#then again that color... he did it for me

[entitled-fangirl]

War prize.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!reader

Summary: The North hates Cregan's wife and shows it rather harshly. Cregan is there to tell them off.

Warnings: violence, sexism, talks of losing virginity unwillingly, the poor reader just going through it😭

A/n: My writing is kinda eh on this one but I got it done which is all that matters. Huge italicized sections mean like a little flashback in case you needed to know that. Based on an ask!

Masterlist

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She watched her guard lock the door behind him.

How long had she been stuck in this castle?

She felt used. Taken as a trophy and nothing more. Purely a way to show status.

Purely a way to show who won the war.

Cregan Stark had won the war. And now she was his.

He was kind and caring, quick to compassion and slow to anger. If not for the others, she could've seen this as a happy marriage.

But the others made that impossible.

For the door was not locked to keep her in, but to keep others out.

Cregan saw the very actions his people tried against her, and he was concerned. 

It didn't help that all of her dresses were green. A reminder of what had come to pass.

Anytime Cregan's back was turned, something happened to her. Whether it was harsh words, spitting at her feet, or even once a manhandling that almost turned into a mob.

Cregan knew she deserved better. She was kind. He hardly believed her to be a Hightower. At first glance that day in the Keep, he thought perhaps she was Aemond's wife, or another one of Aegon's whores he had always kept around.

But no. Aemond's twin sister.

…

He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when two men threw the woman to the ground in front of him.

Her dress was torn in places. Her hair was tangled and dirt ran from her temple to her chin, clearly having been thrown around a lot. She wiped the falling tears from her face with bruised hands. 

"What is this?" He asked the men. Others began to crowd around them to see what would become of her.

The men had only seen prostitutes along the path from the North to the Keep, and even those were few. Seeing a highborn lady was a rare sight.

"Found her hiding away," the man on her right commented.

Cregan sighed and reached down, pulling her chin up so he could look at her. He tipped her face from side to side, observing her. "And what did you hope I'd say when you threw a princess down at my feet? Did you expect me to reward you?"

The man paled. "Well, this is a traitor, my lord. Surely-"

"-Her only crime was the womb she was born from."

"She wear their colors still, Lord Stark-"

"Is she? I can hardly tell under the mud you've drug her through." He huffed, "I want you two out of my sight."

They looked at one another and nodded, moving to pick up the girl again. She jerked back in fear. 

"Leave her," he grumbled. "Well? Be gone. All of you!"

Slowly, they filed out of the room. "Are you gravely injured?" He asked softly.

"Not particularly, my lord," she whimpered.

He sighed and bent at the knee, joining her on the ground. "Did any of them truly put their hands on you? More than to drag you here?"

She wiped her face again, "Are you hoping to take my innocence, my lord?"

A noise involuntarily left his throat. "What?"

"I… It is yours. Just please don't harm me," she sniffled.

Any motion he made to comfort her, he pulled away as if burned. "I'm not going to do that."

"No, no please don't leave me to them," she begged when he pulled away. "Please don't let them have me. I'll do anything."

"They won't have you," he tried again. "Nothing more is going to happen to you. Now, go get redressed and come back. You're not leaving my side until I get this situated."

…

After a few hours, Cregan unlocked the door and entered their shared chambers. "My love?"

He cursed under his breath when he noticed she had fallen asleep on the bed. He wouldn't have been so loud had he known.

He sat on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. "Wake up, dear wife."

She hummed in discontent.

His lips pulled into a thin line. Things had gone especially wrong lately and it had begun to show in her actions. 

"C'mon." He began to pull her up. 

She whined and began to lean into him, tucking her face into his neck.

He chuckled, "I have something for you."

Her eyes opened, "Oh, do you?" 

…

There was outrage when Cregan took her as a wife. The North fought against the idea of having a Southern traitor as their Lady.

He had promised King Aegon III to be fair and just, and the boy said okay, knowing that he would stay honest to his word. 

But the North hated her all the same.

Cregan never considered to fear for her safety, for she was the Warden's wife, and he thought the people would know better than to touch her. 

That, and she hadn't told him of the things said right to her face when he wasn't around. She figured he knew. 

They walked through the city, her arm in his as he showed her around. She took in every sight she could, entranced by the culture of the North. 

But that also welcomed the stares.

Cregan had noticed them immediately, and he flipped her hood up. He didn't care about them, but he knew she would. So by doing so, he was hoping it would bring her a little more comfort. 

Anyone in Westeros would recognize that silver hair.

He leaned down just a bit. "Just tell me when you grow tired or cold."

She nodded, "May I go explore?"

He smiled, "So eager to get away from me?"

"No," she corrects.

"I'm only jesting. Go on."

She grinned and began to look around, trying to decide where to go first.

"Don't wander off too far," he remarked as he moved towards a lord to chat.

She nodded and went, walking a little further down the road. She looked back occasionally to make sure she was still in his line of sight. In doing so, she bumped into a woman harshly.

Y/n pulled back and apologized. "Forgive me!"

The woman set her basket down and straightened her skirt. "Foolish girl. Watch where you step next time."

"I do apologize." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a few coins. "Here. For your trouble."

The woman's eyes widened. She pulled the coins from her hand accusingly. "Where did you get these?" She hissed.

"Well… I… just from…" she turned back to where she could see Cregan. 

The woman grabbed her arm. "Did you steal these? Tell me where."

She jerked against the woman's movements. "No. No, I didn't."

"My lady, is this girl bothering you?" A tall man interfered, helping the woman.

The woman tilted her head, "She's throwing around coins like she's something of value. Look at 'er."

The man eyed her and reached up, pulling the princess' hood down. Their eyes widened. 

She turned to try to catch Cregan's attention, but the man pulled her to him. "A Targaryen, eh? The usurper's bitch sister, aren't you?"

"Please let me go," she whimpered.

"A green traitor in Winterfell? Seems the rumors were right."

She tried to pull her arm away, "Unhand me."

"Shut it, traitor scum."

"CREGAN!" She yelled out of instinct.

Cregan's head snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find her amidst the people that had begun to gather. But he couldn't see her. His worry grew and he began to step out into the crowd in hope of finding her.

She fought against the man's grip. She remembered this feeling of helplessness from only weeks before. "Stop! Please… Please, I'll do anything! Just stop!" 

Anyone around them was stopped now, onlooking or shouting at what was going on.

Cregan's jaw set as he figured she was in the midst of it, and he rolled his shoulders back.

"CREGAN!" He heard again, and that was all he needed.

He began to shove people to the side in an attempt to move through the mob that had begun to form. His angered shouts were drowned out.

Luckily, the Northern Warden was burly and built like a wall, so he was able to work through the crowd by sheer force alone. 

Once towards the middle, he finally saw her. 

The man held her tightly by her silver hair. Her hands were trying to lighten his harsh grip on her as she cried. She couldn't stop the others’ hands from pulling at her skirt or the way they spit at her, but she could at least try to stop the pain erupting from her scalp.

"ENOUGH!" Cregan yelled. He finally made it to them, and his hand gripped the man's throat tightly and he leaned down to his ear. "Unhand her."

She sunk to the ground and clutched at her dress.

