes, wondering who he was talking about. a slight hope in your heart that it was about you.

“dumbass! y/n clearly likes you too!” you heard bakugo’s voice say, and you nodded harshly in agreement, as if anyone could see you.

“don’t you think we would’ve been i a real relationship by now if they actually did like me?” denki asked, and silence was the only response.

you internally groaned and face palmed your forehead.

how could you be so stupid!?

you liked denki too. you have since you both started talking.

but half of you always thought it was just denki being his usual flirty self. you knew he had a thing for a lot of girls in your class in the past, you didn’t think you were any different.

and you definitely didn’t come up with the idea that he may have wanted to be in a relationship.

what you had just heard shocked you, to say the least. and you made a mental note to talk about it with denki soon.

you were about to walk away from the door when it opened, revealing denki and baguko about to walk out.

all three of you froze, and you see the red haired kirishima on his bed pop his head up from behind the other two boys.

“the hell are you doing here?” bakugo asked gruffly. “just...getting a drink.” you held up your glass of water that was starting to precipitate on the sides.

“h-how much of that did you hear?” denki hesitantly asked.

“enough.” you looked down, embarrassed that you had been caught eavesdropping.

denki stepped in front of bakugo, closer to you, “look y/n i know you probably don’t feel the same. i should’ve told you about my feelings the day we started talking. it’s okay if you don’t want to be friends anymore. i know i made this awkward.”

your eyes widened at denki’s statement and you raised your hand without the cup, shaking it in disagreement. “what no!” you said, making all three boys look at you confused.

“denki...i like you too.” you said, looking up to meet his eyes. “i never told you because i thought you didn’t want anything serious, which is stupid. i should’ve known you weren’t that type of person. i can’t believe i thought you’d break my heart-“

your rant was cut off when you felt a pair of lips crash into yours.

the bright yellow hair that dangled in front of your face let you know it was the boy you had been crushing on for years now.

you closed your eyes, falling into the kiss.

it was kind of quick and a spur of the moment type thing, and when he pulled back, you both were panting.

“you have to idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.” denki said as his thumb swiped across your bottom lip.

“you losers! go get a room!” bakugo yelled from behind denki.

“glady.” the electric boy said with a grin, grabbing you hand and pulling you down the hallways

bakugo 💥

you and bakugo’s relationship was always on the slower paced side.

him being emotionally unattached most of his life and being hard at physical touch made for a lot of long and drawn out first times.

he didn’t hug you until about four weeks after you started dating, when you had come back from a long mission with the hero you were interning

and he never held your hand for more than a minute. he always claimed that it was because his hands were sweaty, but you always noticed how his cheeks turned red anytime you tried to cuddle up next to him.

you knew it was hard for him to be vulnerable around someone, even the people he cared about.

so you respected his decision and didn’t push him into doing anything he didn’t want to.

if that meant no cuddles until you were 4 months into the relationship, then that was the price you’d have to pay.

by the time you reached a half year in your relationship, the most you got from bakugo was a quick peck on your forehead. and that’s if he was being generous.

you always wandered when he would just go right for the bag, and place a fat smooch on your more than ready lips.

ugh. that’ll be the day.

speaking of...

it was the middle of the week. lunchtime.

you were in line, getting a school lunch for yourself because you were too lazy to make it that morning.

while you were waiting in line, whistling to yourself, you heard a familiar and almost menacing voice come from behind you.

“y/n!? is that you? ugh what a grand surprise!” monoma said with his hands held high.

“hello monoma.” you greeted tiredly.

“rumor has it, you and a particular boom boom boy seem to be a thing now.” he says.

“we’ve been a thing for a while monoma.”

“well i couldn’t tell, being the way he rarely interacts with you during the day.”

you rolled your eyes at the comment. sure, monoma was being dramatic as always, but you couldn’t help but feel the truth seeping through his words.

“that’s none of your business monoma.”

“awww did i strike a nerve y/n? i sincerely apologize. although...this might have been a wake up call for you, don’t you think?” he asked disgustingly sweet.

you were about to respond when you heard your boyfriend’s voice come from behind you. “shouldn’t you be with class B you weak, annoying little vermin?” he yelled before looking down at you. “this idiot messing with you babe?”

your eyes widened at the pet name he usually refused to call you, but you were even more surprise when bakugo gripped you chin and turned it so you faced him.

you didn’t have a chance to think before his lips was against yours, his tongue quickly sliding against your bottom lip before he pulled away, pulling on your lip with his teeth for an extra umph.

when you both separated, he looked at monoma with a smug smirk, causing the embarrassed boy to run back to his class.

you still weren’t able to find words as bakugo looked at you again. “that was fun y/n. i should do it more often.”

bakugo you sly dog ;) anyways, all your comments or requests would be greatly appreciated here! ->🥀

and if you happen to reblog, plz give credit. have a good day/night my loves!

[chicgeekgirl89]

The House in the Pines Where the Road Ends

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, The Reyes Family

Rating: K

Summary: Four sisters. Nine nieces and nephews. Dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Carlos has a big, loud, over-the-top family, and T.K. is about to meet all of them at the annual Reyes Family Barbecue. It's a day that promises food, fun, and lots of nosy questions. All T.K. wants is to make a good impression and all Carlos wants is for his family not to scare off his boyfriend. When a stray baseball ruins the fun, both T.K. and Carlos will discover that neither of them ever needed to worry.

A/N: I am so happy to FINALLY introduce you to my version of the Reyes family. They have become a character all their own and I love them very dearly. Get ready to see and hear more about them in upcoming fics! I cannot say enough thank you's to @bluenet13​ who has read this fic approximately a billion times in all its different stages, has beta'ed the heck out of it, and still wants to be friends with me.

For the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Sports Injury

Read on Ao3

“Wait, but are you sure this shirt is okay?” T.K. asked, twisting around in front of the mirror to look at it from every possible angle.

“Do you really think my family is going to decide whether or not they like you based on your shirt?” Carlos asked with a laugh.

“It’s their first impression of me,” T.K. said, fussing with the hemline, trying to get it to lay exactly right. “I just want it to be good.”

Carlos came up behind him, wrapping his arms around T.K.’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “They are going to love you.” He pressed a kiss to T.K.’s cheek.

T.K. turned in his arms so they were face to face, anxiety trickling through his veins. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Carlos told him. “I love you too.”

“Your family is important to you and I guess I can’t help feeling like…there’s a chance that if they don’t like me…”

“T.K…” Carlos sent him a look of fond exasperation.

“I know!” T.K. said quickly. “I know it’s ridiculous. But if they don’t like me, I don’t know where we go next.”

“I don’t think we need to borrow trouble like that,” Carlos said. “You already know my parents love you. And so do Elena and Elías.”

They’d had dinner at Carlos’ second eldest sister’s home a few weeks back. It had been fun to meet her and her husband along with their daughter, Carolina, and twins, Marco and Diego. Marco was rambunctious and spunky while Diego was more mild mannered and T.K. had enjoyed watching Carlos chase them around the backyard, playing baseball, tag, and wrestling.

But meeting one sister and her family was completely different from attending the annual Reyes Family Barbecue where there would be hundreds of aunts, uncles, and cousins to try and remember.

“Trust me,” Carlos said. “Elena will have spread the word and you’ll already have pre-approval before we even get there.”

“What if I call someone the wrong name?” T.K. asked. “I still think you should have written up a family tree like I asked you to.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. We’re adding to it like every day there are so many of us. You’ll never be able to remember. If you’re not sure just call them Gabriel or Valentina. There’s a forty percent chance you’ll be right.”

“This isn’t fair,” T.K. said, burying his face in Carlos’ shirt. “I have like, four family members. The playing field is so uneven I don’t even have a chance.”

Carlos kissed his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy the food. That’s all anyone expects of you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” T.K. grumbled.

“Listen, if anybody should be concerned in this situation, it’s me,” Carlos said.

“You?” T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“You just said, you come from a small family. My family is big and loud and all up in each other’s business. Francesca alone might be enough to make you run all the way back to New York.”

Carlos had talked before about his wild child fourth sister, Francesca. Apparently she was a force to be reckoned with and had caused quite a bit of trouble as a kid. According to Carlos every time he’d gotten in trouble, it had actually been Francesca’s fault. Well Francesca and Adriana, Carlos’ cousin who was more like a fifth sister. She and Francesca had been born within weeks of each other and been an inseparable duo ever since.

“New York is a pretty long way to run,” T.K. said. “And I’ve gotten kind of used to sleeping with you. I don’t really want to have to break in a new mattress. Oh, and for all I know you’ve gotten kind used to having my exercise bike in your dining room and I would have to buy a new one of those, plus moving costs are out of sight and I am on a civil servant’s salary here.”

Carlos kissed him again. “Come on. We’re already late and if we don’t get there soon then I will be in trouble.”

T.K. had already visited the Reyes family ranch a handful of times, but he had never seen it quite like this. Cars lined every inch of the drive up to the house, from pick-up trucks to mini-vans and everything in between. “Is this a family barbecue or a Lady Gaga concert?” T.K. asked as they got out of the car.

Carlos laughed and reached for his hand. “I told you.”

“Yeah I hoped maybe you were exaggerating a little bit,” T.K. said as they walked toward the driveway. As if he hadn’t been nervous already, now he felt overwhelmed. He was generally charming and good with people, but this was…a lot.

Carlos tensed. “Come this way,” he said, voice low as he tugged T.K. more to the side of the driveway, where a row of cars hid them from view of the house.

“What are we doing?” T.K. asked in confusion.

“We’re—”

“Carlitos don’t you even try! We see you over there!” a feminine voice called.

Carlos winced and looked at T.K. “I’m just going to say ahead of time that I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Two women came around the line of cars, each of them holding a drink. “You weren’t trying to hide from us were you?” the taller of the two asked.

“No I was just trying to get T.K. inside without the third degree first,” Carlos said, giving each of them a pointed look.

“Carlitos we’re not going to give him the third degree,” the second woman said, her many earrings flashing in the sunlight. “We’re just going to try and prepare him for what he’s about to face.”

“You don’t need to prepare him,” Carlos said with a sigh of long suffering. “There’s nothing to prepare for.”

“Oh my god Carlos, you cannot just drag him in here without some proper preparation,” the first woman said, turning to look at T.K. “So, you’re the firefighter stripper, huh?”

T.K.’s eyes went wide and he looked to Carlos who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. “For the last time, he’s a paramedic now and he has never been a stripper.” He opened his eyes and took a breath in a clear attempt to calm himself down. “T.K. I would like you to meet my sister Francesca.”

“His youngest older sister,” Francesca clarified looking T.K. up and down. “You’re hot enough to be a stripper.”

“And my cousin Adriana,” Carlos said loudly in an attempt to stop his sister’s comments. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” T.K. said with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “Carlos has told me a lot about you.”

“Is it about how we were always getting him in trouble when he was a kid? Because that’s a lie,” Adriana said. 

“Total lie,” Francesca echoed. “So, how has it been, living in sin with my brother?”

“Oh my god Francesca can you just let us get through the door first?” Carlos cried.

She shook her head and grinned. “Nope. This is way more fun. Besides, Adriana got to know about him first, so I wanted to meet him before everyone else.”

“Did Carlos tell you not to tell Tía Maria you’re living together?” Adriana asked.

“Um, no, he didn’t mention that,” T.K. said, looking once again to his boyfriend.

“I didn’t really think it was necessary,” Carlos said.

“Tía Maria has strong religious opinions,” Francesca said.

“Oh is she not…” T.K. began to pull his hand from Carlos’ but his boyfriend held on firmly.

“Tía Maria is fine with the gay, she’s just not all right with fornication,” Adriana said with a grin, eyeing T.K. for his reaction.

“Oh my god, forget it, we’re going home,” Carlos said, trying to turn around, but Francesca grabbed his other arm.

“Nuh uh hermano,” she said sweetly. “Mom and Dad are expecting you. I already texted them and told them you’re here.”

“Wait hold on, I’m confused,” T.K. said, feeling slightly panicked as the conversation moved so quickly around him. “What do I need to know about Tía Maria?”

“Tía Maria is very against pre-marital sex,” Francesca said.

“In her mind we’re all pure, sweet, innocent little virgins, waiting to give up our virtue to our husbands on our wedding nights,” Adriana said, her face suggesting that she’d rather throw up than submit to that particular lifestyle. “Little does she know that ship has sailed.”

“Under the bleachers with Jake Thompson in the eleventh grade,” Francesca said.

“In Mike Kowalski’s backseat…”

“After prom with Sebastian Chavez…”

“Okay that’s enough of the sexcapades thank you,” Carlos said, looking disgusted.

“You didn’t think I needed to know this?” T.K. said looking at Carlos.

“I am not ashamed of us living together,” Carlos told him. “I don’t care if Tía Maria knows.”

“Ugh barf,” Francesca said. “God I wanted to be mad at you for caving and leaving us all alone at the singles table but you’re so grossly in love I don’t even want you there anymore.”

“Can we go in now?” Carlos asked. “Is this little interrogation over with?”

“Oh you can go in, but it’s far from over,” Adriana said, wrenching T.K.’s arm away from Carlos and tucking it into her own as she walked him toward the house. “So, T.K. What can we get you to drink? Beer? Margarita? Or are you a wine snob? You look like you could be a wine snob.”

“He’s from New York, they’re all wine snobs there,” Francesca said.

“T.K. doesn’t drink,” Carlos called from behind him. “You already know that.”

Adriana nodded. “Just checking. That’s cool. I did the sober thing for like six months once. My skin was so great.”

“Okay, I’m taking T.K. inside now,” Carlos said, rescuing his arm from Adriana’s grip. “You two can go back to wherever it is you came from. I’m going to guess…the gates of hell?”

“So rude Carlos,” Francesca said with a roll of her eyes.

“Come on Cesca, I need another margarita,” Adriana said, pulling her toward the back of the house.

“But I have more questions!”

“Questions later! Margarita now!”

They disappeared around the side of the house, leaving Carlos looking embarrassed and T.K. feeling like he’d just been through a whirlwind. “You can literally ignore everything about them,” Carlos said as he opened the door. “Just pretend they don’t exist. That’s what the rest of us do when they get like this.”

T.K. had a feeling neither Francesca nor Adriana liked to be ignored, but Andrea greeted them immediately as they walked inside, leaving him no opportunity for further questions or conversation. “T.K.! Carlitos! Welcome!”

There were a few other people milling around inside, but it seemed like most of the family was in the backyard. T.K. could hear music playing and the smell of barbecue wafted through the glass slider doors that led to the oversized back patio.

“Sorry we’re late Mama,” Carlos said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s my fault,” T.K. said. “I had a shift and it ran over.”

“No apologies necessary,” Andrea said, waving a hand. “I understand the important work you boys do. I’m just sorry your dad couldn’t make it T.K.”

“He said to tell you hello and that he will be here for sure next time,” T.K. told her with a smile.

It had been a huge relief to find out that the party was scheduled while his dad was on shift. The last thing he needed was one more thing to give him anxiety about meeting Carlos’ family.

Andrea caught his face in both hands. “We are so glad you’re here T.K.” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you something to drink. I’ve got lots of that fancy water you like.”

The back slider opened as Andrea pulled a water from the refrigerator for T.K. “Boys! Bienvenidos!” Gabriel boomed as he stepped inside, bringing the scent of barbecue with him.

“Gabriel close that door before the air conditioning gets out,” Andrea scolded.

“Of course mi amor,” he said. “I was just looking for another set of tongs. Daniel is going to help with the second grill.”

“They’re in the pantry,” Andrea said. “Where they always are.”

Gabriel paused to kiss her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Carlos suggested with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a grape off the counter and popped it in his mouth.

Gabriel snorted. “Probably.”

“All right now you two, head on outside and join the party,” Andrea said. “You don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”

“Are you sure?’ Carlos asked. “We can stay and help.”

“No, no,” Andrea said quickly. “Gloria will be back in a minute. Go! Enjoy! Introduce T.K. to the family.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Tía Maria that you live together. You know how she gets and I do not need another lecture on how I raised my children with loose morals.”

“Yes, for everyone’s sanity, please keep that to yourselves,” Gabriel said, reappearing with the tongs in hand. “No need for my sister to know that you are breaking the commandments.”

T.K. turned and looked at his boyfriend. “Everyone seems very concerned about this.”

Carlos shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting. Tía Maria isn’t that scary.” He kissed T.K. on the side of his head and grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Besides, there are so many people here, we might not even see Tía Maria.”

They stepped out the door into the backyard. To the left was a play set that dozens of children were taking advantage of. To the right were several grills, all smoking away, the tables next to them already piled high with food and drink. And underneath sprawling oak trees dozens of picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up, all of them full of people talking, laughing, and eating together. 

“I knew you should have made that family tree for me,” T.K. said, starting to feel really nervous now as he saw exactly how many people had scattered across the backyard.

They made it about four feet before they were accosted by well meaning relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone seemed to want to meet Carlos’ new boyfriend. T.K. smiled and nodded and tried in vain to remember everyone’s names. Carlos hadn’t been exaggerating, there were a lot of Gabriels and Valentinas.

“Ay, okay, leave the boys alone,” a woman finally said, interrupting the melée. She sported a longer version of Carlos’ curls and T.K. remembered her face from some of the family photos. “Shame on all of you, they haven’t even eaten anything.”

She turned a warm smile on them as the crowd dispersed and went back to their merriment. “Hola T.K. I’m Teresa.”

Carlos’ oldest sister. She and her husband Javier lived in San Diego with their four kids, Valentina, Eva, Gabriel, and Bianca. Their visit to town was the reason the barbecue had been scheduled for this particular weekend. 