Cregan kept his hand firm but looked out at the others that still surrounded them. "Leave." he growled through his teeth. "All of you." When no one moved, he threw the man to the ground and turned to them in rage. "LEAVE!"

One by one they left quietly. He looked down at the man. "May the gods have mercy on you, for I have none."

…

"Keep your eyes closed," he chuckled when she almost stumbled. "I've got you."

"How far must we go?"

"Almost there, I assure you."

After a while, he finally sat her down and instructed her to hold on her arms.

A heavy weight was placed in them. Something soft. Something moving.

"Open."

"A dire wolf?" Her eyes widened.

"Mere pup now, but a mighty predator later. I felt I owed you one."

She frowned, "You don't owe me a thing. I… I feel as if I owe you."

He couldn't stop a bright laugh from escaping his throat. "Hardly."

"Cregan," she began, trying to ignore the way the pup cuddled into her for warmth. "You have saved me time and time again. Without you, I would be in some brothel, or maimed by a man without heart, or…" her voice faltered, "Paraded through King's Landing as a true war prize. But I am not. I'm your wife instead. That is a fate I did not deserve."

"But I failed you. I promised to protect you, but I find that I cannot do that as well as I had hoped. This war was hard on my people. While I cannot fault them for their anger, it is wrong to use it on their Lady of Winterfell." His voice grew persistent. "You are mine. You are no Hightower anymore. You and I both know that."

She nodded and began to pet the wolf. "I pray that the North does one day."

"They will," he confirmed. "I shall make them if I must."

"I just don't want to be stuck in this room anymore. These walls are driving me mad," she admitted.

He sighed. "I'm sure they are. But soon you shall have a protector for when I cannot be there." He leaned down at pet the small pup on her lap. "This too will pass eventually."

"Once I give you an heir?"

"Once we have a child," he corrected, "I'm sure they shall be lighter on you."

"And until then?"

He smiled sweetly, "I'll do all I can. Now." He brushed hair from her face. "Please say you like it," he said as he looked down at the pup.

Only then did she let herself truly consider that she now had a dire wolf. "It's beautiful. I just…"

He held a finger up, "Enough of that. I promise you that I and this pup will not let another hand touch you."

She flushed lightly and smiled. "Thank you. I do not say that enough."

He shrugged. "You do, it just usually looks like other things instead."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he looked down at her dress, "wearing the dress that I had made for you is a thank you in and of itself. Blue suits you well. I could name things for all eternity. You are a perfect wife. And I admire you greatly."

"You've only known me seven moons."

"And that is seven moons enough to know."

"Cregan, I am a trophy of your accomplishments."

"You are hardly that."

She sighed, "But that is what they see me as."

"Do I?"

She considered his question. "I don't believe so."

"Then does it matter? I respect you, and with time, I will make sure they do as well."

She nodded and adjusted the dog in her arms. "Very well. I trust you."

He smiled and stood. "That's all I ask for. Now, name your pup and dress for supper. I'll come collect you myself. Is that alright?"

She nodded again.

"The North will like you," he left off with as he closed the door behind him.

She heard the lock behind him.

In time. 

In time.

Either they learn to like her, or they shall meet a Stark dire wolf closely.

The actual dire wolf or Cregan Stark, it didn't matter.

Their jaws would both equally snap at any threat.

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[moonstruckme]

hiii. congrats on 7k!! can i order an apple pie with ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek for stevee?? tysmm💗💗💗💗

Thank you!!

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 585 words

You’re proud of yourself for being able to even half follow the movie. You didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand, but the theater is dark and nearly empty except for a few teenagers several rows below you, and you should have known you were in for trouble when Steve picked a seat in the back corner. You keep trying to break things off and pay attention to the screen, but your lips come back to each other’s like magnets every time. 

Steve has shown no inclination to watch the movie, though you know he’d never pressure you if you indicated you didn’t want the distraction. You can feel the asking in the soft presses of his mouth each time you start up again, hi and do you want to and is this okay, all syrupy coke and the bite of the sour candies he’d eaten during the commercials. His hand has taken up permanent residence on your thigh, chaste but there. His torso stays turned toward you like a flower toward the sun. 

You open your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse of the screen. “Isn’t that her sister?” 

Steve indulges you, turning his attention in that direction. “Maybe they’re trying to take it in a love triangle direction?” he replies quietly.

“Ew, with the sister?” 

“I don’t know.” His whisper carries a familiar tone, like he can’t decide whether to be exhausted or amused by you. “Rom coms are weird.” 

“Oh, wait.” You perk up. “He’s asking the sister for her ring size. Are they getting married?” 

“Well, it’s probably the end of the movie. Getting close to a couple hours now.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby.” Steve seems to decide on amusement. 

You exhale softly, dismayed, and he rubs your thigh consolingly. “I can’t believe we missed the whole thing,” you say.

“We can catch it again, if you want. Or just stay for the next showing.” 

“Will we get to actually watch this time?” 

Steve drops his head to your shoulder, puffing air down your arm. “If you really wanna,” he says reluctantly. 

You smile where he can’t see you. “Why did you agree to this one if you didn’t even want to watch it?” 

“Because you wanted to.” He kisses your shoulder, a quick peck. 

You make him sit up when the lights come on. His hair is mussed slightly, and when he gets a look at you a grin splits his face. 

“Oh, c’mere.” He puts himself between you and the rest of the theater, wiping at something near your lips. 

“What?” 

“You’ve got lipstick all over you.” 

Your eyes widen, and you look at his mouth. Kiss-swollen, with a dark rim you can see even with his face cast in shadow. 

“Oh my god, it’s on you too. I forgot I was wearing it.” 

“Shit, can you get it? It’s not coming off of you. What is this shit, bulletproof?” 

“Supposed to be smearproof,” you mumble. You thumb at his top lip, but the color stays stuck. You can hear the teens chatting as they file out behind him. “I don’t know how we got it all over.” 

“We’re just that good,” Steve mutters, but his tone is less humorous than bitter. After a few more seconds, he gives up. “Okay.” He gets up, grabbing your trash and his jacket. “We’re just going to have to get it off in the bathroom.”

You’re horrified. “But everyone will see.” 

“I work here. Trust me, we’ve seen worse.”

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

‘the black bastard of the wall’ moniker is the exact opposite of the ‘white wolf’ moniker and this perfectly highlights the irreconcilable differences between book Jon and show Jon

[l4ndonorizz]

q&a stream gets personal (chat edition) / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: san holo - bring back the color

summary: a lighthearted Q&A stream between you and lando quickly turns serious when fan questions push you both to reveal long-hidden feelings, leading to a conversation that changes everything.

wc: 1.5k

The stream had been going for over thirty minutes now. You and Lando were sitting comfortably in front of the camera, bantering like you always did, making light of the fan questions. At first, everything felt easy—laughs, inside jokes, playful jabs—but you could feel the questions starting to shift, becoming more personal with every scroll through the chat.

Lando, as usual, was taking the lead. He leaned in, his eyes scanning the chat for the next question. “Alright, next one! This one’s for you,” he said, turning to you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “‘What’s the one thing that annoys you most about me?’”

You laughed, grateful for the harmless question, though your mind was still spinning from some of the bolder ones that had come up earlier. “That’s easy—how you can never decide what to eat when we hang out. You’re so indecisive.”

Lando gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest as if he’d been personally wounded. “It’s called being considerate! I don’t want to pick the wrong place and have you hate me for it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, the ease returning to your voice. “Or maybe you just can’t make a decision.”

The chat lit up with laughing emojis and comments like “classic Lando” and “indecision king!” The conversation felt light again—for a moment, anyway. But then, Lando scrolled again, and his eyes locked on a question that made your stomach flip.

“This one’s for me,” he read aloud, his voice quieter now. “‘What’s the sweetest thing she’s ever done for you?’”

Your heart skipped a beat. The question hung in the air, and you could tell Lando was thinking, actually thinking, about how to answer. The playful energy between you shifted slightly, making the room feel smaller, more intimate.

“Well…” Lando started, pausing to look at you for a moment before turning back to the camera. “There was this one time when I got sick after a race, and she brought me soup and stayed the whole night to take care of me. That was pretty sweet.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly. You hadn’t expected him to bring that up, and the chat was going wild—spamming heart emojis and teasing comments like “aww, they’re so cute!” and “best friends or something more?”

You waved dismissively, laughing it off. “I’m just a good friend. That’s what good friends do.”

Lando turned to you, his smile softening. “Yeah, the best.”

His words sent a flutter through your chest, but you laughed nervously, pushing it aside. The chat wasn’t helping either, with more comments pouring in, speculating about your relationship. You tried to keep your composure, but the tension was beginning to creep in, a subtle shift in the air that neither of you could ignore.

Lando scrolled down again, and this time, the question he read out loud made the temperature in the room rise by several degrees.

“Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, glancing at you with a grin. “‘Do you guys think you’d make a good couple?’”

Your heart stopped. The chat was immediately flooded with excited comments, but all you could hear was the pounding in your ears. You glanced at Lando, expecting him to laugh it off, but his expression was more serious than you expected. He didn’t look uncomfortable—just thoughtful.

“I think we would,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent that made your breath catch.

You turned to him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it cool, but you could see the nervousness creeping in behind his grin. “I mean, why not? We get along great, we always have fun, and…” He paused, glancing at you, his smile faltering just a bit. “I think we’d be good together.”

The chat erupted. Fans were spamming “I KNEW IT!” and “FINALLY!” along with a torrent of heart emojis and comments begging for more details. But you couldn’t focus on the screen. All you could focus on was Lando sitting next to you, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

Your heart pounded as you swallowed hard. “Are you… serious?”

Lando’s smile softened, and he shrugged again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I mean… we’ve always gotten along so well. I’ve thought about it before.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and suddenly the lighthearted Q&A session felt too intimate, too real. You were aware of the camera recording, the thousands of people watching, and yet all of it seemed to fade into the background as the tension between you and Lando grew.

Before you could respond, Lando scrolled again, trying to move on from the tension, but the next question hit even harder.

“‘Have you ever had feelings for her?’” he read aloud, his voice now much quieter.

The chat was frozen, waiting for his response, and so were you. You didn’t dare breathe as you watched him process the question. For a moment, Lando looked like he might dodge it, make a joke out of it, but then he surprised you.

“Uh… yeah,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean… I’ve thought about it. More than once.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. The world felt like it had stopped spinning. Lando was still looking at the camera, but his gaze kept flickering toward you, gauging your reaction. The chat had exploded again, but you couldn’t process any of it. All you could think about was how you had just crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Lando turned to you, his eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before—vulnerability. “Yeah… well, I didn’t really know how to bring it up. Until now, I guess.”

The chat was full of comments, pushing for more, but the two of you sat in an awkward, loaded silence. You felt your pulse racing, and for the first time since the stream started, you had no idea what to say. Everything felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

Lando, sensing the tension, tried to move things along. “Let’s, uh… let’s move on to the next one.”

He scrolled quickly, but the chat had taken on a life of its own, and the questions weren’t letting up. The next one made the tension nearly unbearable.

“‘Do you regret anything in your friendship?’” Lando read aloud, his voice quieter again.

You swallowed, the weight of the question pressing down on you. Lando turned to look at you, his expression serious now, no trace of the lighthearted banter that had carried you through the stream earlier.

“I…” you started, unsure of what to say. The chat was waiting, Lando was waiting, and you could feel the nerves bubbling up inside you. “I don’t regret our friendship; I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But…”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed. “But what?”

You fidgeted with your hands, the tension between you almost suffocating. You could feel the words building in your throat, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to say them—not here, not now, in front of all these people.

“I guess I regret… not being more honest,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the vulnerability still lingering in his gaze. For the first time during the stream, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. The chat, the cameras, the fans—it all faded away. All that mattered was the way Lando was looking at you, waiting.

“Honest about what?” he asked gently, his voice careful, as if he was afraid of pushing too far.

You hesitated, your heart racing. You knew the answer, and so did he. But saying it out loud felt like crossing a line that neither of you could come back from.

“I just…” you started, your voice shaking slightly. “I’ve never told you how much you mean to me.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback by your admission. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you trailed off, glancing away as the tension became too much to bear. “I care about you. A lot. More than just… as a friend.”

The room felt like it had gone completely silent, except for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Lando stared at you, processing what you’d just said, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Finally, Lando let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I care about you too.”

The chat was exploding with heart emojis and comments, but none of that mattered anymore. The air between you was thick with the weight of everything you’d just revealed, and for the first time, it felt like you were both being completely honest with each other.

Lando gave you a small, nervous smile. “Well… I guess that’s one way to wrap up a Q&A stream.”

You laughed, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah… not what I expected.”

The chat was still buzzing, but all you could focus on was the way Lando was looking at you—as if everything had just changed between you, and maybe, for the better.

[aritsukemo]

I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the glaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flatter, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[bunnygirllover45]

— VIVISECTION IS ANOTHER WAY OF SPELLING LOVE. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Graphical descriptions of the body, Seth wants to study you like you're a computer or something, MC has few to no dialogue, gender neutral MC. Very bizarre at certain points. Medical bullshit and philosophical stuff. Bad English.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 1,6k words. (This one is a long mf)

The nights always brought the same dream with them; four walls and a room that belonged to an old movie, the walls were decorated with shelves filled with pots, pots with colorful flowers on them, some of them were carelessly placed on top of each other, pressing on top of the poor flower that was under the crushing weight of the other.

This room only had two big windows that illuminated the whole room, illuminating it in a red hue, no matter how much you tried to stare out the window nothing but red was visible. It seemed like if you stared too much into that void for a second, it would swallow you whole, making you part of the bloody landscape.

The furniture was scarce. A table, something that resembled a bookshelf that contained a few books, but the letters were illegible to you since you couldn’t move from your assigned seat; a chair by the aforementioned table. In the center of the table, was a small vase filled with fresh poppies.

The ambiance was a little theatrical, to be honest, you couldn’t even imagine someone living in a place like this, it didn’t look like a place where you could have plants either, most of them were placed against a wall all the way in the back of the room, shrouded by darkness. Not even the crimson light from the window could reach them.