“Nice to meet you,” T.K. said, immediately feeling the same warmth and comfort radiate from her that he did from Carlos. 

She turned and pulled her brother in for a hug, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. “Come on. You can sit with us. I’ll fend off the nosy relatives,” she told them.

“Thank you,” Carlos said in relief. “I didn’t think it would be quite this bad.”

“You never do,” she said with a smile as she led them to the picnic table where her husband Javier was sitting with another couple that T.K. thought he recognized. 

“T.K. this is my husband Javier. And have you met Lucía and Justin yet?” Teresa asked.

Ah, Lucía. Carlos’ third oldest sister. She and Justin lived with their kids in McKinney and had driven up for the weekend. They had been set to attend the dinner with Elena and Elías but one of the boys had ended up in a soccer championship so they’d had to cancel. 

“So T.K. I hear you’re from New York? Nice to have another East Coaster join the party,” Justin said.

“Oh yeah, Carlos said you’re from Philly right?” T.K. asked.

“Born and bred,” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t cheer for the Giants do you?”

T.K. smiled. “I’m more of a Mets fan actually. Football’s not really my thing.”

“Well that means I don’t have to hate you, but don’t say that too loud in Texas. Football is life here,” Justin told him.

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. replied.

“Tío Carlos!” a gaggle of kids ran up to the table all of them clamoring for Carlos. 

“Tío Carlos I got on my soccer team at school!”

“Can you come play baseball!”

“Did you know my tooth is falling out?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Everyone talked at once and Carlos seemed to take it in stride, giving hugs and ruffling hair, looking at loose teeth, and promising to come and play in a minute.

“Hey, all of you, adiós,” Elena said. “Leave Tío Carlos alone. He’ll play with you later.”

It took a few more admonishments from their parents, but eventually the children dispersed to different corners of the ranch. “We’re doing you a favor T.K.,” Lucía told him, rocking baby Nicolás back and forth. “Once Carlos goes with the children he doesn’t come back.”

“He’s their favorite uncle,” Justin explained.

“And for good reason,” Javier added. “His knees are young and spry.”

“You guys are exaggerating. The kids love everybody,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

Teresa shook her head. “It’s okay to admit that you’re their favorite Carlos. You’ve earned the honor.” She looked at T.K. “Carlos is too modest.”

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said fondly and he could see Carlos blush a little bit.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Carlos said. “We’ve been here half an hour and no one has offered me any food. What has happened to this family?”

The situation was fixed immediately and T.K. found himself with more food than one person could possibly hope to consume, sitting and listening to the Reyes siblings recount stories from their childhood.

T.K. felt the bench next to him shift and turned to find Francesca and Adriana joining them.

“Did Carlos tell you about the time he ran away from home?” Teresa asked.

Carlos groaned. “No, do we have to tell this story every time?”

“Yes, because it’s hilarious,” Elena said. “He was what, about six at the time?”

“I was sixteen so yes,” Teresa said. “Carlitos was mad because all of us sisters got to go to a movie and he didn’t. So he wrote a note saying he was running away and never coming back.”

“And then he disappeared for seven hours,” Lucía chimed in. “Mom was beside herself. They checked the entire house, called all his friends, she was sure he’d been eaten by a coyote.”

“Well I was the one who found him,” Teresa said with a smile. “Up in that tree,” she pointed several feet to the left, “crying because he’d climbed up too high and couldn’t get down.”

“We had to call the fire department to come and get him,” Francesca said with a smirk.

“And when they got him down, did he get in trouble?” Elena asked. “Nope. Because Mama was all—“

“My baby!” all four women chorused together. 

“Carlitos never gets in trouble,” Adriana said. “Ever. All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at Tía Andrea and she starts talking about how innocent and sweet he is and how he could never start a fight or break a window…”

Carlos had put a hand to his forehead and looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you done now?” he asked.

“No way,” Lucía piped up. “We still have to tell T.K. about the time you drove the tractor into the pond.”

“The pedal was stuck!” Carlos cried.

“That’s what he says every time,” Francesca told T.K. “It’s a lie.”

Carlos burst forth in a tirade of Spanish, likely exonerating himself from the tractor-pond fiasco and all of the women immediately began to contradict him. T.K. wasn’t sure whether to smile or intervene as they all talked over each other. His high school level Spanish could only pick up the occasional word. 

“This happens every time,” Elías said. “They’ll calm down in a minute.”

“A minute?” Javier said. “Forget a minute. We can all leave, they’ll be at it for at least half an hour now.”

Things really came to a head when Francesca stood, slammed her hands against the table, and shouted, “I did not put that goat in Lucí’s bed, that was Elena!”

“I watched you do it!” Carlos yelled back.

“Well then your brain is broken because that is not what happened!” Francesca said, pointing a finger at him.

The argument was broken up by the arrival of Andrea, followed closely by another woman T.K. didn’t recognize. “Girls! Ya basta! Qué esta pasando? Arguing in front of our guests, what is wrong with you?” she said, setting a large plate of taquitos in front of them.

“Disculpa Mama,” they all muttered, but T.K. caught Francesca giving Carlos the finger under the table and then she jumped a second later when he pinched her leg.

“Honestly,” she scoffed at them. “I am ashamed of all of you. T.K. I apologize on behalf of my daughters. I did not raise them to be like this.”

“See?” Lucía said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re all in trouble, but Carlitos is completely innocent.”

“Of course he’s innocent, he would never argue in front of guests,” Andrea said. “Did you all say hello to Tía Maria?”

“Hola Tía,” they all chorused.

“And Maria, this is T.K., Carlos’ boyfriend,” Andrea said with a smile.

T.K. felt himself stiffen under the intense gaze of Carlos’ infamous aunt. But he smiled and waved a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. She turned and looked at Teresa and Javier. “Cuándo será la primera comunión de Marco y Diego?"

T.K. caught a glimpse of Francesca who smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in an “I told you so” kind of way. 

“Later this summer,” Elena said smoothly. “We will send you an invitation of course.”

“They are a bit behind, no? Why the delay in this important milestone?”

“Tía, with Covid and everything it all just got pushed back. Don’t worry,” Elena told her.

“You’d better get a move on,” Adriana said. “We wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the blessings of the Lord.”

Tía Maria’s eyes narrowed as she picked up on Adriana’s sarcasm. “Is there something wrong with wanting my nephews to grow up properly in the church?”

“Of course not,” Andrea said quickly. “And they are Maria. Very good, pious little boys.”

T.K. saw the mischievous glint in Francesca’s eye as she opened her mouth. “So T.K., you live with your dad?” 

Everyone at the table froze and turned to look daggers in her direction. “Ah Maria! The watermelon! We forgot it inside, come on,” Andrea said quickly, glaring at her daughter over her shoulder as she ushered Maria away.

“Cesca!” Teresa chastised as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I was just trying to take the pressure off of Elena,” Francesca said innocently, taking a sip of her mojito.

“You were trying to stir up trouble,” Lucía said as the baby began to fuss. 

“Well someone has to keep things fun around here!”

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Marco and Diego ran toward them, kicking up dirt as they skidded to a stop by the table and interrupted the conversation. 

“Mom can I have another cookie?” Marco asked.

“I want a drink but Carolina said I can’t have a soda, but can I?” Diego asked.

“And Tía Teresa, Gabriel wants to know, can he get his Switch out of the car now, because he said you said he could get it later and now it’s later,” Marco spoke up on behalf of his cousin.

“Okay, hold on, everybody take a breath,” Teresa said.

The group momentarily broke up as everyone went to tend to their children’s needs and make sure they had eaten something besides cookies and chips. 

“So, are you ready to run back to New York yet?” Carlos asked when they were the only two left at the table.

“I think I’m holding my own all right,” T.K. said. “You were right about Francesca though. She’s…something.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not that actually was her being on her better behavior. I swear you’d never know she was working on a masters in biochemistry.”

“She’s fun,” T.K. said. “And she and Adriana clearly have the most dirt on Carlitos.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” Carlos said with a groan. “They’ll keep at it as long as you’ll listen.”

“I like it,” T.K. said, taking a sip of his mineral water. “It’s fun seeing you like this. Baby brother Carlos is a whole new side of you.”

Carlos blushed a little bit. “The way they’d talk you’d think we were all still kids.”

“It’s sweet. They adore you.”

“I—”

Carlos was interrupted by Valentina, Teresa and Javier’s youngest, who came running over, crying so hard she was hiccuping instead of breathing. “Tío Carlos!”

“Valentina, qué pasó?” Carlos asked worriedly, gathering her into his arms and sitting her on his lap.

“Marco me dijo que no podía jugar pelota con él,” she sobbed, her little heart so clearly broken over her cousin’s refusal to let her play ball with him.

"Lo siento, Valen. That's not very nice." Carlos hugged her close and kissed her hair. "Pero no le hagas caso. What if we get you a cookie, will that help?”

She shook her head, lip stuck out in an adorable pout, fresh tears threatening to spill over.

“Two cookies?”

She held up three little fingers and Carlos opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. “Tres?! Ay Dios mío.” He shook his head. “Come with me, pero no le digas a mamá.”

He slid Valentina off his lap and offered her his hand, which she grabbed onto eagerly. He looked at T.K. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” T.K. said, watching them walk over to one of the tables. 

Carlos pointed to several different options, Valentina shaking her head at each one until he found the kind of cookie she liked best.

T.K. felt a presence next to him and turned to find Francesca had returned. She had a strange look on her face. “You know he’s never brought anyone home before. Not like this.”

T.K.’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s happy,” Francesca said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She turned and looked at him. “You make him happy.”

“I do my best,” T.K. said. “He makes me happy too.”

“Yeah.” She looked at her brother again, adding some fruit to Valentina’s plate. “He wants kids. You know that right?”

“I do,” T.K. said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re good with that?”

T.K. looked at his boyfriend who was tenderly wiping the last of the tears from Valentina’s cheeks. They had talked about it of course. A few times. In passing. He knew where Carlos stood. And he knew that he wasn’t sure what kind of dad he would be, but also that he would do anything to make Carlos happy; including facing his own fears about being a father. “He’ll be a great dad,” was his answer.

She squinted at him, then squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to say this once and if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and shove your balls so far up your ass you won’t know how to get them out again. Carlos is special. And I know you’re all city boy, New York, squeaky clean, firefighter paramedic, or whatever.”

“But if I hurt him you’ll kill me?” T.K. asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she looked at him like he was crazy. “Teresa will. She’s like his second mom. She’ll take you down so fast you’ll never even see it coming.”

T.K. laughed. “I have no intention of ever breaking his heart. I promise.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” She cocked her head the way Carlos did when he was about to say something he knew was funny. “You’re pretty great for a stripper.”

“Okay, one more time. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work, but I have never been, and have no intention of being, a stripper,” T.K. said firmly.

“That’s what they all say!” she tossed over her shoulder as she got to her feet and flounced away to find Adriana. 

“What was my sister telling you?” Carlos asked as he returned, Valentina now seated happily with some other cousins at a kid sized picnic table. “Oh god, was she talking about the time I got arrested for skinny dipping in the lake because there is so much more to that story than the way she tells it.”

“No,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows, “but now I want to hear the rest of that. No she was just…being a good big sister. You’re lucky to have so many people watching out for you.”

Carlos softened, his hand seeking T.K.’s. “And now I have you too.”

T.K. squeezed gently. “Yes, you do.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All in all the day was going well. T.K. had handled every nosy question, every argument, every weird thing his sisters or relatives did with his usual charm and self-confidence. He fit in. 

All Carlos had really wanted was for T.K. to like his family, but seeing them like him right back…it was doing strange things to his heart. He hadn’t known until this moment how much it meant to gain his family’s approval of his relationship. He’d convinced himself that he was fine either way, and he probably would have been. But seeing them all joke and talk and laugh together was beyond his wildest dreams. And it was making him think some pretty crazy things about the future.

They’d chatted some more with his siblings and a few other family members who’d stopped by the table. But now Lucía had gone to put the baby down for a nap, and Teresa and Elena had been pressed into kitchen duty with his mother, while the men of the group had been enticed inside by a game on TV. Which left only Adriana and Francesca at the table. 

“So, T.K., now that the boring adults are gone, tell us everything,” Francesca said, a sneaky smile on her face.

“Ooh yes,” Adriana said, getting comfortable on the picnic bench. “Tell us all your dirty secrets T.K. You lived in New York so do you actually work for the mob? And how hard was it for you to learn to put gas in a car at such an advanced age?”

“Unfortunately no mob connections, although that probably pays better than firefighting or being a paramedic,” T.K. said with a laugh. “And the learning curve on driving was actually pretty quick. We have to fuel the engines, even in New York.”

“Well that’s boring,” Francesca said as she picked up a tamale. “Come on, you have to be more exciting than that. Any secret lovers you’re keeping back there on the side?”

“Cesca!” Carlos said sharply.

“I’m watching out for you!” Francesca cried. “I mean if you two have an open relationship or something that’s your business, but if he—”

“No,” T.K. said quickly. He looked at Carlos. “There’s no one in New York. Or anywhere else.”

Adriana and Francesca both wrinkled their noses, but Carlos hardly noticed, too busy looking at T.K. who was gazing at him with so much tenderness and love. He was taking it all in stride, the insanity, the prying. Questions that might have set him off a year or two ago he now brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Ugh, come on!” Adriana said. “There has to be something. You basically grew up on the set of Gossip Girl. You have to know at least one Kardashian or something.”

“Yes, how many private helicopter rides have there been?” Francesca asked eagerly. “Or penthouse ragers? You have to have been to a penthouse rager of someone famous!”

T.K. shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Adriana pouted. “So boring. Not one secret?”

“Oh, I have secrets,” T.K. said with a grin. He laced his hand through Carlos’. “But only Carlos gets to know them.”

“You play dirty, Strand,” Francesca told him with an approving smile. 

Carlos had had enough. “Come on,” he said, pulling T.K. to his feet and away from the women without a backward glance or apology. 

“Where are we going?” T.K. asked and Carlos wished the answer was a dark corner somewhere that he could kiss his boyfriend’s face off and show him how much he appreciated his efforts today. But that would not be happening anywhere on the premises. Francesca and Adriana could sniff out a couple having a quickie from a mile away. They’d caught Teresa and Javier in a Sunday School classroom during Elena and Elías’ wedding and had never let them forget it. Although Bianca had been born nine months later so apparently getting caught hadn’t been too much of a turn off. He definitely wasn’t risking it though. 

He pulled T.K. over to the patio where the music had cranked up to an all time high now that his cousin Rafael had arrived and was playing DJ.

“Okay,” T.K. said, looking nervous all over again. “You know I can’t really dance right? That first night at the bar, that was all just to get in your pants, you know that right?”

“What?” Carlos feigned surprise and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. And considering that you managed to get into my pants about half an hour later, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

“Not the point Carlos.”

“I’ve seen you dance. You’re fine,” Carlos told him.

“Yes in the club!” T.K. told him, eyes wide as he took in the way some of Carlos’ relatives were dancing around them. “This is like something out of Grease! Did you all rehearse this before you got here?”

“Look, Justin’s dancing.” Carlos nodded to where Lucí had managed to get a moment free from her children and pulled her husband onto the impromptu dance floor. 

“Justin’s been in your family for five years. He’s had practice.”

“You’re just going to follow my lead,” Carlos told him confidently as he pulled T.K. close. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax. Your Tía Maria looks like she’s about to come over here and remind us to leave room for the Holy Spirit,” T.K. hissed.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t care what Tía Maria thinks. I haven’t for a long time. I just want to dance with you.” He cocked his head and turned on his most charming smile, eyes pleading a little bit.

T.K. rolled his eyes and groaned. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Exactly,” Carlos allowed himself a full on smirk.

He put one hand on T.K.’s shoulder, the other on his hip and gave a comforting little squeeze. “And now you just follow my lead.”

He took a half a step forward, slowly, not following the music at all, encouraging T.K. to step back with his opposite foot. They managed fine for about three beats until T.K. stepped wrong and they stumbled over one another’s feet. “Sorry,” he said, face going slightly pink. “I told you.”

“You’re tense,” Carlos said. “You can’t dance when you’re tense. Relax. It’s all in the hips.”

“I’m from New York. I barely have hips at all, let alone beautiful, sexy, latin caderas like yours.”

Carlos laughed and bumped up against T.K. with said caderas. “You like my caderas?”

“You know I love your hips and normally I wouldn’t complain about anything you do with them, but everyone is staring at us.”

“They are not.” Carlos took a quick glance around the area and found that indeed, many of his relatives were staring, and he could read wedding bells going off in their eyes. “Okay they are but that’s because they’re nosy, not because of your dancing. Don’t worry about them. Focus on me.”

“Just don’t blame me if I break your toes,” T.K. said nervously.

“I think I’ll survive,” Carlos told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I like it.”

“Like what?”

“Completely off your game,” Carlos told him. “You never approach anything with less than one hundred percent confidence and charm.”

“Well I only do things I’m one hundred percent confident in,” T.K. said. “That way I never have to look like I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Ahhh, now it all makes sense,” Carlos said with a laugh.

The music changed and Carlos shifted so that they were closer together, one hand entwined with T.K.’s, the other on his lower back. “So. Tell me the truth. How glad are you that your dad didn’t come today?”

T.K. laughed. “Oh god so glad. You know how he is. He and your sisters would have spent the entire day trying to one up each other on embarrassing stories about us. And he might have won.”

“Oh I doubt that. We’ve got about two more hours until my sisters bring up the bathtub incident.”

T.K.’s eyes widened. “The bathtub incident?”

“Let’s just say it was very expensive and mostly Francesca’s fault.”