“The light of this place isn’t good for them, I have checked it countless times. Instead of giving them life, it kills them.” You heard the voice of your companion seated in front of you, and when you turned your face to look at him you found the crimson again, but it wasn’t from the window this time, it was from his eyes.

Red. Red. It looked like it wanted to swallow you whole. Those spirals were like the circles of hell, one by one looking at your movements with caution. You tried to answer his words, maybe with a question, maybe with an affirmation, but it was always complicated talking when you entered this ‘dream’ and Seth knew it.

“You know.” he started. 

Standing up from his seat and dragging his fingers across the wood of the table he began to circle it, never breaking eye contact for a second. “I have been reading some very interesting books lately.” he continued, his voice dragging across the whole place with an ominous echo to it, which was impossible due to the small size of the place. “They're medicine books, vivisections, that’s what they call it.” a small smile formed on his lips.

“Vivisections?” you managed to ask, your voice merely a whisper. Seth sharpened his gaze, pleased with the sweet sound of your voice, and then he nodded. 

“Yes, vivisection. It’s like… taking an organism that’s still alive and opening it, to learn how they function on the inside.” 

Seth continued, his leather gloves dragging across the table from side to side while he continued to circle the table, like a vulture, though it looked like a mere distraction, a small gesture he did while talking. It didn’t stop it from being spine-chilling though, the elegance in his movements wasn’t natural. “It seemed interesting to me, sounds nasty, it probably is.” he laughed.

One blink was enough to make him disappear from your sight, but when you felt two hands resting on top of your shoulders you knew he was still there. “Seth?” you called out his name, and he responded with a gentle squeeze against your frame, then you felt his hot breathing against your ear, it made you shiver.

“I’m here,” he reassured, you couldn’t see his expression but you were pretty sure he was still smiling, it was rare to see him without that grin on his face. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”

His petition made you nervous, the fact you couldn’t even turn to look at him worsened the uneasy feeling, your survival instinct screaming for you to not close your eyes, to not give in. But Seth was always good with you every time you came here, so why not? “Please.” Seth whispered against your ear when he noticed you still didn’t close your eyes, the sound of his voice so close it made you tremble.

Going against all common sense you closed your eyes. Feeling Seth’s hands pulling away from your shoulders you almost opened them again unconsciously, but for some reason, it was like they were closed shut by an invisible force, heavy like lead.

“How obedient. How precious. This is one of the many reasons why I like you.” 

First, you felt his gloved hands on your face, the sensation now multiplied thanks to one of your senses being removed, the leather felt softer, the sounds louder, and Seth’s breathing hotter. “The brain is like the body’s computer, an insistent and adaptive little thing, it’s truly fascinating.” 

“I think your mind is the thing I like the most about you. From the small unconscious movements you make while you’re asleep to the most trivial conversations are born in this beautiful place. It never stops to amaze me.” 

Now his voice came from the right, his fingers slipping from your face to your back, your breathing quickening as soon as you felt his hands slipping under your clothes, Seth traced invisible circles on the now exposed skin. “From here I can feel your breathing, you moved a little, do my gloves feel cold?” 

Seth removed his hands and the next second you could feel the touch of his fingertips on top of your skin, it seemed like he had taken off his gloves. “Better~?”

His voice sounded a little playful. “Skin-to-skin contact is even more pleasurable, no? I imagine having your eyes closed makes the experience even more intense.” 

“I can hear your breathing more clearly. Your lungs are closer to my hands.” And you could feel his breathing, even hearing how we swallowed heavily, like trying to hold back any unwanted sounds from escaping. “What a celestial sound.”

“If I put my mouth on top of you right now I could kiss you until you ran out of air. Then you wouldn’t have any other option than breathing the air I give you, that way each particle of oxygen that enters your system would have my name written on it.”

You tried to move, expecting your legs to crash against the table in front of you, but again. you couldn’t move, but you could feel like… everything around you disappeared for a second.

“You like that? You want that?” And when you heard Seth’s voice coming from in front of you it was unmistakable, everything felt like a small space where only you and Seth existed. “Ask me. Ask me and I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything.” 

Then everything fell silent, eerily silent. Then his hands felt like they were back again in all the places he previously touched at the same time, your face, your back, your shoulders, his touch was hot, enveloping you like he wanted to swallow you, like the red color outside the window, like the red in his eyes.

“Here.” His fingers moved like snakes against the skin in your chest, you took a deep breath unconsciously, and Seth laughed. “Here’s your heart.” 

“Sometimes I want to push my fingers under your skin, I don’t want to hurt you, of course I don’t, but I would love to see how beautiful you’re from the inside.”

“Like a computer with all its parts exposed, I would like to grab them and build you again like a puzzle, no — like a beautiful statue.” 

Now his fingers moved up and down across your skin, just like the way he had touched the table before, it seemed like he had anticipated this moment from much before, what a macabre little thing his brain was. “Mhm…” you felt Seth’s soft hair against your chest, he was drinking the sound of your heart beating like he was in the middle of the desert and you were the most beautiful oasis. “This sound is even more beautiful.” 

“It’s beating fast, the little thing, how adorable. Is it fear? Is it love? What kind of feeling is accelerating your beautiful core? Is it me? It must be me, there’s no one else here.” 

“Hey, do you love me?” You couldn’t answer, Seth knew that. “I love you too, I love you too much.” 

“I want to grab you in between my arms and squeeze you so hard you’d break, I’ll kiss each piece while I put you back together. I would call you my most beautiful creation, there’s nothing more charming than being God’s favorite creation, no?” 

Now his voice didn’t come from the left nor the right, it felt like you were being enveloped by him, all your senses, your body, Seth wanted to kill you with soft caresses and sweet whispers of eternal devotion. He wanted to swallow you. He wanted to vivisection you.

“When you wake up from this, please remember my touch, remember these sensations, remember our vivisection. You’ll give me that, right?” 

“When you come back I’ll be waiting, I promise I’ll hug you so sweetly you’ll never want to wake up again. I’ll give you a paradise so sweet you’ll want to poison yourself in it.” 

Finally, you opened your eyes, but you weren’t in that eerie room, nor was Seth there anymore. You stared at the sheets of your bed, everything looked too white, it made your eyes hurt. Taking a deep breath you held your hand against your chest.

You could still feel him there. His touch was still present, tingling against your skin.

And when your eyes fell to the skin of your chest you could see it better, the red marks, like the light coming from the light from that room, like the color of the blood flowing through your veins.

The marks of Seth’s fingers were still there, in your skin.

[slushycoookie]

Between Two Worlds ~ Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader (Pt.5)

★ Word Count: 3.9k

★ Content: Miguel is so smitten, it's serious. You two also go on a few more dates. The topic of the nature of your relationship comes up. Dana appears...again...

★ A/N: Hey, hey sorry this chapter took so long to come out. And is short! But I wanted to make sure I put this out before I start Kinktober. So enjoy!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩Prev | Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the date last night.

Even as he mindlessly scanned the row of paint cans, looking at his phone for the exact color his mother wanted. Eggshell white and Bahama blue. Yet, he was seeing none of those colors.

It didn't help that his mind kept lingering on you. Reminding himself about how pretty you looked last night. Your beautiful body hugging that dress. How soft you were when you kissed, taking in your full lips to sear it into his memory. It took Miguel almost a hour to convince himself to remove the trace of lipstick from his lips when he settled down last night.

He missed you. He wanted to see you again.

It was clear you did too when you sent him a voice message this morning, saying those words after the usual good morning. Your voice low as if you just woke up, but still sounding just as beautiful.

Miguel needed to focus. His mother wouldn't tolerate him messing around in the store, especially since the exact colors he was looking for were in front of his face the whole time.

He couldn't help but be grateful to his mother for giving him something to do. Otherwise, Miguel would be lying in bed thinking about you all day. He needed you to occupy his space day and night. Be close to you. Touch you.

It gets so bad he wonders what it would be like if you helped him shop.

Would you be able to tell the difference between the paint colors his mom wanted? Would you start looking at colors yourself to prepare for your house? Miguel would be on board to help you, making sure you don’t carry anything heavy. He didn’t want your nails to break. He’s sure you’d wear something on the verge of cute and comfortable during the shopping trip. And he’d try not to stare while he was picking out paintbrushes.

Miguel had to do another date with you soon, or else he’d do something drastic.

He dropped off the materials his mother needed, not wanting to be there longer than he had to. Miguel didn’t want to get into the reason why she was fixing up the house. He caulked it up as her wanting not to mourn for her abusive husband.

Conchata checked off the list as Miguel brought the items inside the house. He wasn’t listening when his phone vibrated. He wondered if it was you. He hoped it was you.

“What's going on with you?”

He freezes when placing the paint cans by the wall in the house.

“What? Nothing.”

“I could've sworn I saw you walk faster.”

“No, I didn't.” Miguel glances at all the materials, paint, caulk to patch up the walls, some roller brushes, etc. Enough to start the home improvement process. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so.”

His eyes land on the tarp on the floor, “You’re not planning to do all of this by yourself, right?”

“I’m not. I hired some people to do it for me. All I have to do is push them around.”

Miguel tries not to shake his head when she holds up swatches along the wall. “Call me if you need anything else.”

He gave her a gentle kiss against her head before taking his leave. When he did so, he checked his phone and felt disappointed when it was just a notification reminding him of the time he went to the museum with Dana. The picture showed both of them at a high-end event, with neutral smiles and dressed up.

When he dated Dana, there was a vast difference between you and her.

Although the incident with her wasn't fresh in his mind anymore, he still remembered what it was like being with her. When they were engaged, everything was relaxed and quiet despite them taking the next steps in their lives.

You were the opposite.

Not chaotic, but ecstatic about the newfound relationship status.

You'd send him messages while Miguel was at work, telling him to have a good day with a swarm of emojis. You'd send him more voice messages, which're filled with various topics. About your own day, what you saw while browsing social media, and he'd listen. You reciprocated too when inviting him to talk about his interests and his day.

Dana hardly did any of that. She'd settle on a good morning before not getting into much detail about her day. Almost bored about the topic. Her eyes were on the verge of disinterest whenever Miguel had a chance to talk about himself.

Then there were the dates.

Dana was more fond of high-end luxuries like five-star restaurants, museums, and theaters. The more expensive, the better. Miguel didn’t have problems with it; he was known to indulge in those pleasantries from time to time. But with you, it was the opposite.

The two of you went to the mall.

You insisted that hanging out for a few hours and window shop would be fun. Miguel figured you'd want to go into one of the luxury stores to browse. Only for you to hardly go into any of them.

He watches you point at a cute handbag on display or dazzling shoes that would fit with your aesthetic at the club. So imagine his surprise when you walk away to look at something else instead of buying it.

“I thought you liked it.”

“I do…” Your eyes skim across more pretty shoes, “But I don't need them.”

“You want them though.” You shrug, and he steps into your line of sight. “I can buy them for you.”

“No, don't do that. I'm good.”

You try to get out of the shoe aisle, but Miguel blocks your path. “I want to. I'm your boyfriend. I want to give you nice things.”

“Did you not see the price tag?” You return to the shoes and pick them up, the price of almost two hundred dollars. “I've rarely bought shoes for that price.”

“I got it.” Miguel takes the shoes, but you hold them close to your chest.

“Hold up. If you buy something for me, I'll buy something for you.”

“I don't need anything.” He tries to take your shoes again, but you turn away.

“You don't have to need anything. But if there's something you want, I'll get it.”

“No, really I'm good-”

“I'm not taking no for an answer, baby.”

Miguel sucks his teeth before agreeing with your proposal. You squeal, more excited to continue your trek around the mall, your new goal being to buy him something he wants.

Dana hardly offered to buy him anything the whole time they were together. She did go out of her away to buy him things, mainly chains or designer watches, but that's for his birthday or Christmas. Not during a random day of the week.

You pointed out multiple stores that fits Miguel’s aesthetic. He decided to go into one that had button down shirts he liked to wear for work. As he browsed through the shirt racks, eyes were on him. Yours were following his movements, ready to grab a shirt that caught his eye.

“How's this?” Miguel holds up a powder blue shirt and you inspect it.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let's get it!”

He can finally relax when satisfying you with his choice, but you notice the tag. “Wait, it's only thirty bucks.”

Miguel also glances at it, “Oh, is that too much? I can get something else-”

“Miguel.” You give him a look, “First off, don't insult me like that again. Secondly, you just spent two hundred dollars on me, which is not the same.”

“Oh.” He looks at the shirt and then back at you. “So, I can get a few more?”

“Yeah, you can.”

Miguel puts more effort into his search. He gets a few more shirts, but the total is still less than what he spent on you. You don't say anything as he thanks you with a bright smile.

Taking a quick break by eating at the food court, Miguel's phone vibrates from Gabriel's message. Without completely looking at it yet, his eyes roll at knowing what the message was going to say, asking the daily question of when he was going to meet you. Sure, it's been two months since he started dating you, but he didn't want to rush you.

Miguel tried to hide his disdain by so much as you were feeding him macaroons. His lips grazing your fingers while taking a bite. Your thumb wiping off the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. Your eyes connecting and you shoot him a wink, the action shooting down to his lower body. He gets a strong urge to pull you back to the car so he can kiss you all over.

He groans when the phone vibrates against the table again.

“Is there a fire somewhere?”

“The fire being my brother. He keeps texting me about wanting to meet you. I keep telling him it depends on when you want to.”

You take a sip from your Boba tea before outstretching your hand. “Gimme.”

As Miguel places his phone in your palm, you casually press video call.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm saying hi to your brother.” You hold up the phone, making sure you were decent for the camera. When the call connects, you flash the biggest smile on the planet. “Hi, Gabriel.”

“Hi? Uh, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

You purse your lips, “He’s munching on some macaroons. Say hi, Miguel.” You briefly turn the phone to Miguel, making him wave before turning the phone back to you.

“Oh. My. God. You're who my brother is dating? Do you know how many times I've been asking to meet you?”

Too many times.

“A lot. It's okay though I've been wanting to meet you too. You're the main one blowing up his phone.”