“You know, your sisters seem to take a lot of the blame in these stories even though you have a starring role in all of them. I’m starting to wonder who’s really telling the truth here.”

“Shh,” Carlos said, pulling him a little closer. “I’m a cop. I’m very trustworthy.”

“Uh huh.” T.K. looked amused.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

Carlos leaned forward so his lips were touching T.K.’s ear. “You’re dancing.”

And indeed he was, their bodies swaying back and forth, T.K. following all of Carlos’ movements without any trouble. T.K. opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the reappearance of Adriana. “I take it back,” she said, causing them both to pause their movement.

“Take what back?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“There’s no way he’s a stripper. Not with dance moves like that. Yikes.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” T.K. said.

“Good,” she said, giving him a mischievous wink. “I like to keep people guessing. Now step aside gringo and let us show you how it’s done.”

She grabbed Carlos’ hand and before he could protest she’d pulled him out to the center of the dance floor, yelling at Rafael to put on something they could really move to. Rafael smoothly transitioned into a song Carlos recognized and Adriana grinned as she began to salsa, clearly expecting him to partner her. He rolled his eyes, but obliged, catching her around the waist and moving back and forth in time with her.

“We approve,” she said as he spun her back and forth.

“Of my dancing?” Carlos asked.

“No, of T.K.,” she said with a smile. “We really like him. Me and all your sisters.”

It should not have warmed his soul so much to hear the words, but it did anyway. “Good,” Carlos said. “Is that why you pulled me out here? To tell me you like him?”

“No, I pulled you out here so he could check out your ass while you dance,” she said, looking over his shoulder, her grin widening. “Which he totally is by the way.”

“Adriana, shut up,” Carlos said, but he smiled anyway and dipped her, really letting loose as the music hit the chorus. Because apparently he was not above showing off for his boyfriend.

By the time the song ended he was sweating and breathless and so was Adriana. “You’ve still got it cousin,” she said. “Now go on. Go over there and take a victory lap with your boyfriend and his puppy dog eyes.”

Carlos looked over to find T.K. looking suitably impressed at the edge of the patio. Carlos shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as he walked over. “Well someone’s been holding out on me,” T.K. said when Carlos got close.

“It’s just dancing,” Carlos said.

“Just dancing? Carlos that looked like…I don’t even know, but it was freaking amazing!” T.K. said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. Why are you over here dancing with me?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and pulled T.K. close to him. “Trust me, Adriana might be a state champion in Salsa, but I prefer dancing with you any day.”

“She’s a state champion?” T.K. asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Carlos said, pulling him back onto the dance floor. “Three years in a row.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, Adriana is good at pretty much anything she decides to be good at. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“That doesn’t explain where your dance moves came from,” T.K. said, looking expectant.

“I um,” Carlos thought for a half second about lying before he decided to give in and tell the truth. “I may have partnered her for a few years.”

“How long is a few?”

Carlos sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. “Like fourth through seventh grade.”

T.K.’s jaw dropped. He pointed a finger at Carlos’ chest. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that!”

“Well it’s not like it’s relevant to everyday conversation! When would it have ever come up?”

“I don’t know!” T.K. shook his head. “What made you stop?”

Carlos shrugged. “I’m good, but I’m not championship level good. And I was getting into baseball. And Adriana is…really difficult to work with.”

“Carlos! T.K.!” They both turned to find a very welcome presence interrupting their conversation.

“Tía Luci,” Carlos said, pulling back from T.K. so he could give her a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“Well you know I had a date querido. T.K. mi amor! It’s so good to see you!” The many bracelets she was wearing jangled loudly as she hugged T.K. with equal fervor. 

T.K. had been to several Sunday dinners at this point and Tía Luci had accepted him exactly the way Carlos hoped she would, with nothing less than complete and total love. She’d always encouraged Carlos to be exactly who he was and love whoever he desired. It helped of course that she’d had four husbands of her own and was currently single and dating with astonishing frequency.

“It’s good to see you too Tía Luci,” T.K. said with a smile.

“I thought mom said you had a pottery class,” Carlos said.

“I had a date at pottery class,” she said and then leaned closer. “And the clay wasn’t the only thing that got handled, if you catch my meaning.”

Carlos’ cheeks burned as T.K. laughed. His aunt was a free spirit and that meant she was pretty free with most things. Including her sex life. And while Carlos didn’t judge, he definitely didn’t always need all the…details she provided.

“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “It’s not like you’re a saint either, sobrino. With a boyfriend like this you must get up to all kinds of nonsense. And if you’re not you should start. You’re only young once!” Someone caught her attention and she waved. “I must go see Alejandro, but you two have fun dancing.”

“How about we run away to New York together?” Carlos asked as she floated away.

“You love her,” T.K. said knowingly.

“I do. But I don’t need to know every detail of her dating life. And no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t quite seem to get the message.”

“Seems like Francesca and Adriana come by it honestly,” T.K. said. “Oversharing runs in the gene pool.”

“Yes along with nosiness, a strong desire to meddle, and a life long obsession with the Astros,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

“And yet somehow you have none of those qualities,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he was being sarcastic.

“Me?” Carlos said. “What are you talking about? I don’t do any of those things.”

“Maybe not so overtly. But when you found out Mateo’s house had blown up, you organized all those donations to help out him and his roommates.”

“Because it was the right thing to do!”

“Of course it was. But it was also meddling. Kind meddling. But meddling. And we’ve talked about the cow eyes.”

“What do the cow eyes have to do with anything?” Carlos asked, slightly annoyed.

“When you want to know something that I don’t want to share, you waste no time turning them on. And you know that neither I, nor anyone else can resist. Nosiness.”

“That’s not nosy! It’s…digging for information.”

“Information your chosen suspect may or may not want to share. The suspect being me. Admit it Carlos. You’re more like your family than you’d like to believe.”

“I—“ Carlos struggled to come up with a reply. “I don’t like that you’re siding with my sisters. That was not the point of bringing you here. You’re supposed to back me up.”

“Oh I will never speak to your sisters about this,” T.K. told him. “I’ve got your back. I just want you to know that I know.”

Carlos opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a small body hurtling into his legs so hard he almost fell over. “Tío Carlos!” Marco practically yelled. “You said you would come in an hour. It’s been more than an hour. Will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease come throw the ball with me? You promised!”

Carlos looked a T.K. who smiled and nodded toward Marco. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone with my sisters after what you just said. I’m scared about what other things they might put into your head.”

T.K. laughed and gave him a little push. “Go. I’ll try not to be swayed further to their side.”

“You heard him! Go! Go!” Marco pushed Carlos from behind over toward the grassy area past the picnic tables.

“Marco, Marco, relax,” Carlos said, breaking away from his nephew’s aggressive pushing. 

“I waited all day,” Marco told him with a glare.

“And you’re going to wait longer if you’re not polite,” Carlos told him.

Marco looked only slightly chastened. “Sorry.”

“Mhmm.” Carlos tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have a ball and a glove?”

“Yes!” Marco ran ahead and grabbed them off a picnic table. “Here. This one’s yours. Abuelo got it out of the garage for me.”

Sure enough it was Carlos’ high school mitt. It was beyond worn out, but it would do for a quick round of catch before he rescued his boyfriend from the clutches of whichever sister had decided to grill him next. 

“Okay you go over there and I’ll go over here,” Marco said excitedly, running several yards away, ball clutched in his hand.

His first throw took Carlos by surprise. “Whoa! You’re getting really good at that,” Carlos said as he tossed it back.

“Dad says I might make the travel team this year,” Marco said excitedly as he delivered another throw that made Carlos’ palm sting.

“Yeah I think you’ve got a good shot at it,” Carlos told him. “How’s your fast ball?”

“So good! But I have to work on my curve ball. It doesn’t always go the right way.”

“Ah, I’ve got a trick for that. Let me show you.”

It didn’t take long for all of Carlos’ nieces and nephews to realize he had left the adult table and was available for fun. After he finished with Marco, a game of tag was requested by his other nephews. Then Bianca and Elena wanted to show him the crafts they’d been working on and make him a friendship bracelet which he immediately put around his wrist. 

Nearly an hour had gone by and Carlos began to look around for his boyfriend, feeling guilty for having left him alone for so long. But just as he began making his way back to the picnic tables, Carolina found him and wanted to tell him all about a school project she’d finished recently.

One minute he was chatting with her about orca whales and the next something was colliding with his skull, hard and fast. He felt his head snap to the side, fingers automatically going to touch the spot directly behind his ear.

Carolina had frozen her eyes wide. “Tío Carlos? Estás bien?” she asked tentatively.

The world seemed to tilt and he sank down slowly onto a picnic bench, fingers fumbling against the weathered wood as he tried to aim successfully and not miss and fall to the ground instead. “Sorry!” Marco called, running over. 

Oh. The baseball. That’s what had hit him. That explained the extreme throbbing that had started and why he could already feel a knot growing at the site of impact.

“You hit Tío Carlos right in the head!” Carolina scolded.

“I didn’t mean to!” Marco protested back. “I just threw it, that’s all! I was working on my curveball! It wasn’t my fault!”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Carlos said calmly, even though his vision was starting to blur at the corners. “It was an accident.”

“See? It’s fine!” Marco told her. 

“I’m telling Mom!”

“No you’re not!”

The two continued to squabble and Carlos closed his eyes as their raised voices cut through his skull like a knife. “Carolina,” he interrupted finally. “Can you go find T.K. for me? Tell him I need to ask him something.”

“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at Marco. “I’m still telling mom,” she hissed, causing him to take off after her as she ran away.

Carlos swallowed against the sudden queasiness in his stomach. He was regretting the number of tamales he’d eaten now.

The sunlight was really starting to hammer into his skull so he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach from becoming violent. A hand on his knee startled him. “Carlos?” T.K.’s voice was quiet and concerned. 

Carlos opened his eyes and found his boyfriend or rather, several blurry versions of his boyfriend, looking up at him. “Hey,” he said quietly. Even talking seemed to hurt his rattled brain.

“Are you okay? Carolina said something about a baseball.”

“It was an accident,” Carlos said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Okay,” T.K. said slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation and read between the lines of what his boyfriend wasn’t telling him. “Where did it hit you?”

Carlos took another slow breath in through his nose as his stomach clenched. “Behind my ear.”

“Which side, this side?” T.K. asked, lifting a hand and gently probing at Carlos’s skull.

His fingers found the knot almost immediately and even though his touch was gentle it sent a stab of pain shooting through Carlos and his stomach lurched. He jerked away, unsuccessful in suppressing a tight lipped moan.

“Okay, hey I need you to talk to me, all right?” T.K. said, his voice going serious as his fingers instinctively sought the pulse point on Carlos’ wrist. “How bad is your pain?”

Carlos had had concussions before; you couldn’t play varsity baseball without the occasional injury. This was ten times worse than he remembered. “Like a seven?” His voice was shaky and opening his mouth at all felt like a huge risk given the discontent happening in his stomach. “And there are about four of you right now.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Carlos squinted at him. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Answer please,” T.K. said, eyes serious.

“Carlos Nicolás Reyes Moreno.”

“And where are we?” 

“My parents’ ranch.”

“Good. And what’s your badge number?”

Carlos opened his mouth and found his mind strangely blank. “I—”

“You can’t remember?” T.K. asked.

“I—no.” He felt panic start to well up in his throat. “T.K…”

“It’s okay,” T.K. said calmly, gently cupping the non-injured side of his face. “You’re going to be all right. But we need to go to the hospital, okay?”

“Oh god,” Carlos groaned partly from pain and queasiness and partly from panic. “Any chance we can sneak out of here without telling my family?”

“Oh, babe, I think that ship has sailed,” T.K. said sympathetically.

“Carlitos? What happened?” Andrea approached at a rapid pace, the Reyes sisters flanking her along with Adriana, Tía Maria, and Tía Luci. He was sure his father wasn’t far behind.

Even as pain clawed at the inside of his skull Carlos tried to assuage their fears. “I’m fine, just a little accident,” he managed.

“Carolina said Marco hit you in the head,” Elena said worriedly. 

“Head injuries are very serious,” Tía Luci told them. “I once dated a tennis player who got a concussion.”

“He got hit with a tennis ball?” Elena asked.

“No, we got a little overly enthusiastic in the bedroom. No half assed sex from that one!”

Carlos heard Tía Maria start muttering a prayer.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Is he all right?” Predictably Gabriel had caught up with the group, a large grill spatula still in his hand.

“Let’s just give him a little room to breathe,” T.K. said calmly, holding up a hand to keep them from coming in closer to smother him with concern. “Francesca if you could go get me some ice and a towel please.”

She disappeared in an instant toward the back of the house.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Teresa asked.

“I am fine,” Carlos insisted again, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. He would be. As soon as he was away from his coddling family and in his bed at home.

“Carlitos you be quiet and listen to your boyfriend. He is a professional,” Andrea scolded, worry coloring the sharpness of her tone.

“Yes, T.K., what does he need?” Gabriel asked.

“We’re going to get some ice on here and go from there,” T.K. said. “I don’t think an ambulance is necessary at this point.”

Francesca returned with ice and a towel. “Thank you,” T.K. said, wrapping the ice up tightly and then ever so gently pressing it against Carlos’ head.

He hissed in pain, knuckles gripping the edge of the picnic bench so hard he felt splinters of wood begin to dig into his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” T.K. murmured sympathetically. “We need to try and get the swelling down.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his head to hurt more, but the added coldness of the ice was proving to be too much and he felt the tight hold he had on his composure starting to slip. He wanted to leave, he wanted to lie down and sleep, he wanted T.K. to hold him while he cried like a baby because everything hurt like a motherfucker and he was embarrassed as hell about it. 

His family was still carrying on around him, he could hear them asking questions and making plans, but all he focused on was T.K.’s free hand, the one that wasn’t pressing ice to his skull. That hand was resting comfortingly on his knee, thumb moving slowly back and forth. Thank god T.K. was here to mitigate the chaos.

He didn’t realize he was starting to drift away until T.K.’s hand squeezed his knee more tightly and then moved up to his shoulder, keeping him upright. “Hey, hey, no, don’t go to sleep,” he said urgently.

Right. Sleep was not a good idea. Carlos forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s worried face, but it swam in front of him and made his stomach churn. “T.K…”

“I’ve got you,” T.K. said firmly. He turned and looked up at Andrea and Gabriel who had come to hover a little closer. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive you,” Andrea said immediately.

“You’re entertaining all these guests mi amor,” Gabriel said. “You stay, I’ll take the boys.”

“We’re all coming,” Lucía said immediately.

Carlos felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of his entire family standing around in the hospital waiting room and the kind of chaos that would cause. He didn’t need to worry though. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” T.K. said quickly. “There’s no reason to believe this is anything more serious than a concussion. It will be quick, not worth everyone coming out.”

“I will update you the entire time,” Gabriel promised.

“Text messages every five minutes,” Andrea ordered.

“Can you stand?” T.K. asked and Carlos nodded his affirmative, immediately regretting the motion when the throbbing in his skull increased.

T.K. took his arm and Carlos got up on wobbly legs. He made it about two steps before his knees began to give out and he felt his father grab his other arm. “Steady mijo,” Gabriel said.

It seemed like an eternity before they passed through the house and into the front driveway. Out of sight of his family Carlos felt the last of his control slip away. The blood drained from his face and he gagged. 

“Whoa!” T.K. said, quickly lowering him to the ground as he began to heave out the contents of his stomach onto the concrete.

By the time it was over Carlos’ pain had ratcheted up to somewhere in the nines and he heard himself letting out a pathetic whimper as his brain exploded inside of his skull. “Easy Carlitos, easy,” his father said, the words barely registering as he and T.K. lifted Carlos back onto his feet and basically carried him the rest of the way to his dad’s truck.

He ended up with his head in T.K.’s lap, his boyfriend continuing to hold ice against his head with one hand, while the other ran soothingly up and down his arm. “Stay awake for me, all right?” he said.

“Trying,” Carlos said, his voice sounding cracked and broken. Mostly he was trying to breathe because he really didn’t want to throw up again. Every bump in the road, every touch of the breaks, sent pain ricocheting through his head. “It really hurts.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there,” T.K. said softly. “You’re all right, keep breathing, okay?”

Gabriel pulled directly up to the ER doors and he and T.K. helped Carlos into a wheelchair. If he’d been in any less pain he would have found the entire thing humiliating, but every bit of his energy was currently being spent on staying awake and not vomiting all over the floor.

“I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Gabriel said as T.K. pushed him through the doors.

The next few hours were a hellish blur. They ran a battery of tests including an MRI and a CT scan, asked him dozens of questions, all of which he was able to answer thank god.

Despite his best efforts, he threw up twice more, T.K. holding a basin in front of his face each time, then rubbing his back comfortingly as he curled into a ball, knives stabbing through his head after such violent movement.

He hated being reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, especially in front of his father, but there was no help for it. The pain was only growing worse and there was no relief in sight, not until the tests came back.

“Breathe,” T.K. said, running a thumb back and forth over Carlos’ hand. “Carlos you have to breathe and try to relax.”

“I can’t.” The words came out on a whimper. “It hurts.”

“Carlitos, you have to try,” his dad said, sounding beyond concerned. “The more tense you are the worse it will feel.”

Tears slid down his cheeks as the pounding in his head beat on relentlessly. It had been hours and there was never any relief to the waves of pain, just a constant throbbing, knifelike agony. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, ragged, stuttering breaths tearing from his chest.

“I’m going to go find the nurse,” Gabriel said. “My wife and daughters might be better at nagging, but I’m sure I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

He disappeared out the door and the next thing Carlos knew the bed was shifting as T.K. climbed in with him, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos’ body. “What are you doing?” Carlos choked out.

“Taking care of you,” he said, his lips by Carlos’ ear. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe. Just a little bit longer and we’ll get you some medication. I promise.”

T.K.’s fingers stroked up and down his arm and he continued to murmur soothing words into Carlos’ ear. Carlos felt his muscles slowly begin to unclench one at a time. The agony in his skull began to ease, just enough that he could breathe easier and think a little more clearly.

His dad must have given someone a piece of his mind because within fifteen minutes the doctor had returned. “Okay, Mr. Reyes we are looking at a grade two concussion here. All your scans came back clear so while painful, your recovery should be pretty easy.”

“No brain bleed?” T.K. asked.

“No. No brain bleed, no skull fracture.”

He could see T.K. and his father sag in relief. They were both putting on a good front, trying to be strong for him, but in that moment the worry in the room finally lifted off like a cloud, dissipating into calm.

“We’re going to keep you for a little bit, start you on some strong Tylenol to help manage the pain. I’ll come check on you in an hour okay?”

It was another two hours before they were finally able to go home, Gabriel dropping them off with promises to bring Carlos’ car over in the morning.

He was more steady on his feet now and the medication had helped both his headache and the nausea, so with T.K.’s help he was able to manage the stairs without too much difficulty.

T.K. sat him on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can do it,” Carlos said, but his boyfriend gave him a stern look and continued. 

This behavior persisted until Carlos was settled in bed, an extra pillow behind his head, a glass of water on the nightstand along with additional Tylenol. “Better?” T.K. asked as Carlos leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Carlos told him. The lights were dim, causing his splitting headache to dull to a throbbing one instead. 

He heard his phone buzz for the thousandth time in the last few hours. “Do you want to see who that is?”

He couldn’t look at the screen without feeling like someone had stabbed a knife through his eyes. Hopefully that would pass quickly. It was only a grade two concussion and most of his pain was coming from the actual injury itself, not his brain rattling around in his skull.

T.K. punched in Carlos’ passcode and then scrolled through. “You have forty seven unread texts. Most of them are from your sisters. A few from your mom and aunts. And one reminding you to vote next week.”

Carlos groaned. “You’d think I was dying. This isn’t even as bad as the time Elías flipped the four wheeler over while we were on vacation. He broke his leg in two places and had to have surgery and nobody was all over him.”

“Oh, the texts aren’t about you,” T.K. said, eyes lighting up with mirth.

Carlos squinted at him. “I’m confused then.”

T.K. cleared his throat. “You listen to T.K. and do what he says. That one is from Teresa.” He scrolled a little further. “Congratulations on picking someone who’s not a dick. He actually comes in handy, that’s Adriana.” He snorted. “And this one from Francesca just says, ‘Remember not to fuck again until your brain is better.’”

“You know, Tía Maria campaigned pretty hard to send her to a convent when she was a teenager. Some days I think we should have let her,” Carlos said.

“The rest are variations on how great I am and how you need to eat a lot of soup and get a lot of rest. And I have a text from your mom.”

Carlos cracked one eye to look at him. “Are you going to share?”

“Mm…I’m not sure you can handle this one.”

T.K. was grinning from ear to ear, clearly beyond proud of himself and delighted to have information Carlos didn’t. 

“T.K. just read it. I can see that smug look on your face.”

He cleared his throat. “T.K. thank you for taking care of our Carlitos. You are such a blessing to our family.” T.K. grinned. “They like me.”

“Of course they like you.”

“They really like me.”

“Yes, T.K. My family loves you. Just like I always knew they would.”

“Well I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to get hit in the head with a baseball just so I could endear them to me with my paramedic skills.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Marco,” Carlos said. “He’s the one with an arm like a Major League baseball player.”

“Yeah he can really throw huh?” T.K. said, brushing a gentle hand through Carlo’s curls, careful to avoid the area the ball had struck. “How’s your pain?”

“Tolerable,” Carlos said. 

“And the nausea?”

“Better,” Carlos said. 

“Good.” T.K. seemed relieved. “Listen, next time you want to get out of a family activity, you can just tell me. You don’t need to give yourself a grade two concussion. Just say the word and I will fake an emergency and get us out of there.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fake an emergency after hour one,” Carlos said. “Thank you for today. You getting along with my family it…” Tears threatened to close his throat and he forced them back because he really wanted T.K. to know what he was feeling. “It means everything.”

“They’re easy to get along with,” T.K. said. “And we have a lot in common.”

“Oh?”

“We all love you.”

[anotherimaginethatblog]

Family Gatherings

Meet the parents.

Pairing: Kenny x reader

Warnings: small mention of something cheeky ... maybe more in part 2

Summary: you finally make the trip to meet Kenny’s family.

so i finally found the time to sit and write a little and this ended up being a lil longer than expected bit ive enjoyed writing this one, probably be a part two (possibly 3) so let me know what you think x 

hope you like it 

You were nervous, you had been since the day Kenny booked your airline ticket to Winnipeg so you could finally meet his family. You had heard all the stories about them, and they sounded lovely, but you were still, naturally nervous. Constant thoughts had flown through your head since the day you packed, what if they didn’t like you? Didn’t approve of you? you took another sip of your drink hoping the soothing flavour would relax you.

An hour later the pilot informed the plane full of weary passengers that the flight would be making its late arrival at the airport shortly, you began to gather your things up and pack them back into your designer backpack Kenny had bought you as a gift but couldn’t help thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing it, what if they thought you were showing off? Too gaudy? “breathe” you told yourself “it’ll be fine, they’ll love you” you said trying to boost your self-confidence.

“sorry mam, but would you mind stowing your bag? Were going to land soon that’s all” asked the kind stewardess who had given you that extra miniature off the drinks trolly earlier, probably due to the anxiety she saw on your face after striking up a conversation about why you’d be visiting Winnipeg in November.

“sure, sorry” you smiled back.

 Finally, After the stress of the queue at passport control, your bag coming off the plane last and trying to find your way out of the baggage hall altogether you were here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag to see a text from Kenny already, “waiting in the arrivals hall, ring me when your out” it read. You dialled his number and he picked up immediately, so quick he must have been waiting for you thought. “finally, you here yet?” he laughed.

“yeah, just got through, been a nightmare” you replied, “where you at?” you asked him.

“just at the coffee shop with my dad, well wait here for you. You’ll see it if you walk to the end”.

“okay babes see you in a sec” you replied before hanging up, instantly feeling nervous. His dad. You were going to meet his dad for the first time in an airport after hours of travel. Fantastic.

You saw Kenny straight away, those two-tone curls where recognisable anywhere. He looked relaxed and rested whilst he sat chatting to his dad unbeknown to you about how nervous he was for you to see his home and family. “what if she thinks I’m a huge loser once she’s seen I’m just a weird kid from Canada?” he asked his dad. His anxiety spiking in anticipation.

“she won’t, she sounds a great girl and clearly likes you so stop worrying.” His dad replied smiling at his son.

So deep in conversation they hadn’t seen you approach, “hey ken” you said, smiling from ear to ear at finally being reunited.

“babe, you look amazing, I missed you so much” said Kenny, words spilling out with a huge smile in his face as he looked you up and down, clearly appreciating the effort you had made. “this is my dad, (y/n)” he said stepping to the side to introduce the older gentleman who looked very much like his son.

“hi, I’m (y/n), I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you Kenny always talks about you” you replied any nerves melting away at how normal and nice he seemed, internally laughing at why you were so nervous in the first place.

“nice to meet you too, we’ve heard everything about you I’m so glad you managed to make it out. Big freeze on the way” he said. “let’s get home, before it’s too dark and your mother kills us for being late.” He laughed.

Kenny grabbed your bags and you both followed to the car as soon as you left the terminal you regretted your choice of coat. The leather jacket though warm was not enough to keep your heat against the cold Canadian weather “I told you to get a good coat (y/n)” said Kenny shaking his head at you.

“okay, I just thought you where exaggerating” you replied shivering.

“your so cute, its not far to walk” he said.

After realising Kenny’s definition of short walk was not the same as yours you reached the car and were incredibly grateful when his dad opened it for you so you could jump straight in. “thankyou” you told him while he cranked the heat up for you.

“no problem, its not a far drive either so well have you home and warm in a little while” he told you smiling at your lack of appreciation for the Canada winters.

 After a 40-minute drive you were at Kenny’s childhood home, it was just what you had imagined after hearing all of the stories from him about living in the suburbs as a kid. It was your classic suburban home with a lawn out front and a porch to sit on. It was actually really cute, you where excited to see inside. Kenny’s dad got out and left you two to make your way in, all of a sudden you where back to the nervous girl on the plane with the millions of questions about whether you where enough flooding your brain. All of a sudden Kenny planted his lips on yours and you snapped out of whatever you where thinking of immediately “they’re gonna love you, because I love you” he said. It was like he could read your mind and you kissed him back, you’d missed him so much in the time you’d been apart and if it wasn’t for being in his dads car outside his parents house you’d have climbed over and had him right there in the car. The moment was perfect for it … but the location was severely lacking. “we better get in the house before my mom sends my dad back out to get us” he smirked pulling away, clearly thinking the same thoughts you had been a few minutes prior.

“okay” you smiled back “lets go”.

 Once inside the house you felt relaxed all of a sudden, it felt like a home and all the stress you had had about the visit faded away. You took your coat and shoes off and followed Kenny into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde lady stood at the counter. “Tyson, and this must be (y/n). your so pretty” she said patting her son on the shoulder in an approving manor.

“thanks mom, I’m glas you two finally get to spend some time together. It’ll be nice to have the family all under one roof again.” He replied, with his mum giving you the once over.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally brought us a girl home, I thought you’d never setlle down to be honest” she said teasing her only son.

“mom” he said laughing back “I’m gonna take our stuff up, my room yeah?” he asked

“mhmm, and (y/n) across the hall” she said trying to gauge her sons reaction.

“your joking, I’m a grown man mom” said Kenny laughing trying to cover for the fact he’d been wanting to get you into bed since he’d seen you in the airport in those skin tight pants he loved so much.

“Its fine” you interjected not wanting to upset Kenny’s mum and to stop a fight over a room before you’d even settled in. “its fine, I totally respect that. We respect that don’t we ken” you said looking at him with pleading eyes to drop it.

“fine, its fine” he said turning to walk upstairs leaving His mum feeling guilty, though she would never admit it. Honestly she had no problem with the two of you sharing a room but who wants to hear the inevitable through thin walls on the first weekend of meeting your sons possible future wife.

“thankyou” she mouthed quietly to you smiling at how gracious and kind you had been at trying to avoid an awkward situation on your first meeting. You smiled back and followed Kenny upstairs to your room for the next few days. It was a gorgeous guest room, you dropped your bags off and crossed the hall to see Kenny in his childhood room. It was painted blue and like you expected there where wrestling and hockey pictures and posters all over the walls. “cute,” you said smiling at him

“its changed a little but not much” he said smiling back “my mom painted but put all my pictures back up” he laughed.

“that’s sweet, she probably wanted it to be the same for when you got back” you said.

“not that I ever got the chance much” Kenny sadly replied.

“she understood why though” you mentioned reassuringly with your arm on his back.

“you know, I never thought id get a hot girl in my room” he said laughing

“you still wont” you said getting up to go downstairs “come on lets go hang out” you laughed Kenny following reluctantly.

 you spent the rest of the evening chilling out in the kitchen, drinking wine with his mum while him and his dad watched sports on tv. “I’m glad I got to meet you” his mum said to you smiling

“me too, I’m so glad to finally meet everyone and happy for Kenny to spend some family time at home, he’s always on the road I’ve told him he needs to make more of an effort” his mum appreciating your words.

“yeah but he’s busy doing what he loves, I would never tear him away from that” she said laughing at him and his dad.

A few hours later it was time to head to bed, his mum and dad had called it a night a few hours earlier but you and Kenny had stayed up to chill and watch a little tv together. “I’m heading up babe” you said pecking him on the cheek

“okay babe me too then” he said getting up to turn everything off  before following you upstairs

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, pulling him into a hug “guess ill see you in the morning” you teased

“unless you wanna sneak over in a little bit” he teased

“Kenny … no, I don’t want to disrespect your mom” you said back shrugging.

“okay okay, can I at least get a hand job in the bathroom” he laughed  

“goodnight Kenny” you said turning to walk away.

After completing your evening routine you settled down for the night, it was hard to drift off knowing your man was just over the hall, who you had been dying to touch since before the last time you had said goodbye all those weeks ago. Eventually your eyes began to feel heavy and just as you where settling in for the night your phone began to buzz, straight away you knew who it was. – im lonely- it read, you rolled your eyes, it was gonna be along night.

[makeste]

Are there any headcanons that you would like to share? About anything you want.

anon in the absence of specific guidelines I have managed to make this post pretty much entirely about Bakugou. I apologize if you really wanted to know all of my headcanons about Kouda or something lol. but all joking aside he really is the character I think about the most and so probably like 80% of my headcanons are about him, including close to 100% of the headcanons I actually have a solid enough grip on to put into words. anyway here goes.

he does not know how to tie a tie. he was a rowdy little free range knee-scraping grass-staining run-don’t-walk child whose parents only ever managed to wrestle him into formal attire a handful of times for special occasions when he was younger, and then he went to a middle school that used gakuran-style uniforms so he never learned then, either. his dad offered to teach him when U.A. rolled around, but he was all, “fuck off dad, I know how to tie a stupid tie,” because by that time he had grown into a cocky little brat confident in his own skill and naive as to the reality checks of the world, and he genuinely believed with the conviction that only a fifteen-year-old can muster that when the time came he would just magically know how to do it. on the first day of school he got as far as draping the loose tie over his neck and holding one end in each hand before staring at the mirror and abruptly realizing the hole he’d dug himself into. and so rather than admit defeat, he just straight up decided not to wear it. which became a permanent life choice once he got to school and saw how badly Deku’s tie was tied and realized there was no way he could ever risk that kind of humiliation.

in a similar vein, I know there’s a popular fanon that because of his parents’ influence Katsuki has a good sense of fashion, but my own personal headcanon is that this could not be further from the truth lol. it’s not that he has a terrible sense of style, mind you; it’s just that he doesn’t care about it at all. he’s a nerdy jock who spends all his free time studying and lifting weights. this kid literally only wears one color, and that color just so happens to be the easiest possible color to coordinate. he owns like three pairs of shoes max. he wears his pants three sizes up and they drag so much that the hems are all frayed from him constantly stepping on them (literally canon, and one of my favorite details from chapter 218). he just doesn’t give a fuck, so long as the clothes are comfortable and don’t look stupid. he has about a million things he’s more concerned about than what he or anyone else is wearing. in fact I’m 90% sure that his mom still buys most of his clothes, and about 70% convinced he does not even know what size he is.

he’s good at household chores (because he’s good at everything), but hates doing them. aside from cooking, which he enjoys, he will bitch and whine nonstop if forced to do tedious-yet-necessary things like washing dishes and folding laundry. that said, he is a perfectionist, and he also has a lot of experience because his mom made him do chores all the time during the seven trillion times he was grounded while growing up (that’s his estimate, btw, so it may be slightly exaggerated. he was not an easy kid to raise. when your kid’s fuse is about a millimeter long and he has a tendency to literally blow up whenever he throws a fit, you end up with a lot of objects in your house that have been replaced at some point), so if you do actually manage to get him to do the chore, rest assured that chore is getting fucking DONE.

when he was very little he watched an Avengers Endgame-style All Might film where a bunch of bad guys attacked earth and various assorted heroes tried and failed to stop them. then at the climax of the film, All Might showed up and said “I am here”, and everyone got super pumped up and excited because they knew the heroes were going to win with All Might on their side. this scene remains Katsuki’s favorite scene in anything. not the fight -- just the moment where All Might shows up and grins and the audience knows right there and then that he’s going to win. this is the feeling that inspired his dream. he wants to be the one who shows up and everyone is like, “we’re good now; Katsuki is here.”

when he was six or seven he got into a big fight with an older boy over that scene because he said it was fake and that there was no way All Might could have beaten those guys in real life. Katsuki insisted he definitely would have because All Might never loses. the other boy replied that everyone loses sometimes. Katsuki kicked his ass and got suspended for a week.

ten years later, Katsuki watched All Might battle All for One at Kamino and realized two things. one, that the other boy was right and that anyone can lose. and two, that he, the one who had so proudly defended All Might back then, was going to end up being the reason why he finally lost.

for a long time afterwards, he couldn’t bring himself to watch that movie again.

when he and Izuku were three years old their moms sent them out on a first errand (google Hajimete no Otsukai if you’re unfamiliar with this tradition, I promise you it is the cutest fucking thing you’ll ever see) to buy ingredients for katsudon. Izuku was full of bouncy childish enthusiasm and could rattle off the full shopping list of ingredients front to back, but when the moment finally came his confidence wilted as soon as their parents were out of sight. Katsuki also had a moment of panic when they first rounded the corner and he couldn’t see his house anymore, but rallied once Izuku burst into tears and he realized that he had to be the one to take charge. he proceeded to morph into an absurdly over-the-top caricature of his own mother for the duration of the errand, to the point where in addition to telling Izuku to stop crying he also ordered him to stand up straight and tuck in his shirt. the two of them went on to complete the errand flawlessly and their moms were PROUD AS FUCK and took a billion pictures. Izuku and Katsuki have only a few scattered memories of this milestone in the present day but it’s enough to send both of them absolutely reeling with embarrassment whenever they’re reminded of it.

he and his mom don’t often get along but sometimes they’ll bond over roasting a mutual target. they have watched many a trashy reality TV show together for this purpose. Masaru lives for these moments but never comments on them lest he spoil the rare moments of peace.