“Somebody’s gotta do it-Hey, babe!” Gabriel shouts through the phone, making you and Miguel snort. “Come here real quick and meet Miguel’s girl!”

You're laughing when Kasey approaches the phone, waving hello to her.

“Whoa, you're the woman who's dating Miguel? Damn, you're hot.”

Gabriel held his hands up. “My girlfriend said it, not me.”

“Okay, that's enough out of you two.” Miguel reaches for the phone, but is stopped by Gabriel's protest.

“No, wait not until Xina sees her! I know she's not busy. She just told me she was binging that zombie show.”

“Ooh is it the one where if you die, you come back as a zombie?” You ask and Gabriel snaps.

“Yes! That's the one.”

“I lost interest after season four.” Kasey inputs.

“I liked that season!” You add in, “In my opinion, it goes downhill after season eight.”

To Miguel’s surprise, Xina picks up, seeing a bunch of faces on the screen.

“Didn’t I tell you not to bother me because I'm vegging out on my couch?”

“Stop vegging out and meet Miguel’s girlfriend.”

You wave once more, “Hi! It's very nice to meet you.”

“Oh, likewise.” Xina sits up, angling herself to not subject you to her binging phase.

“I'm sorry they sprung this on you. I just wanted to say hi.”

“It's fine. Maybe this will get Gabri to shut up for a while.”

“It won't.” Gabriel interjected, “Because I'm not able to touch you yet. Give you one of my famous hugs.”

“You don't want that.” Miguel whispered over to you.

“Huh? What did he say?”

“Nothing!” You change the conversation: "I want to meet you guys too. It would be best if you all came to the club. Enjoy yourselves.”

Xina raises an eyebrow, “You'd invite us to your job?”

“Yeah. There's good drinks, food…”

“And half-naked dancers.”

“Well, that too.”

Xina lets out an unsure hum, and Miguel slots himself back into the conversation.

“Okay, we have to go now.”

“Aww no.” Gabriel pouts.

“Send me your number!” Kasey shouts. "We have to put you in the group chat!”

“Okay.” You say goodbye to them all before hanging up and giving him back his phone. “They seem nice.”

“They act worse than this.”

“But they love you. That’s always nice to have.”

Miguel couldn’t hold back his smile when you slip your fingers through his across the table, creating small circles on the back of his hand.

The anxiety he never knew he had lessened after you took the initiative to meet his family. And he wasn’t worried about the face-to-face meeting after the positive reception you received from everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

“She seems nice.” Xina said through the phone call.

Miguel nods as if she can see him, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel after dropping you off, “She is. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

“Me too…” He notices her trailing off, and anxiety starts pooling in his stomach.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Not that serious.”

“Well, I’m suspecting it as the way you trailed off.”

Xina hums and he hears movement on the other line. “I’m just wondering, how is your relationship going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and your dancer. You two are dating now. And you blow a lot of money when you go over there.”

“It’s not a lot of money.” Miguel mumbles, “Well, we’re acting like everything is normal. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

When Miguel steps foot in the club, he tries to act like his usual self. A customer who wasn’t dating one of the dancers. It was for the best since you didn’t want anyone to find out. Especially Jess.

“I get that, but you know your relationship can be seen as…odd.”

“Odd? What do you mean by that?”

Xina remains silent. How convenient when he’s at a stop light, hanging on to every word she said to him so far. His hands getting clammy against the wheel.

“Miguel, you have a fairly decent, well, almost powerful position at a huge company. And you’re dating someone who shakes their ass at a popular nightclub. You also give them a lot of money in exchange for what, a private dance? Please tell me you’re catching on to what I’m saying.”

He almost crashed into a car at the realization. After swerving into the right lane and reassuring Xina, who panicked, Miguel pulled over to gather his thoughts. He didn’t pick up on the slight power imbalance you two had when you started dating. Miguel thought it was harmless.

“I-I’m not taking advantage of her or using her. Does it look that way? Oh god, it does look that way.”

“It can also appear that she’s using you or taking advantage with you. Because of your money. I brought this up with you before. When you told me Dana was buying a bunch of expensive stuff when you got that head geneticist job-”

“I told you Dana isn’t like that. And neither is she.” During your first meeting, you weren’t adamant on taking more of his money. Sure, he knows about you wanting to save up for a house, and part of his money is being contributed to said house. Miguel didn’t think like that.

“Okay, fine. You know her more than me. I still think it’s best to clear up any confusion by having a conversation. So you two are on the same page.”

Xina was right. Having a conversation would help you two in the long run, especially when your relationship starts to get serious.

He tried to call you when he got home, but you didn’t pick up. You were probably still too busy at the club. That was for the best since the conversation was better to have face-to-face.

The next time, Miguel’s stomach twisted when he sat down in the private room.

You greeted him with a wave, closing the door behind you. The click from your heels matched the pounding in his head. He rubbed the sweat from his palms against his pants, holding in the urge to throw up. As you picked up the remote to decide a song, he grabbed your hand.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah. Let me pick a song first-”

“No, no song.”

You squint, “What do you mean ‘no song’? What’s wrong?”

“Am I taking advantage of you?” Miguel blurted out. He didn’t give you a chance to speak as he continued, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize my position would make our relationship odd. And I’m realizing that I’ve still been paying you a bunch of money since we started dating and I know you’re trying to buy a house, but I don’t want anyone to suspect you’re using me to help you buy one, which I know is not your intention-”

You silence him with a kiss. He accepts, his shoulders relaxing when he tastes your mango-scented lip gloss. You look directly into his deep eyes when you pull an inch away.

“Calm down.”

“Okay.”

You toss the remote to the side. “You’re not taking advantage of me and I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“But I give you almost a thousand every week.”

“You do, but I didn’t ask you to do that. That’s all you.”

“Because I want to support you. Now, I realize that throwing money for you to give me dances isn’t the best look. And we’re dating so…”

“I don’t care.” You say, hand on your hip. “Our positions don’t matter. I like you. You like me. What’s the problem?”

“I’m giving you money every time I come here.”

“So stop coming here if you have a problem with it.”

“I…”

He can’t. Seeing you in your element is one of the highlights of his week. What else was he supposed to do if he didn’t see you as much with your job? Miguel loves the dates he goes on with you, but he also enjoys watching you dance.

“I’m sorry.” You run your hand through his hair. Miguel leans into your touch, soothing the impending vomit in his throat. “I don’t want you to stop coming, but I don’t know what to do if you’re struggling like this. You know how Jess is about people not spending money in here.”

Miguel lights up.

“Can I speak to Jess?”

Your face twists with confusion, “Why?”

“I have an idea.”

Jess was in her office, in the back of The Weave, right near the locker rooms for the dancers. When you knocked, the door opened to Kaine, another of Jess’s security. Miguel always thought he was more intimidating due to the scar on his face and the buzz cut. He pays both of you no mind when he brushes aside you two.

“Jess? Your favorite customer wants to speak to you.”

“Which one?” Jess peers up from her computer, lighting up when Miguel comes into view, “Oh, Mr. Science Guy! What you need?” Miguel glances over at you and you give him the ok sign, leaving to return to the floor. “You finally gonna tell me that you’re dating one of my dancers?”

His eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know that?”

“You and Silk be giving cute glances at each other every five minutes. And don’t forget the private rooms have cameras.”

Miguel cleared his throat, not expecting to get hit what that. Now, he wasn’t sure if the idea he came up with was going to work.

“I really like her.”

“And that’s fine. As long as y’all don’t fuck in the club, I don’t care what you two do.” He nods at her words. “I will say this though. If you hurt my girl and you decide to show your sorry ass in the club, I will ban you for life and kick you to the curb.”

He gulped, fixing the collar on his shirt. “I understand.”

“Good.” Jess's tough demeanor returns to relaxed. "Now, what did you want to talk about?”

Miguel pulls out a grand and places it on the table. “Is it okay if I pay you this amount weekly? This is the same amount I give to Silk when I come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Jess inspects the money, letting the bills fly across her thumb. “What’s the deal?”

“I want to keep coming here, but I don’t feel comfortable handing money directly to Silk since we are…an item. I still want to support your business and the dancers so, would that be enough?”

“Did you two fuck yet?”

“Huh? N-No! No, we didn’t…”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you weren’t pussy whipped.” She places the money to the side, “That’s fine, but what do you get out of this?”

Miguel plays with the ends of his shirt, “I still want those forty-five minutes with her.”

“…that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jess stares at him, inspecting his frame. The silence between them lingers as the pulsing beat from the club bangs against the walls. Miguel’s palms start to coat with sweat again, and he casually rubs them against his pants.

“Okay. You got a deal.”

He shifts with his feet. “O-Oh okay. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She shakes his hand as if this was the start of a profitable business deal.

Now, everything was perfect.

You two have stabilized the foundation of your relationship. Miguel just arranged plans for his family, excluding his mother to meet you at The Weave for an official meet and greet. And he was going to ask you if you wanted to go to the Banquet with him.

A brief doubt occurred that maybe it was too soon since the relationship was new. You could always say no. He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable.

He wishes you could see the smile on his face when you text him saying yes. Your messages are filled with excited GIFs and reaction pictures.

“You're very happy today.” Dana interrupts and Miguel quickly puts his phone away.

“I-It's a good day today. Got a decent amount of work done…”

“Because Tyler stopped messing with you. I told him to lay off on you since you do so much.”

Miguel was too busy being happy about his relationship to realize that Tyler hasn’t bothered him lately.

“Really?”

Her nod and smug face said it all. “Even after everything, I'm still looking after you.”

“Thanks…” He moved over, letting her pour enough coffee into her mug. While passing her the usual cream and sugars, their hands brushed together. Miguel's muscles tensed while Dana giggled at the sudden contact.

“You excited about the banquet? Sure, it's about a month away, but…”

“I am. Even though it's work-related, it'd be nice to get away for the weekend.”

Dana nods, taking a sip of her coffee while Miguel pours himself another cup.

“Are you going to be okay?” His brows furrow at her question. “I mean, we usually go together every year since you started working here. I know it's going to be a change.”

Miguel holds back a grin, “Yeah, yeah I'll be okay.”

Tags: @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings

@bajbr @freehentai @chubbybyunnie

@ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour

@imamexican @tatatida @aphinthestars

@bluesidez @saintdiior @prettygirleli

@twinkdrakez @vicravluv @brown-eyed-thang

@peachipeachy @sonicbutbutter @mermaidian02

@celi-xxmoon @roserfz27 @hellokittyloverrxox

@sweeetas @avengersinitiative2012

[cottonlemonade]

Being MSBY’s Single Dad

word count: 1055 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Meian x chubby!Reader (feat. Sakusa)

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

Sakusa had been in a foul mood for some time now but today it reached its pinnacle.

Two weeks ago he had twisted his ankle during training and since he had quite the history of downplaying any injuries and then suffering their consequences, Meian decided to accompany him on his latest checkup, very much ignoring Sakusa’s protests. The captain leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed and a small smile on his face as he watched you bend and knead Sakusa‘s foot with gentle proficiency. The younger man grimaced barely noticeably when you pressed your palm flat against his sole, but upon his wince let up the pressure immediately.

“You‘ll sit this next one out.“, you said firmly, writing something in his chart.

“It‘s not that bad. I can play no problem. I just have to warm up.“

“Ah, you heard what she said. Doctor‘s orders.“

“She isn‘t even a doctor.“, Sakusa mumbled under his breath.

“Rude!“, Meian scolded.

“True though.“, both you and Sakusa replied in unison and the captain grinned when you added pointedly, “However, as your lowly physiotherapist I will give you some more stretches to do. It‘s better than last time but give yourself another week and you‘ll be as good as new.“

You took a seat at your desk, writing down a short list of daily exercises, adding quick sketches for demonstration. As you did, Meian detached himself from the cabinet and walked over to Sakusa to help him back into his shoe, which he reluctantly allowed.

“And while you‘re at it, be nicer to the others.“

“You still haven‘t made up?“, you turned around and looked at Sakusa incredulously.

“If it wasn‘t for these idiots this never would have happened.“, he noted sharply.

“True, but they did apologize.“, Meian reminded him, “Multiple times.“ You hid your chuckle at his tone, very reminiscent of a dad trying to explain to his son the concept of forgiveness.

“They‘re idiots. They deserve to stew.“

“Wait, you had such a colorful way to describe them when you came in last time.“, you tapped your chin with your pen in thought, trying to remember, “I believe you called them “a bunch of orange cats whose brains are powered by a singular, already dim lightbulb“, am I right?“

Meian hid his snort in the palm of his hand, then rolled his shoulders and tied the shoelace as he cleared his throat.

“Please don‘t say that in front of Bokuto. His hair hasn‘t been the same since the accident.“

Sakusa clicked his tongue in annoyance and let Meian help him off the exam table.

“Here.“, you stood up and handed him two notes, “This is for some new painkillers, take them when needed but no more than three a day and these are the new exercises. Do them every morning and every night before bed and if it‘s not better in 3 to 5 days come see me again. Aaaand-“ You opened a desk drawer and took out a bright yellow lollipop.

“What‘s that?“

“All the good kids get one.“, you shrugged and smiled.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, snatched the lollipop nonetheless, and limped over to the door.

“You coming?“, he asked, hand on the handle.

“Wait in the car. I wanna get my shoulder checked out.“

“I‘m not some kid. I‘ll get a taxi.“

“If you wait for me, we can get ice cream on the way back!“, Meian called after him.

“Whatever.“, Sakusa pulled the door closed behind him, leaving you and the captain alone to burst into laughter.

“How do you manage them?“, you sighed and shook your head, then looked at him expectantly, “So, what‘s up with your shoulder?“

“Dunno, can‘t quite get my movement radius like usual.“, he swung his arm back and forth until it wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, “Huh. Seems like I‘m healed.“

He held your chin between index finger and thumb and leaned down to meet your lips. You giggled into the kiss, placing one hand on his cheek while running your fingertips along the back of his neck with the other. He hummed happily and deepened the kiss, playfully tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“When can I tell them?“, he asked softly once you broke from each other, linking your fingers with his.