Katsuki is perfectly capable of using keigo (i.e. normal polite Japanese with no rude language/cursing), otherwise he would not be one of the top students in his ivy-league high school. code-switching is a thing guys! anyways his teachers are aware of this, because all of his essays and homework assignments are written normally. he merely chooses to go about his daily business acting like a wannabe yakuza stereotype because that’s just his personality, and he’s not about to start censoring himself and acting like some weird little goody two shoes robot person just to please people he mostly doesn’t give two shits about. but if you put a gun to his head and told him you’d pull the trigger if he said “fuck”, he would probably be all right; he’d just have to concentrate.

when he was little he went through a phase of collecting cicada shells and leaving them EVERYWHERE -- in the bathroom sink, on his mom’s pillow, you name it. Mitsuki often tells people this is when she started getting gray hairs. one time she opened a box of cereal and there was one in there and a little bit of her soul died that day.

he generally doesn’t care who calls him Kacchan. it doesn’t particularly bother him and it never occurred to him to pretend like it did just for appearance’s sake. also secretly for some reason the thought of Deku ever calling him anything else really bothers him. he’s not sure what it would mean if that ever happened, or what he would do.

all of his workouts are designed to strengthen his arms and back and shoulders because those are the parts of his body that take the most abuse from his quirk. other than that he avoids building up excess muscle anywhere else because the more weight he puts on the harder it is to fly around. for this reason he is never going to end up being a big bulky guy like All Might. one day Deku is going to surpass him in muscle, but he doesn’t care because he’ll still be a match for him in firepower and speed.

he’s one of those kids who will not so much as take a sip of alcohol until he’s twenty-five. partly because he’s experienced enough concussions that he doesn’t particularly want to give hangovers a try, and partly because he’s a control freak and honestly afraid of getting drunk and making an idiot of himself somehow. the rowdier members of class A try virtually every trick in their wheelhouse and then some to try and persuade him over the years, but not even the reverse psychology “aw, don’t worry, it’s okay if you’re... scared :)” thing works, because that’s only actually effective when he secretly wants to do the thing.

then one day he just wakes up and is all “you know what, I’m gonna try it”, and for the next few days his google history is basically just “how many drinks does it take to get drunk” and “how to avoid getting drunk” and “how to prevent hangovers.” somehow word gets out through the grapevine (he probably told Todoroki, who is the one person in class A you’d think wouldn’t be a big ol’ gossip but in fact IS) that Bakugou is finally going to get his drink on that weekend, and pretty much EVERYONE shows up at the izakaya that Friday night excited as FUCK.

Katsuki proceeds to drink a grand total of two beers over the span of several hours, and drinks like five glasses of water in between, and literally nothing happens to him at all except that Kaminari almost fights him out of frustration. the rest of class A never fully gets over their disappointment.

he actually knows like 90% of class 1-A’s names by this point. there are still a few people he doesn’t and will never know, though. twenty years from now Aoyama will still be “that weird fucking french kid” in his mind.

he had no idea who Eri was until the Christmas party. sometimes he’d hear the other kids talking about someone named Eri, and from context clues he somehow ended up thinking it was one of Aizawa’s cats. when Eri came to the party he had a brief moment of curiosity wondering if she was Sensei’s niece or something, and then he heard someone say her name and he was all “THAT’S ERI?!” and his entire worldview was briefly shaken up.

he pulled Kirishima aside to ask him and Kirishima basically gave him Eri’s whole entire life story which was way more than he actually wanted to know. he’s now kind of terrified of ever being in the same room as her for fear of having to interact with her because he’s pretty sure he’d do or say the wrong thing. most of the time being intimidating is something he strives for and puts a lot of effort into, including when he’s around kids (who are basically just smaller, sloppier adults in his mind), but he doesn’t want to be the guy who scared an abused kid, so he basically just hopes the others will have enough common sense not to ever go “oh hey you know who should totally interact with each other?? Eri and Bakugou!”

that being said, if circumstances ever arose which forced Katsuki to protect Eri, the two of them would totally bond and they would have a really sweet relationship in which Eri looked up to him just like she looks up to Deku and Mirio and the rest, and where Katsuki was constantly trying to be on his best behavior around her, like genuinely, sincerely trying, and kind of failing at it a lot but still being sweet in a gruff sort of restrained-disaster way.

...and after sitting there for a while trying to think of more I couldn’t come up with any so I guess that’s it! basically most of my headcanons are about how secretly boring Katsuki is. honestly if it weren’t for him having the vocabulary of a 52-year-old sailor whose foot was caught in a bear trap, he and Iida would probably be best friends.

[jamesmydeer]

Please Don’t Swear x Sirius Black

notes: goodness it’s been a while. i’m beyond sorry for my absence. i feel like since it’s been so long since i’ve written, this may be a little wonky. please let me know if you liked it! thank you so much for reading!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing :/

masterlist

Growing up in the wizarding world, the subject of magic was hard to avoid. Every child grew up on the stories of their parents’ times at Hogwarts, learning spells and having fun. They didn’t have to question what the words on their wrists meant, they learned the meaning before they could formulate coherent sentences.

Y/n L/n grew up in a completely different environment. She had been taught from a young age that magic was not real, and it was silly to believe so. She couldn’t explain the weird things that happened to her, all she knew was that it wasn’t normal. The most alarming thing was the three words written on her wrist.

She knew it was vulgar. For as long as she could remember, her parents had done their best to cover them up. She wore long sleeves year round, bandaids over the writing, anything to make sure no one knew that spelled out on her wrist were the words “What the fuck?”

It was almost comical; at first glance it seemed so pretty. The writing was a lot more elegant than the wording. Maybe if it was on someone else she would think it was hilarious. But it wasn’t.

Y/n was eleven when she received the letter that explained everything. She was a witch. Everything made so much sense once she figured out that she had magical powers that she had yet to learn how to control. Well, almost everything. She would later learn that the words on her wrist were the first words her soulmate would say to her.

Soulmate.

———————————————————————

Sirius Black hated the three words that displayed across his wrist. He was bossed around by his family enough, he didn’t need his soulmate for that. “Please don’t swear.” Yeah right.

His mother would use the words to her advantage as much as she could. Whenever he would do something she didn’t agree with, she would simply inform him that ‘your soulmate wouldn’t be pleased.’ Sirius hated it more than anything.

So, after arriving at Hogwarts, Sirius decided that he didn’t care about soulmates. He would date who he wanted to date and not acknowledge the twinge of disappointment he wasn’t scolded by a girl upon speaking to her.

———————————————————————

“You know, you’re never going to get anywhere dating around Padfoot,” James scolded Sirius, who had just returned from Godric knows where.

“Yeah, cause having a soulmate has really worked out for you, mate,” Sirius jokes.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Lily and I will one day be-”

“the happiest couple in the whole world,” the three marauders cut him off, having heard the statement too many times to count.

“Yeah, we know Prongs.”

“Say, if James knows his soulmate, and she can’t even stand to be around him, I can only imagine how much yours hates you, Pads,” Peter laughed, earning him two swift slaps to the back of the head. He quickly turned around and hit them both in the arm. Before the trio could start a wrestling match, Remus cut them off.

“You know, he’s right.”

“Hey,” James muttered.

“No, not Wormtail. You, you git. Pads, if you don’t at least try to find your soulmate, you’re never gonna be happy,” Remus warmed him.

“Exactly, do you want to spend your future wondering what could have been if you weren’t such a tool?” James teased, once again starting up a wrestling match.

Remus rolled his eyes and returned to his magazine. “You know, you should look for her tonight at the party.”

“Yeah right, as if I, Sirius Orion Black, want to spend an entire party looking for some chick.”

“You know Moony, I think he’s chicken,” James said, proceeding to cluck at Sirius. Peter joined in.

“Real mature you guys,” Sirius deadpanned. They continued clucking. “Cut it out,” he warned, growing more annoyed. As the clucking grew louder, and the flapping arm movements became more exaggerated , Sirius caved. “Fine!”

James and Peter cheered, high fiving each other. Remus smirked down at his magazine, knowing that his plan had worked. Sirius glared at him.

“You know, you’re too smart for your own good,” Sirius whined, aggravated that Remus knew this exact thing would happen.

“What can I say, you lot are predictable.”

“Piss off!” Sirius retorted, turning towards the door to walk away.

“Please don’t swear,” James and Peter laughed, earning a crude hand gesture from Sirius, followed by the slamming of the door.

———————————————————————

Y/n and Lily sat in the library, quietly bickering back and forth across the table.

“How come whenever you ask me to study with you, we never study?” Y/n asked, annoyed with Lily’s inability to be quiet.

“Oh come on, it’s one little party. Please don’t make me go alone.”

“No way Lily. You remember what happened last time?” Y/n whined, hoping Lily would soon drop it.

“That was one time! And Marlene didn’t mean to spill her drink on you. She said sorry like a hundred times!” Lily retorted, trying her hardest to convince her friend.

“Yeah, well sorry didn’t dry my clothes off.”

“Oh pretty please. I really want you to meet my friends. You and Remus would get on really well.”

“Is it because James is going to be there?” Y/n teased, looking back down at her book. When Lily stayed quiet instead of defending herself, Y/n’s head shot up. When she noticed Lily’s blush, she knew that she had to go for her friend.

“Fine, I’ll go lover girl.”

“Thank you so much. You know, you might even find–”

“Yeah yeah, now shut up. You dragged me here to study, now study!”

———————————————————————

The Gryffindor common room was a lot louder than usual. Y/n had been there a total of thirty minutes and was already ready to leave. She glanced at Lily to make sure she wouldn’t notice, and saw her talking with James. She smiled, partly because she was happy for the pair and partly because she knew she could leave undetected.

As a fifth year threw up in the corner, she glanced down at her butterbeer, suddenly disgusted by the beverage. She decided that she would set the butterbeer on the closest table and make a beeline for the door.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure Lily hadn’t spotted her, she collided with another body, and her drink went all over them.

“What the fuck?” Sirius yelled, surprised at the sudden coldness and angry about the uncomfortable wetness.

Y/n, trying not to make a scene that would alert Lily of her absence, frantically scolded the person in front of her.

“Please don’t swear.”

She looked up and was met with the eyes of Sirius Black. She felt very small under his glare, which she guessed she deserved, having spilled her cold beverage all over his front.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll go get you some paper towels,” she spoke shyly, turning to grab something to dry him off with when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“What did you say?” he asked, a mix of shock and anger on his face.

“Um, that I was going to go get some paper towels…” Y/n responded, coming out as more of a question. She always thought the Black boy was a bit curious.

“No, before that,” he shook his head, rolling her sleeve up. Y/n went to jerk her arm back, but Sirius let it go before she could attempt to.

That’s when she realized what was going on. Sirius Black, notorious bad boy, was her soul mate. Of all people.

“It’s you?” she gasped, beyond shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised, princess. You know, you ruined my life!” he progressively got louder, let all of his bottled up feelings towards the whole soulmate situation finally spill.

At this point everyone at the party was silently watching the argument unfold.

“Me! Me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to have a curse word on your wrist?” she yelled back, growing angrier the more she looked at him.

“Just say fuck!”

“I most certainly will not!”

“You know, we’ve barely said ten words to each other and I already can’t stand you.”

“Well I’ve never been able to stand you! You–”

Y/n continued to talk, but Sirius tunes her out, focusing instead on her eyes. He thought they were very pretty. The light of the common room reflected in them, and he wondered what they looked like if they were filled with joy and not anger.

He moved from there to her hair, which he thought complimented her face perfectly. He found himself wanting to reach up and move the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

Sirius’ moment of infatuated bliss was cut off by a snap in front of his eyes.

“Are you even listening to me?” she thought she would never be angrier than she was at this moment.

It was then that Sirius noticed all the eyes watching their altercation. He grabbed her hand again, despite her protests, and ushered her into the hallway.

“Sirius Black I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but–”

“You’re really pretty,” Sirius smiles down at her, blushing under her bewildered gaze.

“Excuse me?” Y/n was left even more confused than she was before.

Sirius chuckled, reaching his hand up to cup her face. “You’re really pretty,” he reiterated.

Y/n blushed and averted her eyes downwards to her shoes. She didn’t know what to think, but she knew she liked the feeling of his hand on her cheek.

“I don’t hate you,” she spoke softly, looking up at the boy who chuckled softly.

“I don’t hate you either,” Sirius started, leaning in closer. “You’re far too beautiful to hate.”

Y/n smiled as Sirius connected his lips to hers. Both of their grins caused the kiss to be a tad bit awkward, but just about everything about the couple had been up to that point.

Sirius pulled away and placed his forehead against hers. He placed a soft kiss on her nose, which she responded to by scrunching it up. In that moment, Sirius felt like his legs might give out. As he leaned back in, they were interrupted by two very distinct giggles.

They turned around to see James and Lily hand in hand, both with sheepish grins on their face.

“Looks like this hallways is taken,” James spoke, avoiding Sirius’ knowing glance. He grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled her back down the hallway, looking forward to filling Sirius in later.

“Do you think they?”

“Oh for sure,” Sirius nodded, grabbing her hand and leading her back towards her common room.

“Let me walk you?”

“Lead the way,” she smiled, resting his head on his arm and smiling.

Maybe the years of embarrassment would be worth it. Looking up at Sirius, she figured they had to have been.

[awkward-gay-bro]

Candy Apple

Kevin was your average run of the mill guy, he was on his school’s wrestling team, did ROTC, son of a sheriff and a soldier. He had all the makings to be a golden boy, but that title always went to someone else. Archie Andrews. Kevin had to constantly listen to his best friend dole on and on about Archie. He was the main subject of every single conversation. And Kevin’s own relationship with Archie was… complicated. As a young gay man Kevin couldn’t tell if he wanted Archie, or if he wanted to be Archie. 

Kevin was in great shape, a real man’s man, sure he may like the odd musical, but it’s 2020, guys can be evolved now. Even so, Archie always treated him like he was one of the girls. And this Halloween, Kevin was going to turn the tables on Archie. He’d hard some rumours about the strange happenings in the next town over. It sounded like bullshit at first, but the deeper Kevin dug the more truth he found in the stories. After a long time of searching, he finally found something, or should he say, someone who could help him on his quest. So just in time for Halloween, Kevin was on his way to Greendale. 

“I don’t know how you found out about me, and I don’t really care. I’m not going to…” Sabrina said before she was interrupted.

“I don’t plan on telling anyone about you. I just need your help,” Kevin pleaded. He began to paint his tale of woe, exaggerating quite a bit to really add emphasis to why he needed her help. And though she seemed apprehensive at first, she really latched on to his feelings of otherness and not being able to fit in with any group at his school. Sabrina herself was stuck between two worlds, never feeling like she could really be a part of either, and that’s exactly what this kid was saying. This Archie guy she was hearing about definitely sounded like he could use a little bit of a reality check. 

“What are you looking to do?” Sabrina asked, genuinely. 

“I want Archie to feel the way he’s made me feel. Like he’s not enough of a man.”

“I think I have just the thing. My Aunt Hilda has a fun little speciality in food magic, and her Candy Apple might be just what you are looking for,” Sabrina said as she pulled a purple apple from her fridge. “As he takes a bite, just focus on the change you are looking for and watch it come to fruition.”

Archie was surprised Kevin wanted to hang out one on one, usually he just hung out with Betty or Veronica. Archie thought to himself that he’d also rather be hanging out with Betty or Veronica, but probably in a different way. As they sat in Kevin’s backyard they chatted for a while, talking  about sports, catching up on the latest going ons in each other’s lives, what they were dressing up as for the costume party tonight. The conversation was getting stale, when Kevin pulled out something out from his backpack.

“Dude, you have to try this Candy Apple I got. It’s orgasmic,” Kevin said, as he held the apple out to Archie.

“I think I’m good, that’s all empty carbs at this point man,” Archie responded, pushing it away. 

“Oh no, I totally get it. But you should take one bite, I don’t mind sharing. One bit won’t kill you, but I promise it will be life changing,” Kevin said rather persistently. 

“That good, eh? Okay, I’ll give it a try.” Archie grabbed the Candy Apple out of his friend’s hand and took a bite. It was the best tasting desert he’d ever had, he couldn’t believe it was just a simple apple and some sugar. It tasted like pure bliss. “Oh my God, man, that’s amazing. Where’d you get it?”

Staring intently at Archie, looking lost in thought, Kevin only managed to get out a quiet, “Greendale.”

“Woah, I’m feeling dizzy. Something doesn’t feel right, man,” Archie said as he grabbed onto his head. 

“Oh are you okay? Here let’s go inside and I’ll grab you some water,” Kevin replied, feigning ignorance as he lifted his friend to his feet. Kevin walked Archie inside with his arm around his waist, fantasizing about how much better that was going to feel in a few minutes. He sat him down on the couch and walked away to grab him a glass of water. 

Archie felt himself sink deeper and deeper into the couch as his body felt like it was compressing in on itself. “Was that apple laced with Jingle Jangle?” he thought to himself. It felt like a fire was spreading throughout his body, as all the hair on his body burned away. For a moment he felt like the whole room around him had grown, until he started to lift up higher in his seat as his hips widened slightly and his butt erupted in mass. The rest of his body had shrunken into nothing, but his rear end was more than making up for that, so much so he might be taller sitting down. As it finally finished growing the button from his jeans popped clear off and his boxer briefs were left in tatters. 

When he saw Kevin walk back into the room in a stunning blue suit he lost track of everything that was going on with his body. He’d never noticed how nicely Kevin filled out his clothes, and he couldn’t understand how it had never crossed his mind. This man was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on him right then and there. As he stood to his feet his jeans fell straight to his feet. His wife beater would have been a dress on him had his shelf like ass not stopped it. His shredded underwear may have stayed up had they been left intact, but with his current wardrobe malfunction his once proud meat was now clearly on display. His tiny pecker was hard as a rock staring at the real man in front of him. 

“Damn it, I missed the show. Sabrina wasn’t lying we she said it was fast acting. But now I doubt your costume is going to fit tonight. Lucky for you my step sister left behind some of her Pussycat outfits. I think that will fit just perfect with your new look.”

Archie wasn’t paying much attention to what the man was saying, but he whimpered softly when he left the room. Luckily the other man returned quickly, with something cheetah print in his hands. “Put this on for me Archie, I wanna see how it looks,” Kevin said. Archie quickly obliged, stripping his clothes right then and there. He would do what ever this man said. 

Standing in front of a mirror, held in the arms of his new found love, Archie was finally able to take in the full sight of his new appearance. A part of him was screaming that this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t okay. But that voice was drowned out with the warmth and comfort he felt of a real man’s embrace. The rest of the world seemed to fade to nothing, all that Archie could see was him and his man. 

“God, you look so good. I can’t wait to get to the costume party and show off my new trophy. With all the girls fighting over you, I think everyone will be surprised to see who you ended up with.”

[bffnct]

kiss me

pairing park jisung x reader

genre fluff, best friends to lovers

word count 2k

-

you lay next to jisung, tucked comfortably in his side with his arm on the back of the sofa, the only source of light coming from the tv in the middle of the dorm’s living room. luckily, the dreamies were on vacation, the other boys gone to visit their families while jisung stayed back with you since you were also on break from school. there was a large bowl of popcorn nestled inbetween your crossed legs, filled up to the brim of the microwave popcorn the boys had laying around, an almost gross amount of butter and salt added to it (though you and jisung werent planning on eating their entire stash, but hey thats a problem for jaemin to handle).

your favorite movie, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before was playing on the one and only netflix account you and the dreamies shared, and any chance you had to get your best friend of nearly 15 years to watch one of your cheesy teen-romance movies, you took it and ran with it.

the only problem was actually getting him to pay attention, the taller boy slumped in the sofa with his long legs taking up almost the whole floor space between the sofa and the coffee table, his other hand occupied with his phone, his eyes glued to the screen. you wrinkled your nose at him, disappointed in the fact that he had missed approximately 15 scenes of your soon-to-be-husband, Noah Centineo in all of his handsome glory, playing the character of Peter.

jisung didnt even notice you looking at him, too invested in his instagram feed, so when you threw a popcorn at his face, he flinched, dropping his phone in the process. he was about to pinch you when you raised your hand at him, bluffing that you were gonna hit him,  which worked in making him back down almost every time. jisung sucked his teeth and crossed his arms, sulking as he looked at the screen for the 5th time.

‘watch the movie’ you whined, jutting out your bottom lip and making your eyes big, playfully smacking him on the chest, jisung deadpanning at your attempt to get him to actually watch the movie. ‘watch the movie’ he mimicked you in a tiny, whiney voice, scrunching his nose back at you, giving you a cheeky smile before returning his eyes back to the screen. you narrowed your eyes at him, getting comfortable in his side again. in the span of the two of you bickering, you had completely forgotten where you were in the movie, until the scene went dark, and Peter lays in the hot tub.

oh. you were at that part. the kissing part.

you could feel jisung shift uncomfortably next to you, his body tensing up slightly as Lara Jean climbed into the hot tub with Peter, tension in the air in both the scene and between you and jisung. you knew jisung cringed whenever a kissing scene came on, and when Peter grabbed Lara’s leg and threw it over his waist so that she was straddling him, the two of them leaning in to share a steamy kiss in the hot tub, jisung flailed his impossibly long limbs around, nearly knocking over your bowl of popcorn. seriously, this boy was a walking noodle. ‘this is so gross! god, why do you like watching these things?’ he huffed, covering his eyes with his large hands, dragging them down his face, glaring at you with a very unamused expression on his face. ‘what?! theyre in love!’ you clasped your hands together, an exaggerated sigh leaving your lips as you pretend-fainted onto jisungs shoulder, looking up at your best friend with sparkling eyes. ‘i wish i had a tall, handsome boyfriend to come sweep me off my feet and kiss me like that!’ you stuck your tongue out at jisung, sitting up and crossing your arms.

jisung felt himself stiffen at the sight of your pink tongue peeking through your soft lips, gulping as he rolled his eyes once again, trying to ignore his heart that was beating at a rapid pace. ‘you have a tall, handsome boy right next to you’ he mumbled, deadpanning you once again. did this boy ever smile? it was hard for you to take him seriously, so you just let out a nervous laugh. ‘ji, we’re best friends, almost like siblings. if we kissed i think that’d be like, lowkey incest’ you tried to hide the shakiness in your voice. you couldnt even hear the movie playing in the background anymore, the sound of your beating heart muffling out any sound in your ears.

if the lights werent off, surrounding the room in darkness except for the tv, you’re sure jisung would be able to see your beet-red cheeks. the eye contact the two of you held was almost uncomfortable, an invisible string seeming to bring the two of you closer. jisung took the bowl of popcorn from between your legs, putting it on the coffee table before he crawled over you, your back now pressed against the seats of the sofa, jisung caging over you, looking up at him with wide eyes.

‘ji, what are you-‘

‘kiss me’ he said, his expression rock solid, contrasting the way he was nearly sweating and the way his heart was about to explode out of his chest. you nearly choked on your own saliva, the bluntness of his words making your heart skip a beat. ‘what?! why me? why dont YOU kiss me?’ you complained, feeling your breath become labored at the change of the air between you.

‘why do i have to do everything?’ he mumbled, taking a deep breath of air through his nose before he leaned down and connected his lips with yours.

your eyes shot open in a split second, a small scream threatening to escape your mouth. you didnt actually expect him, your best friend and life-long crush, to KISS you. there was no way he was kissing you, right? his lips were way too soft and the way his hair brushed against your forehead was almost too perfect, this couldnt be real, you had to be dreaming. you closed your eyes, expecting this to all end by the next time you opened your eyes, hopefully waking up from this dream.

that was until he breathed out, the cool air fanning across your skin, his tongue lightly swiping over your bottom lip. that set off electric sparks to flow all the way through your body, stopping at your fingertips. you gasped, parting your lips, allowing jisung to playfully lick at your tongue before he pulled back, looking down at you with wide, blown out eyes, your eyes the same way.

‘was that too much? shit, im sorry i shouldnt have kissed you, fuck-‘

you cut him off, grabbing the back of his neck and crashing your lips back into his, this kiss slower, no tongue, just the feeling of your lips molding together. it was so intimate, almost too much to handle. you couldnt explain the feelings that were blooming from your heart. you were happy, shocked, and you wanted to cry all at the same time. jisung pulled away again, the two of you out of breath, hearts threatening to leap out of your chests.

you could feel the tears threatening to escape your eyes, and instead of letting jisung see you get all emotional over a kiss, you started to smack at his arms until he was no longer over you, leaning back to sit on his heels. ‘jisung! why did you kiss me?!’ you yelled at him, still smacking the boy anywhere you could reach him. ‘ow! ow! fuck-y/n! stop hitting me!’ he brought his arms to his face, trying to curl up in a ball to shield himself from your ruthless attack on him (as if a boy his height could actually manage to make himself small).

you felt him grab your wrists with his hands, his scowl softened when he was finally able to see your face, your eyes shiny and cheeks wet. ‘hey, hey, what happened?’ his deep voice held concern and fright in it, afraid he had done something to hurt you. you sniffled, looking at the bowl of popcorn, avoiding eye contact. ‘y/n, im sorry for kissing you, if you dont feel the same way thats totally fine.’ he said with a soft voice, releasing one of your wrists to wipe the trails of tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

‘god, youre so dumb’ you mumbled, looking at him. his eyebrows knit together in confusion, lips slightly parted. ‘of course i feel the same way! that’s why im crying! do you know how long i’ve liked you?’ you exclaimed, making jisung fall silent.

you, the girl of park jisung’s dreams, and his best friend of 15 years, actually liked him back?

he looked at you with wide eyes, unable to believe what was happening. ‘do you know how long i’ve liked YOU?? i thought i made myself obvious! all of the cuddle sessions we had, the times we’ve held hands, when i play with your hair, i just thought you didn’t like me back!’ he complained, running a hand through his black hair out of frustration. jisung looked you dead in the eyes, fumbling his hands around to find yours, lacing your fingers together.

‘so you’re telling me, this whole time we’ve both liked eachother? we just never saw the signs?’ you said in a shaky voice, blushing when you saw your small hands holding jisung’s big ones. something about this felt different, the way his hands cradled yours, his thumb running over yours in the most perfect way. it made both of your hearts race, a pink tint coming up to rest on your cheeks.

‘uh, no shit, sherlock’ jisung teased, giving you one of his heart-melting smiles, raising your interlocked hands up to his face, kissing the back of your hands. you stuck out your tongue at him, unable to hold back the giggle that was bubbling in your chest. ‘ji?’ you whispered, looking down at your hands once again. ‘yeah?’ he leaned in slightly, unable to hear you clearly.

‘i think i’m in love with you, actually’ you looked back up at jisung, and thats when it hit him. your red nose, pink cheeks, puffy, sparkling eyes and soft, kiss-swollen lips. ‘i-‘ his voice cracked, clearing his throat.

‘i think i’m in love with you too, y/n’

your eyes widened, a big smile spreading across your lips, jisung matching your expression. you reached over and grabbed a hand-full of the now soggy popcorn, hurling it at him, bursting out in a fit of giggles. ‘jisung! you’re so cheesy! cheesier than this movie!’ you playfully wrestled with him, laughs and screams filling the living room. ‘yah! thats gonna stain the couch and when jaemin yells at me for it im not gonna cover for you!’ jisung threatens, finally getting his feet on your stomach to kick you off of him.

your laughing dies down, a comfortable silence filling the air. you two just sit there, staring at eachother, admiring eachother’s features. your heart swells up for the millionth time that night, reaching up and brushing his hair back and out of his face. jisung turns his head and playfully licks at your hand, chuckling at the way you pull back, a grimace on your pretty face.

you purse your lips at jisung. ‘so..does this mean i can call you my boyfriend?’ you asked in a tiny voice, scooting closer to him, your knees bumping together. ‘only if i get to call you my girlfriend’ jisung leans in and rubs his nose against yours, giving it a quick peck right after.

you smile, the two of you looking at eachother like you two put stars in the sky.

‘i like the sound of that’, you say, sealing the deal with a kiss.

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

[flipomatic]

Internship Chapter 7: Day 2 - Amity

Author Note: I recognize that Odalia is probably not head of the abomination coven. I'm rolling with it anyway.

First Chapter Previous Chapter

________________________________________________________

When Amity told her siblings that school was quiet without them, she hadn’t been kidding. The halls were emptier, the cafeteria had more open seats, and the overall chaos level of the school was greatly diminished without their presence. It was a nice change.

Today was the second day of their absence and school had just ended for the day. Amity had put her books away and was currently walking towards the front of the school. She had a lot on her mind since the day before, after hearing about her siblings’ internships.

It had her wondering about her own future and what coven she might join after graduating from Hexside. What if she didn’t make the cut for the Emperor’s Coven? If she didn’t join the Emperor’s Coven, where would she go?

Those thoughts filled Amity’s mind as she neared the front of the school building. She was planning to visit the library, maybe do some reading in her hideout. At least, that was the plan until she saw Luz.

Her friend was wearing her usual school uniform, with the rainbow sleeves and leggings that designated her as being in every track. It was a cute look for her, though Amity didn’t have the nerve to tell her that.

She was walking ahead of Amity, on her way out of the school and bouncing a little with each step. She must’ve been happy or excited about something, which Amity loved to see. Wait, no, hated to see.

As if she felt Amity’s eyes on her, Luz turned to look her way. When their eyes met, a huge wonderful radiant smile spread across her face. Amity’s cheeks were warm as Luz lifted a hand to wave at her, changing course abruptly to walk her way.

“Amity!” Luz called out her name as she approached, a sound that always set Amity’s heart fluttering. “Are you doing anything after school?” She asked enthusiastically, the pair stopping a couple feet away from each other.

Solidifying her plans in her mind, Amity replied. “I’m thinking about doing some reading at the library.” After saying it, she wondered if she should invite Luz to join her. She wanted to invite Luz, wanted to hang out with her, but could she say it? Just the thought of doing it was warming her face and probably turning it red.

“Sound like fun.” Luz didn’t seem to notice, she just carried on with the conversation. “Eda is making this huuuge toxic potion at the Owl House, she told me to stay away or else.” Luz dropped her voice to imitate Eda for the last few words, then burst out laughing at her impression.

If Luz didn’t have anywhere to go that afternoon, that changed things. Amity didn’t need courage, not if Luz needed her!

“Would you uh,” She took it back, maybe Amity did need some of that courage. The way Luz’s brown eyes locked on hers wasn’t helping. “Like to come with me?”

If Luz’s smile could grow any larger it would’ve. “Absolutely! This’ll be so much fun!” She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, even as she stood still. “There are so many books I haven’t read yet.”

“Do you have one in mind?” Amity was curious what Luz had been reading about. She was interested in the strangest things sometimes.

“Hmm.” Luz thought about it for a moment, then grinned. “Nope!”

Amity smiled at that, it was so typical of her but somehow still so charming. “I’ve been wondering,” Amity said, changing the topic to what had been on her mind for the last day. “What coven are you going to join?”

“Hmmmmmm.” Luz brought one hand up to her chin, thinking for even longer than before. Her eyebrows were scrunched together. To be fair, it was a much harder question. “I can’t decide, they’re all so cool.” She finally said, bringing her hands together in emphasis.

“That’s true,” Amity couldn’t help but smile for a moment, before her concerns about the Emperor’s Coven resurfaced in her mind. “I ask because, well, I’ve been thinking about it lately, which coven I want to join.”

“Have you picked one?” Luz asked, tilting her head slightly with the question.

Amity shook her head, “That’s the thing. I always thought I would join the Emperor’s Coven, but now I’m not sure. With everything that’s been going on, and with Em not making the cut, I don’t know anymore.” It felt strange to admit it, that she might not join the Emperor’s Coven. Now that she had said it, it felt more real than before. It had been her dream for so many years, to admit it might not happen felt like conceding a loss.

Luz was still looking right at her, eyes glimmering with ideas. “There are lots of other choices!” She stepped closer as she spoke, her voice louder than before. “Like abominations, or the other covens.”

“Abominations is an option.” It wasn’t ideal though, especially since her mother was head of the coven. She didn’t want to share that detail with Luz; it didn’t feel necessary. “But I don’t know what working there is like.” She had never asked her mother, since she never felt the desire to and never felt like she would get a meaningful answer if she did.

“We can totally find out.” Luz reached forward abruptly, taking Amity’s hand in her own. Amity’s face grew hot at the contact, a now familiar feeling, and she couldn’t find the words to protest. “I know just who to ask.”

Luz’s grip was firm as she started walking back into the school, practically dragging Amity behind her. After a few steps Amity was able to gain her footing and follow along, but Luz didn’t relinquish her hand. It was almost like they were holding hands, but not quite. Either way her heart was pounding out of control.

They walked down a couple hallways before reaching a wing of the school Amity knew well. It was the abomination classrooms, where she spent many hours of her days. They stopped in front of one of the classrooms, where Luz released Amity’s hand.

Amity looked down at her now empty hand while Luz poked her head into one of the classrooms. She seemed to find what she was looking for, since she then entered the room. Amity could hear her faintly from the hallway saying, “Hi Mr. Abomination Professor!”

Amity quickly entered the room as well, finding Luz talking with the abomination teacher. He was being held by an abomination as usual and appeared to have been half way through writing something on the board when Luz interrupted him.

“Good afternoon Luz, Amity.” He acknowledged both of them in turn, nodding in their directions. “What can I do for you?” He put his chalk down on the black board ledge.

“I have a question.” Luz raised her hand as if waiting to be called on. When he gestured in her direction, a bemused smile on his face, she continued. “What is it like working for the abomination coven?”

“I’m surprised to hear that question from the two of you.” He replied, having his abomination carry him away from the whiteboard and closer to the two of them. Amity knew he meant because of her mother and because her years in the abomination track, but she was still curious about what he would say. “I’ll still answer it of course.”

“Thank you!” Luz exclaimed, beaming. Amity nodded her thanks as well.

“The abomination coven places witches in a variety of jobs.” The abomination teacher went back to the board, picking up his chalk. He started to write a list on the board. “They primarily work in fighting roles. This includes assisting the Emperor’s Coven, performative fighting, and other supporting positions.”

“Performative fighting?” Luz’s eyes were sparkling, like she was imagining something. “Like abomination sumo?” What was sumo? Amity had never heard of that.

“I don’t know what that is.” The abomination teacher chuckled. “But there is a professional abomination wrestling ring, which might be similar. They host matches, all between coven members. It’s the last week of the season.”

“Ooh.” Luz turned to Amity. “We have to go to one.” She looked so excited and eager.

Amity couldn’t say no to her. “I’ll try to get tickets.” She wanted to go too, to see what it was like.

“Yes!” Luz pumped her fist once. “I’m so excited!” Then she seemed to remember where she was, and turned back to the abomination teacher. “Thanks for helping us.”

He smiled broadly. “You are very welcome. Run along now, go enjoy your afternoon.”

“See you tomorrow.” Amity said while Luz waved, the pair moving towards the door. A moment later and they had left, shutting the classroom door behind them.

“We should look for books about abomination wrestling at the library.” Luz said as they started walking back towards the front of the school. “I’m so curious, how do they wrestle?”

“There are probably books on that.” Amity had seen many books for each of the major covens around the library.

Luz wasn’t prepared to drop the topic yet. “I bet they’re like,” she raised her arms up in front of her, and made the exaggerated zombie face she’d been using when they first met. “blaaaah!”

Amity giggled, she couldn’t help it. Luz was too funny for her own good. When she regained her composure, she looked back at Luz. She had a small smile on her face and had been watching Amity laugh. Amity fought off a blush, pulling her eyes away to focus on walking straight.

They soon reached the front of the school and left to go to the library.

At the library, Luz was able to find many books about abomination wrestling, but none of them had pictures. She would have to wait to see what it was like.

Amity knew where the tickets were sold, she would probably even get a discount. She would go later to buy some. Hopefully they wouldn’t be sold out.

For now though, she enjoyed her time with Luz.

Next Chapter

[barrysjumpsuit]

blindsided - oc (barry’s sister) x rafe cameron (ch.6)

series masterlist  • series playlist

wc: 3.1k

synposis:  christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

warnings: use of guns, cannabis use, verbal/physical abuse and violence, cigarette use

a/n: the last chapter! i might have write up an epilogue if anyone wants one?? this was so fun to write and i don’t have any works in progress so please send me requests!

---

Rafe threw his truck into park, and stumbled out onto the tall grass. He was surprised he made it all the way to the Cut, with his pounding headache and waves of anxiety, panic, and fear that shook his body. The previous night’s events were too fresh on his mind.

He remembered seeing the cop, her gun pointed at his father. Then his father in handcuffs. Then John B was blaming his father for awful, horrible things. For killing his father, for stealing gold. 

Rafe’s brain was already off from withdrawal. That much was obvious to him - he had hit Christy, he had destroyed his bedroom. 

Rafe had destroyed himself.

He hardly realized that he pulled the trigger until it was too late, until Peterkin was laying on the ground, blood pooling around her. Rafe had hardly registered the yells and screams around him, and instead, blindly obeyed his father, telling him to return home, that he would handle it.

From there, he learned his father blamed John B for the whole incident. Rafe had found Topper and then Kelce, caught up in the manhunt, distracting his brain and fueling his rage.

And somehow, someway, here Rafe was, needing to escape his mind.

“Barry,” he called, pulling open the screen door into the living room. “Barry,” he repeated.

Barry was doubled over, doing a line. He sat up as he finished, snorting and wiping his nose before he answered. “Heyyy, what’s up, Country Club?”

“I need cocaine, Barry. I… I need it.”

“Ay, you lied to me, and I don’t like it when people do that. And, that was it right there, brother.”

Rafe could feel his body and mind weaken at Barry’s words. He tore through the trailer, opening cabins, stumbling down the hallway and into Barry’s room, trying to ignore Christy’s bedroom right across the hallway. “That’s bullshit, Barry!” he yelled, throwing open Barry’s closet doors.

“Yo, get out of my room!” Barry said, grabbing Rafe and throwing him back into the hallway.

 He stumbled down onto the floor in the kitchen. “Barry.... Barry, I fucked up.” 

Rafe could hear his labored breaths, and feel himself shaking.

“Hey, you’re good, you’re good, dog,” Barry was saying. “I’m sure you did, Country Club,” Barry continued, his voice almost a purr as he pulled out a chair and sat down in front of him. “But I can assure you, I’ve done worse. But y’know, my sister isn’t very happy with you.”

Rafe grasped at his hair, Barry’s words crushing him even more. He was crying, but didn’t care. “Barry… I did… something, and now I’m fucked, and like... for life, and I can’t get out of it.”

“My sister know about whatever it is you did?” Barry asked, and Rafe shook his head. “Hey, don’t come here telling me there’s no way out, because that’s a lie,” Barry was saying. “What you need to do is you need to nut up, bro. I got a big fuckin’ problem here, Rafe, you see me crying about it?” Barry fake cried, and Rafe glared at him, anger and adrenaline coursing through him. “No. Rafe, I ain’t got no money, them kids took it. But one of them kids got a twenty-five g reward on him. You help me out, I help you out, I can’t get no more product until I get some money.”

“John B,” Rafe whispered. He looked up to Barry; he sat with his forearms leaning on the back of the chair, grinning. 

“That’s the one,” Barry said, leaning forwards towards Rafe. He could smell his breath. “And when they get him, he’s gonna start snitchin’. On me, on you, on your girlfriend, and I don’t want that happening, cause we’ll all be fucked. What about you, Country Club?”

“No…”

“That’s gonna happen unless we get to him first. So how about we go get him?”

---

“What?”

Christy was still on the ground, shaking. She could feel her nose and lip bleeding, the gravel digging into her skin. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Barry grinned, and Rafe kicked him again.

“Rafe!” Christy screamed, grabbing onto his legs, trying to wrestle him to the ground. 

“Baby, I swear, I didn’t mean to-” Rafe was saying, crying, shutting down. 

“But you did,” she just said, dumbly, in shock. 

It was at that moment that Christy realized she didn’t really know who he was. She had overlooked everything. He was a manipulative, violent drug addict. He had murdered a cop. He had kept so much from her, while she poured her heart out to him, and would have gone to the ends of the earth to help him, to make him happy.

She realized she was still clinging to his leg, and she crawled backwards, repulsed, to end up beside Barry. 

“Rafe… why?”

“She was about to arrest my dad,” he responded, his voice breaking, but she felt no sympathy. 

“So you fucking shot her?” Christy countered back, and she saw his face visibly break.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t myself…” he was saying, breathless. 

“And you knew?” she asked Barry, shoving him roughly. 

“I’m not either of your all’s mother,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “All I knew is that he needed something to take the edge off, and that I needed my money back from those kids.”

“I can’t fucking believe you two,” she spat, pushing herself away from Barry this time. Some blood came out of her mouth as she spoke. “So what’s your big plan now, huh? Barry, he got away, no reward money for you. Congratulations, Rafe, you’re a fucking murderer. So now what?”

She saw Barry and Rafe exchange a glance. Rafe was visibly shaking from the anger. 

“You’re a little team now? Barry, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I own him now,” Barry slurred, grinning.

In that moment, Rafe crouched, picked up his gun, and aimed it back at Barry. Christy reached to grab hers, but Rafe kicked it away, wagging a finger at her. 

“Rafe, if you shoot him, you know what’s going to happen? You’re going to jail.”

“Actually, Christy, I’ll be able to get out of here. You won’t be able to bring yourself to lay a hand on me. And if you rat to the cops, I’m going to rat right back about your operation,” Rafe said. The man in front of Christy was completely foreign, one she had never met before. “It’s your word against mine, and I don’t think your criminal record will help you out.”

He was right. 

“So I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Rafe finished, gripping the gun tighter.

---

Rafe remembered when he sobered up the first time.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. 

That was the first time he ran to Christy. There had always been something between them, but he was too scared to admit it to anyone, even himself. Topper would shun him, Kelce would insist he could do better with literally any kook. Rafe knew that Christy wasn’t an ordinary pogue.

They had interacted a few times before. At keggers, when they ran into each other at Barry’s place. He didn’t fail to notice her lingering glances, but she never made a move.

Rafe was drunk the first night they hooked up. They were at a kegger at the Boneyard, Christy slinking throughout the mass of people handing out joints. She wasn’t drinking, just a little stoned, mellowed out and laughing freely. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, the navy blue of her bikini top almost blending in with the dark seawater.

Topper went home with Sarah, and Kelce with his girl, leafing Rafe alone. It was shitty of them, and they knew it. Rafe couldn’t be trusted alone, especially in his current headspace. 

So he made a move. He sought out Christy. So few things brought him pleasure those days, and he knew what he wanted. 

She seemed surprised. She agreed to go home with him. She drove his truck back to his place, because she didn’t think going to her place, with Barry, with the drugs, was a good idea. She made sure he wasn’t going to get sick, she made sure he used protection.

Christy was there for him. Every step of the way. In the morning, he pushed her away, realizing who he had hooked up with. A pogue, his ex drug dealer’s baby sister. 

But still, she came back for him when he needed her. She made him feel good, like he could do anything, without the drugs.

When Rafe was finally clean, out of the “withdrawal” phase, he pushed her away. He had his eyes set on tourons and other kooks. He could get anyone he wanted, without the strings Christy had attached to her. After almost a year, he realized that it was those strings he liked: he liked being with someone totally unlike him, someone whose entire life was dedicated to those she loved, and he liked being someone she loved.

That night at Topper’s house, when Rafe saw her, his heart skipped a beat. He had seen her around since they had hooked up, and he started wanting her back in his life more and more. 

That night at Topper’s house, he knew he had to make the jump.

He watched her all evening. Do her normal thing. Fake flirt just to make a deal. Exaggerate her laughs and her smiles. Rafe could see right through it all, that she just wanted to get out of here. When she wandered away to her two friends, lighting a joint, Rafe knew it was time.

The rest was history.

She poured her heart out to him, and him to her. When Rafe was with Christy, it was like he was living a life he had never lived before. He didn’t have to worry about impressing his father, because to Christy, he was already perfect. 

Rafe knew, deep down, he was using her. Just like when he was using drugs. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

---

“Rafe,” Christy said. She was aware of how weak her voice sounded. “You can’t shoot him. You never would.”

“Shut up!” he yelled, this time, waving the gun towards Christy. “You don’t know me!”

The gun was on her, and she was frozen. It wasn’t the first time she had been in this position, but it was the first time it had been with someone like Rafe. 

“I know you better than you think,” she replied. “Rafe, I know you hate your life, and I know you can’t bring yourself to fucking shoot the two people who work to make your life better. Without Barry, without me, where would you be?”

Suddenly, Rafe grabbed the front of Christy’s t-shirt and pinned her against his truck. Barry yelled something, but Rafe kicked him, and pressed the gun to the bottom of Christy’s jaw.

“Barry, you move, your sister’s dead!” he yelled. Christy met her brother’s frantic eyes before returning to Rafe’s. He leaned his face towards hers, his lips peeled back in a snarl. “You don’t know me.”

A split second was all it took. 

Barry threw himself onto Rafe, the gun firing. Christy dropped to the ground on her stomach, the gravel digging into her stomach, grabbing her discarded gun and levelling it towards Rafe from where she was laying.

Rafe was the only one standing. Barry had a hold of his gun, training it on him, grinning wickedly despite the blood dripping down his other arm, which he held close to his body.

“Rafe, you get the fuck out of here, and our mouths are shut and yours better be too,” Christy said with an unnerving calmness, shooting Barry a look. He glared back at her but didn’t argue. “And I never want to see you again.” 

There was a long period of silence and no movement from anyone. Rafe was visibly evaluating his options. Then, he moved, Barry and Christy’s guns following him until he climbed back in his truck and drove away.

Both Christy and her brother stayed on the ground, stunned. It wasn’t until then that she realized how badly she was shaking, dropping the gun back to the ground in disgust.

“Hey, Chris,” Barry said, pulling her out of her trance. He was sitting ten feet from her, his hand pressed over his bloody arm. 

“You good?” he asked as she looked over at him, and she nodded, but was still unable to move, processing everything that had happened in the past five minutes.

Rafe pulling up. Pulling a gun on Barry. Pointing a gun at her. He hit her, he threatened her, and told her he killed Peterkin, pressed a gun to her head. The look he had in his eye was foreign - it wasn’t the Rafe she knew. She had told herself she would stay with him through his best and through his worst, but she never realized he could stoop so low.

Christy had known, deep down, that Rafe was using her. At least that’s what happened the first time. But when he came back for her, there was something there. She had pushed those thoughts away, but they resurfaced too late.

Barry’s touch finally fully brought her back. She could feel the wetness of blood from his hand on her arm, and she shoved his hand away, looking at his arm. The discharged bullet had ripped through the inner muscle of his bicep.

“Barry…” she said dumbly, going to take off her shirt to press around it or tie it around it or do something to stop the bleeding. Her brother protested, but she shut him up with a quick “let me be the one to take care of you, okay?”

The words came out of her mouth without her even thinking, and Christy realized her ultimate flaw. She cared too much for everyone. Maybe it was from a lack of people truly caring for her, but she knew that a lot of her love for Rafe was due to the fact that he was broken and she was able to fix him.

Temporarily, at least.

You failed, her brain told her, but she pushed the thought away as her fingers were coated in blood from her brother’s arm. Christy knew he had been through worse when he was in the Army, but she didn’t care.

“Come here,” he coaxed as she finished tying the shirt around his arm. He pulled her into a one-armed hug, her face in his chest, and she cried.

---

That night, after walking back home with her brother and making sure his arm was okay, Christy packed a bowl and walked out to the end of the dock to watch the sunset. 

As she smoked, she thought about the constants in her life. There weren’t many. There was Barry, of course. That’s all she came up with at first. But then, she realized she loved where she lived, even if it meant existing on the same island as Rafe Cameron. She liked the sunshine that warmed her skin. She liked the waves she could escape in on her surfboard. She liked the shorebirds, hopping around the beaches terrorizing the tourons.

Those were things that would never go away. While there may be more Rafe Camerons in the future, or maybe someone better than Rafe Cameron.

As Christy laid back on the dock, she remembered her stoned thoughts from a few weeks before. The world is like a snowglobe. Agatha shook everything up. Most people settled, their lives back to normal. Some flakes rested precariously on trees, on houses, on people. They had a new vantage point, but gravity was always trying to suck them back down to the ground.

She remembered that she viewed herself as the snowflake, with Rafe as her pillar of support, but Christy realized that was all wrong. Rafe was the snowflake. Rafe was the one who was unstable, seeing the world as he never had before. With Christy, he was exposed to the rough and tumble life of those who lived on the Cut, packing weed into emptied-out cigarettes, spending nights in stuffy, humid trailers without electricity. Christy was his tree, holding him up, supporting him.

Rafe had fallen hard off that tree. 

He went back to old habits. Nothing had changed about him. He was continuously exploited by his father, wrapped up by the scandals that came with life as a kook, especially as a Cameron. Rafe had pushed her away, surrounding himself with people who lived the same life he did instead.

It was at this realization that Christy understood. She came to peace with herself. 

She stood, walking back across the dock. Barry had built a fire and was sitting in one of the beat-up lawn chairs, watching it. One arm was bandaged. One hand held a beer, several discarded cans laying on the ground beside him.

“The alcohol will thin your blood and make you bleed more,” Christy said flatly, sitting down in the chair next to him.

“You got any weed left on you, then?” he asked, his words slightly slurred. She knew he had an embarrassingly low tolerance, and handed him her pipe and lighter.

“Should still be some in there, I repacked it not long ago,” she said, but he was already coughing out smoke.

“You already over him?” Barry asked after he recovered. 

Christy looked at him through her hooded eyes and smiled, lighting a cigarette now that Barry had her pipe. “There’s nothing I could have done for that boy and nothing he would have done for me. Rafe Cameron is Rafe Cameron. I shouldn’t have been stupid enough to not see that.”

“You live and you learn, baby sister,” Barry said, raising the pipe up in a toast. She lightly hit her cigarette against it, taking a long hit. 

Nights like these were what she had as a constant in her life. People come and go, but Christy was always going to exist. What she realized now is that she could control who to give her love to. She would continue to love her brother, no matter how much he pissed her off. She vowed to continue to love herself, and not let any more toxic people in her life.

As Christy smoked her cigarette, she smiled to herself, knowing that she got something out of her time with Rafe Cameron. In reality, she and him weren’t that different.  Before Rafe, she was lost, just trying to find someone to love before chasing her next high, broken by their pasts.

But now, Christy knew who she was and where she belonged. She was a pogue from the Cut and proud of it.

--

taglist  @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @ims0golden @ampanonyg @hoeforpankow @jjsmentalpolaroids @queenk00k @drewstarkey @obbx-tings @bricksatanakinswindow @sortagaysortahigh @prejudic3   @delinquentstarkey  @rudypankow-whore @drewxxrudy​ @jjmaybcnks

[thirsty-x1]

First | Kim Wooseok

Request:

Can I request this Wooseok fluff where he's like this total boyfriend material on their date?? Like the ultimate boyfriend material 🥺 sorry i'm just whipped for Wooseok aknsalzn

↬ Pairing: Wooseok x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Fluff.

↬ Warnings: none.

↬ Word Count: 1.8k

↬ Song recommendation: First by Jooyoung ft. SOLE.

↬ A/N: I’m obsessed with the way that Wooseok looks while wearing coats so I’ll leave two beautiful examples here because I just had to add it to the scenario: example one, example two. And black haired Wooseok????? Fuck.

No matter how many times you two did this, he still felt a tiny bit nervous. It wasn’t your first date at all, if anything it was almost the tenth time you got to meet up with him, but Wooseok couldn’t get over the warm sensation on the pit of his stomach. Knowing that he would get to see you again always made him smile involuntarily, staring down to the floor in order to hide his bashful expression. The relationship was barely starting and he still couldn’t get used to the way his lungs tightened whenever you stood too close to him.

As soon as he felt the slight tap on his shoulder he had gotten used to, his heart jolted, eyes almost glinting as he greeted you. Usually he would say something that was kind of flirtatious, but his confidence tended to waver whenever he was in front of you, afraid that if he messed up you would hear just how loud his heart beat whenever you were near him and finally discover how intense his feelings for you really were.

You started to walk aimlessly, not really caring where it would take you since it was enjoyable simply being next to him. He listened intently to each and all of your words, keeping silent while his stare dropped to your fingers, his own fidgeting as he held back the impulse to intertwine them with yours. So far, he had deducted that physical contact didn’t really bother you, but there was a part of him that still wanted to be careful around you since he didn’t want you to think that he was trying to take advantage of the situation nor anything like that. After all, being like this and get to see you was all he needed.

There was that protective aura coming off from Wooseok: he always looked serious and calm, inwardly analyzing every single thing around him and always aware of his surroundings. He proved this once again as he eyed the street, his hands grabbing your shoulders and moving you slightly so that you would walk on the other side when he saw motorbikes pass by, and there weren’t enough gods for you to thank them that he wasn’t looking your way, your cheeks burning profusely.

When you spotted shiny lights, there was nothing holding back your excitement, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the fair that was close by. Even when you had reached your destination, none of you let go of each other, thanking the opportunity to finally feel the other closer. Your fingers felt cold against his slim ones and he took the chance to stick both of your hands on the pocket of his coat, your whole system warming up at the sweet action.

“Oh? There is one of those arm wrestling games over there… The boys are always bragging about how you are good at it.” He shrugged his shoulders, already mustering up his strength. “Care to show?”

He let out a small sigh, leaning his head to a side. “This will be easy, just watch.”

It wasn’t easy. Most of the time that kind of games were a bit rigged just so that people would lose his money, but this time it was about Wooseok’s pride and he was not going to lose that. At least not in front of you. His stare was penetrating the still fighter in front of him, expression slightly trembling as the game started, his arm hurting a bit with the burning but still not giving up, a small victory scream coming out of his lips as he finally beat the machine.

“Oh~” His lips formed a tiny proud pout at your reaction. “That was pretty amazing, I must say.”

The seller didn’t seem very happy with the situation though, probably since he thought that he would lose because of how slim he looked. “You get to choose any of the prices for beating in record time.”

“That one big bear looks nice, don’t you think?” His brows furrowed as you ignored his suggestion and chose a small cat plushie instead, not quite understanding why you would go for it when you could have chosen something better or bigger.

“It looks like you, so I want to take it home with me.”

If anyone else had said that to him, he would have probably started to say that there was no way and complain uselessly, but since it was you, his stomach flipped around with joy, quickly pulling his turtle neck up so that you wouldn’t catch the dumb smile he had plastered on his face.

The smell of food filled the air, the sound of your stomach grumbling made him laugh as he walked to one of the fast food places, pretending to try and read the prices as he waited right behind of you in the line and hugging you tightly. It wasn’t conscious, really, because otherwise he would have gotten extremely flustered. You had come to realize that much: Wooseok would unconsciously become touchy whenever he was near you, holding your hands out of nowhere or playing with your hair, even holding you close like now, but the second he snapped out of it, his cheeks could reflect what you imagined hell was like.

After buying some food and eating it, he proposed to get on the Ferris wheel, saying that “the view must be amazing at this time” when really he just wanted it to be the two of you alone for a little while. It was hard for him to be completely open and upfront about his feelings which took him to create witty plans to get whatever he wanted.

You expected him to take a seat by your side, the way every single couple did in this kind of rides, secretly holding the wish that you two could finally have your first kiss when the wagon reached the top, your fantasy crumbling instantly as he sat right in front of you. It slightly disappointed you but the excitement from the view was way bigger, holding the plushie tightly against you, jealousy striking Wooseok as he glared at the big inexpressive eyes of the toy wishing to be in his place. He chose to focus on your face and the way your smile became bigger as you looked outside the window, the city lights illuminating your facial features in the most adorable way.

He started to remember you two met, introduced by Seungyoun, the awkwardness that lingered almost through the whole date until he tripped while walking you home and how the sound of your laugh captivated greatly. Or on your second date, when you chose to watch an action movie at the cinema without telling him it was in 4D, giggling at each of his exaggerated reactions. Many would tell him he looked intimidating, others simply stating that he had a mysterious aura, but when he had asked you what was your first impression of him, you simply said “warm”.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice pulled him out of his trance, blinking a few times without knowing exactly what to reply.

So he just said the first thing that came to mind. “I really like you.”

The sudden confession had you blushing and he stumbled with his own words as he realized what he just said. You noticed that you were close to the top, your body fidgeting to get up and do something, but it wasn’t enough… so you just held the plushie in front of you and gave it a small kiss, Wooseok freezing in place, slowly putting the pieces together and there was never a moment where he felt more embarrassed. He didn’t quite think about the romantic location he had chosen to take you, and when he was about to take action, it was the end of the ride.

As you got off the Ferris wheel, he noticed your slight shudder at the cold breeze and saw it as an opportunity to pull the cheesiest move and recover from his previous failure, taking off his scarf and wrapping it around your neck instead, a proud smile spreading on his face as he saw the color in your cheeks. You had enough of you being always the one getting shy in front of him, seeing how smug he always looked whenever he managed to get you like this, so reuniting every bit of courage in your being, you held the slope of his coat and pulled him towards you, your lips grazing his cheek softly, causing him to open his eyes wide, jaw dropping down as he tried to compose himself, but that wasn’t happening any time soon.

It seemed as if you had won until he suddenly turned you around and held the extremities of his scarf, pulling you closer and pecking your lips, the contact lasting barely a few seconds but it felt like a whole eternity. There was a new kind of cold running up and down your body, immediately replaced by an insane warmth that could make the air around you evaporate in the blink of an eye. He pulled out his phone, hugging you from the back and placing his chin on your shoulder, taking advantage of your shock to take a selfie.

Looking at the picture now made him smile, even after a few years. That was the real start of everything, at least for him. There were too many first times for him: your first kiss, your first picture together, and the first time he thought about building a future with someone. So far, so good, he thought, staring at the frames hanging on the small shared apartment that showed all the memories that you two built for the past three years.

“Are you ready to go?” He turned around at your voice, his eyes taking in your outfit as he got up, sliding his hands around your waist. At times he thought about how naturally the action came out now, as if the things had always been like this between you two.

“You look absolutely stunning.”

You giggled at his compliment, fixing the neck of his shirt. “So do you. Now let’s go before we miss the reservation.”

He followed behind you, his heart beating faster just like that one time, although the reason was completely different from the one back then, the small box on the pocket of his blazer becoming extremely heavy as if demanding to be opened right then and there with the promise of another first time approaching.

I wrote this whole scenario so messily because literally as I was describing one scene, another came into mind and so I had to write it down quickly and then go back to the previous one and I just... I love Wooseok so much, I hope that whoever dates him takes care of his beautiful heart.

~Nani

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[asckj1]

Fan Fic - Relay Race (featuring Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji in a modern high school setting

Summary: A short fic with a modern AU setting where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are high school students. It's their school's sports festival day today and Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang are participating in a relay race. Wei Wuxian manages to pull in Lan Wanji in this race as their team member too. How does it go? Please read on~ (It's a mini comedy 😉) Link to the Archive of Our Own (AO3) website (in case anyone feels like reading the fic there-> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757100 *** It was the school’s sports festival today and Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were pretty excited to participate in every single sport they could possibly enter into. Wei Wuxian had of course forced Nie Huaisang into participating in each event too. Nie Huaisang:   Brother Wei, I don’t want to participate anymore! You’ve already signed us up for volunteering in football, basketball, short put… I can’t even keep count of what sports we are participating in! And these 100, 200, 400 and 1000 meter running races on top of all that! My legs will break!! Wei Wuxian:   Eyy~! Come on~! You’re exaggerating too much! You’ll do just fine~ How many times a year do we get to slack off from studying? Hm? Jiang Cheng:   Also, your brother will be proud of you that you showed such enthusiasm in sports. Nie Huaisang:    (smiling stupidly) Hehehe~ True true. Nie Huaisang gets baited quickly. Nie Huaisang:   Uh, Brother Wei, what are we going to do about our relay race by the way? We haven’t found our fourth team member yet. Wei Wuxian:    (beaming a huge smile) We found one~! Jiang Cheng traces his eyes from Wei Wuxian’s to where he is looking at and gasps. Jiang Cheng:   Wei Wuxian! Are you nuts! Don’t! You’ll ruin everything! Wei Wuxian:   Shut up! I’m going to go talk to him now. Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng both try to stop him. Nie Huaisang:   (standing in front of Wei Wuxian blocking his path) Don’t be hasty, Brother Wei! He doesn’t like to interact with other people much in the first place. Jiang Cheng:   Wei Wuxian, don’t bother him! He already hates you. Why are you digging your own grave? Wei Wuxian:   (pushing them both away) I’ll be back in a bit. Lan Zhan!! Lan Wangji, who is passing by the trio, halts on listening Wei Wuxian calling him out. His heartbeat quickens as he sees Wei Wuxian approaching him with a sweet smile on his face. He can’t take his eyes off of him and his heart just beats harder and harder making his chest feel painful. His ears too turn red little by little. But he is too stubborn to accept his feelings of course. He absolutely doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to notice anything. And so, with every step Wei Wuxian takes towards him, Lan Wangji’s eyebrows crease little by little. At that time, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang and slowly creeping towards them to listen in on how their conversation goes. Wei Wuxian:   (standing in front of Lan Wangji now) Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang and myself are participating in the relay race. We were short one person, so we put down your name for our team as the fourth member. Hearing this, Jiang Cheng facepalms and Nie Huaisang gasps. Jiang Cheng:   That idiot! He can lie so smoothly! Nie Huaisang:   Uh… H-He sure is bold! Lan Wangji:   I am not participating. Wei Wuxian:   Oh come on~! Don’t be such a spoilt sport! It’s a team game! It’ll be fun~! Lan Wangji:   (averts his gaze because he’s actually feeling breathless looking at his love up close) I won’t participate. Wei Wuxian:   (giving him an even sweeter smile) Okay~ See you in 2 hours~! Wei Wuxian turns around to see Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang standing some distance away. Jiang Cheng is glaring at him as always and Nie Huaisang is fidgeting about nervously looking towards Wei Wuxian’s direction for a second and averting his gaze immediately. Wei Wuxian runs towards them. Wei Wuxian:   Heeey~! All done~ He’ll join us in 2 hours. Jiang Cheng:   Hmph! Join us my foot! He just denied you! We heard it. Wei Wuxian:   (elbowing him playfully) He’ll come. You’ll see. He’s always alone. I’m just helping him have some fun. Hehe~ Jiang Cheng: Hmph! You just want to tease him. Go away. If he comes to fight with you, I don’t know you. Look at how he’s glaring at us already. Wei Wuxian turns around and waves to Lan Wangji which flusters him further with his ears turning blood red now. He stomps away. Of course the trio thinks his ears got that red from all the anger boiling in him. But they have no idea about this stubborn lonely rabbit’s feelings. They all just watch him storm away. Wei Wuxian is continuously giggling seeing him walk away, while Nie Huaisang is looking on nervously. Wei Wuxian finally goes and properly registers Lan Wangji’s name as their final team member. In the past 2 hours, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had a lot of fun competing head to head in all the different length running races. It was an excellent warm up for them all. Wei Wuxian won 3 races, while Jiang Cheng won one. Nie Huaisang was the last one to finish all these races. Both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were amusing themselves seeing Nie Huaisang’s “funny” expressions of extreme exhaustion that he made by the end of each race. Actually, most of their class was doing the same too. By the end of the last 1000 meter race, the whole class erupted in a huge laughter as he made it to the finish line and fell in a very funny way. But he took it really sportingly too and started laughing. Wei Wuxian:   (running towards him with a huge grin) Well done, Nie-xiong~! (pats on his back) Nie Huaisang:    (gasping for breath) Bro-... Brother Wei… Hahaha… it wasn’t so bad after all. Wei Wuxian:   Hehe~  Told ya~! Both laugh heartily and walk back towards Jiang Cheng who’s waiting for them by the side of the running track. Just as they are walking, Wei Wuxian notices Lan Wangji secretly looking at them yet again like how he had seen him doing so for all the running races today. Wei Wuxian:   Lan Zhan! You came to watch this race too?! Come here! Join us! Jiang Cheng:   Seriously?! He was here to watch all the races?! (furrows his brow) Nie Huaisang:    (finally catching his breath) He does watch us a lot of times actually. Jiang Cheng:   Huh? Wei Wuxian:   See? He wants to play with us. That’s why I invited him for the relay race. He never takes the initiative in anything. Someone has to push him. Jiang Cheng:   Heh. More like harass him, the way you always keep doing. Wei Wuxian:   You like it when I harass you too, don’t you~? Jiang Cheng:   (lightly punches him) As if! Just try and I would kill you. They’re both horsing around and Nie Huaisang is giggling in amusement. Lan Wangji is as always looking at the trio with furrowed brows yet again. Wei Wuxian:    (looking at Lan Wangji) Lan Zhan! Our relay race starts in 10 minutes. Be there on time! Lan Wangji just stares at him for a second and walks away. He’s actually very happy of course that Wei Wuxian called out so many times to him today. But he still won’t admit that this jolly boy in front of him has been doing something to his heart ever since he first saw him. Just 5 minutes before the relay race is to start, the four have gathered together. Wei Wuxian:    (facing Lan Wangji) Lan Zhan, you know the rules, right? Lan Wangji:    (nodding seriously) Mm. Jiang Cheng:   Who wouldn’t know the rules for a relay race? Ohhh~ Wait! Maybe a certain stupid standing next to me might not. (teasing Wei Wuxian) Wei Wuxian wrestles with Jiang Cheng on hearing this and Nie Huaisang once again laughs. Lan Wangji is standing there in a bit of confusion. Wei Wuxian:   Okay. Listen up.  The total distance is 400 meters. Huaisang will run the first section, followed by Jiang Cheng, then me and then Lan Zhan. Us three will have to cover up for any time loss that happens during Huaisang’s section. Everybody nods and wishes each other best of luck. Wei Wuxian: Let’s win this!! Everyone takes their positions on the track and is ready. The signal goes off. Huaisang sprints with as much strength and speed as possible. Even if the whole class was laughing their heads off seeing him in run in the other running races, they all do appreciate his continuous efforts and so are loudly cheering for him. He finally reaches Jiang Cheng and passes the baton and collapses on the spot. Through his exhaustion, he can hear a huge round of applause and on looking around, he understands that the cheers earlier as well as the applause are for him right now. He gets up with effort and bows to everyone for encouraging him. Jiang Cheng’s section is now crucial since he has to somehow surpass at least 5 people if he were to cut on the time they lost in the first part. Wei Wuxian is shouting his lungs out and so is Nie Huaisang. Jiang Cheng gets more pumped up hearing him and the cheers of the class and makes a really fast sprint. The last bit of distance and he really leaps forward stretching his hand as much as possible to pass the baton to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian: (grabbing the baton firmly, shouts loudly) Jiang Cheng, you’re awesome!! Jiang Cheng: (shouts back with a huge smile) You bet I am!! GO!! Wei Wuxian sprints at lightning speed too. Lan Wangji has been watching the whole baton pass from Nie Huaisang to Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian and had been thrilled to be able to experience this teamwork just now. He’s strongly focused now on seeing Wei Wuxian sprint past 3 more people and taking the lead in the race. Wei Wuxian closes in on Lan Wangji. His expression is strained and he is also gasping hard for breath. But he wants to pass this baton to Lan Wangji as fast as possible so that their team can finish first in the race. Wei Wuxian: (lunging and stretching out his hand carrying the baton) LAN ZHAN!!! Lan Wangji goes blank seeing Wei Wuxian’s expression and desperation. Before he knows it, the moment Wei Wuxian reaches near him, he pulls him close and actually carries Wei Wuxian in his arms, turns around really fast and dashes for the finish line. Wei Wuxian is totally dumbstruck at what just happened, his hand is still outstretched, holding the baton and mouth wide open with a silly expression while he is very comfortably being carried in Lan Wangji’s arms. The whole crowd goes silent too and before anyone can realise what the hell just happened, Lan Wangji has already crossed the finish line and still holding Wei Wuxian in his arms. Wei Wuxian is still in the same pose, his hand outstretched, holding the baton and mouth open with an extremely dumb expression. The whole crowd, including the student commentators for this race, students from Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s class, all teachers, everyone just bursts into a huge laughter. Lan Wangji finally realises what he did and also realises that he is still holding Wei Wuxian in his arms. His ears are blood red once again as he quickly but very gently puts Wei Wuxian down. Wei Wuxian is still in the same pose, his hand outstretched, holding the baton and mouth open with an extremely dumb expression. Just that he’s standing on the ground now. He starts hearing cheers from the crowd. Crowd: Princess Wei Wuxian!! You rock!! Crowd: Lan Wangji!! Nice one!! AHAHAHHAHAHA Crowd: We want to see another round!!! … The referee of the race: (announcing while catching his breath) You… You won! You won! AHAHAHAHA!!... You guys are a riot!!... HAHAHAHAHA Wei Wuxian finally snaps from the shock, closes his mouth and lowers his hand holding the baton, as he sees Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang run towards him. He takes a look at Lan Wangji, who has already turned his back to Wei Wuxian and is blushing really really hard, his shoulders really stiff and his head hanging really low. Wei Wuxian for the first time notices Lan Wangji’s blood red blush on his ears and suddenly blushes to the max himself, finally grasping what happened just now. *** Notes: Wahahaha!! Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji sure gave a good laughing material for everyone in the whole event. I was laughing stupidly while writing the whole thing too actually. They both are so adorable and funny. I am trying to think of a proper long AU WangXian story. And this scenario is just one idea that popped up in my head. So I tried to expand on it and write something down. As a result, you see this short fic above.  Did you enjoy it? Please do comment anything you feel like. I'd love to read your comments 😄