You nuzzled into his broad chest to hide your smile and he wrapped both arms around your soft round figure, slowly swaying on the spot. Back when you started working with the Jackals it had only taken a few months of stolen glances, not-so-accidental touches, and careful courting until Meian asked you to be his girlfriend right before an important match. You agreed immediately under one condition. And while he was never a fan of keeping your relationship secret, he understood that you were worried about what it could mean for either of you if it didn‘t last or if you were being accused of abusing your power. But at this point, it was well over a year and he would appreciate it immensely if Atsumu stopped trying to set him up on blind dates all the time.

“Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I read my contract over and over. I know that thing by heart. Nowhere does it say that we can‘t be together. Just…“, he pulled away a little to rest his forehead against yours, “let me show you off, hm? You know how Bokuto always sprints to his wife after a match to hug and kiss her?“

You nodded

“Well… I wanna do that, too.“

“Wife, huh?“, you teased.

“Princess, let us be public and I‘ll get you a ring so fast you won‘t know what hit ya. Cause I draw the line at secret wife.“

“Alright alright… next match. You can come and kiss me.“

“Yeah?“ His eyes practically glowed at your reply.

“Yes. But you better be faster than Bokuto.“

“Deal.“

Please imagine Meian overtaking Bokuto on the way to kiss his wife in the next match.

Imagine if these races became a thing after matches.

Imagine, when he does it for the first time, Sakusa is caught in the background of a picture of Meian kissing you with the most wtf face.

There would be fancams of their races after every match. People would keep score.

a/n: thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for the headcanon that Sakusa is photobombing the first fancam xD

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 14

content warning: mentions of vomit/vomit related terms, more angst

word count: 3.4k (shoutout to the BETAAAA @slushycoookie)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

It was cold.

So cold.

The last thing he remembers was the prickles of the concrete through his pants.

Everything kept replaying in his head as if he were watching it unfold before him again. He still felt the way you pushed him, parts of his body flashing from where you shoved. The expression on your face was scorned and burned into his memory. The corners of your lips were deep, your eyes lost all color, your hands were trembling despite the steady tone in your voice, and you fought to keep the tears from running. It pained him.

He hurt you again and it was all a misunderstanding, again.

How was he so bad at this?

Miguel felt scared as he failed in opening up his constricted throat, but he couldn't stop it.

He kept thinking that maybe you would come back, maybe you were just around the corner waiting, but it feels like it’s been forever since you ran out of his room.

He needs to call you.

He needs to see you.

He needs to be near you.

Why can’t he?

“Miguel.”

A harsh hand shocks his shoulders, shaking him until the pivots and brick of the wall behind him scratch across his skin.

“Hey. Listen to me. Can you hear me?”

A frantic voice reaches the end of his ears, but it sounds far away. Was it his name? Were they talking to him?

It’s still so cold. His feet feel numb and his fingers won’t move.

The voice stops calling him and the hills in the wall are back in their rightful place, digging into his skin.

He wonders if you’re cold too.

The breath is knocked out of him, his eyes focusing on the ground under him. The air comes back into his lungs just as fast, the wind aiding him.

When did it start raining?

“Miguel,” he’s shaken again, but he can look up this time.

Peter squats in front of him with a worried face, orange bucket knocked over by his side.

“Did you just pour that on me?” is all Miguel thinks to say, his voice scratchy and almost gone.

“I panicked, ok? It was either this or the ambulance. It’s so weird to just drag your body back inside. Come on, get up before our RA actually does his job.”

With more strength than Miguel thought he had, Peter yanks him up and supports his weight, counting even steps as he guides him to their dorm room. The blood is slowly flowing back to his fingertips and the difference in temperature makes the hair on his skin rise.

One guy walks past the two of them with a look of curiosity, but the sense to not ask. Miguel starts to register how this looks.

Peter gets the door open fast and drops Miguel on a beanbag.

“You know, I didn’t expect for your party to turn out this wild. However, I also would have expected you to crash out back here. Or there. Or just, not in front of the dorm.”

Miguel’s body slumped and the events of today came crashing back onto him. He laughs, feeling the tears of his face mix with the water dripping from his hair.

He did have a party today and he did fuck up today. Majorly. The heels of his palms dig into his eyes as his body jerks, unable to keep up with his sobbing.

His roommate panics, “Did I say something wrong?”

Through what feels like a torturous hour, Miguel tells Peter what happens.

He was devastated.

It’s like a punch in the gut to repeat the words you said to him. They were like a betrayal, salt to the wound that was the finicky air between you both. He should have done more to communicate with you but instead he was leaving things up for chance.

You didn’t leave room for if’s or maybe’s and he stood there like a bumbling idiot, fighting to have you hear him.

On top of that, today was still his birthday. The party that one of his oldest friends gave to him sucked. A pack of gum would have been a better gift and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Xina did this.

Through this same hour, Miguel can’t stop crying. He can’t stop thinking about you and he wants to tear his heart out.

It’s not until his head hits his pillow that he has serenity, body tired from the day.

He thinks he’s called your number over seventy times. After the tenth call, the line didn’t connect. By the twentieth, there was only one ring and an automated tone.

By the thirtieth call, he’s trying not to freak out. By the fortieth call, he’s checking instagram to reach you there, but of course, you’re nowhere to be found.

By the fiftieth call, he’s sending message after message to the brick wall that is your number. At sixty, he’s considering digging up your school email from last year.

At call seventy-one, he’s wondering if carrier pigeons still exist.

It’s almost noon and Peter threatened to put his phone in a box if he didn’t stop trying to call you. Miguel hasn’t really moved since last night, not because it hurts, but because the warmth of the bed still felt like you were with him.

He hasn’t gotten up to eat or workout which is not the norm. He wasn’t hungry and his limbs felt extremely heavy.

Peter left to go find him something quick and easy, but Miguel isn’t sure if would be able to stomach it.

His phone buzzes, and a small part of him perks up hoping that it’s you.

Gabriel’s picture lights up the screen, a silly photo of him with his crooked goggles on inside of the water. The hope in him dies a little more.

He presses the green button and buries himself further into the sheets.

“What is up! I’m guessing you had a wild night last night since you didn’t call anybody.”

“I-“

“But before you tell me everything, I’ve got to catch you up. First of all, a squirrel stole my Aki-way sandwich. I knew Alvin and his brothers were giving their species a run for their money, but what did he say fuck me for? Then, it’s been a freaky ass club trying to get me to join in on their sexcapades. Dana said I could have eye candy, but the people in there honestly give me the heebie jeebies. Oh! I am now a godfather to several tiny doodles. My roommate’s dog unfortunately went on the prowl.”

Gabriel paused.

“Miguel, what’s wrong? You haven’t given your obligatory one to two sentences to break up my yapping.”

“Break up.”

“What?”

“She. She broke up with me.”

The silence was so long that when Gabriel started laughing, Miguel’s nerves jumped in his skin.

“That is actually so funny, like seriously. You got me,” Gabriel focuses the blurry screen back onto his face. “Are you crying?”

Miguel dropped the phone on his bed and sat up, bringing the collar over his shirt over his eyes and back down.

“Miguel, I thought you were joking. Please tell me you’re joking. This isn’t haha funny.”

“Why would I ever joke about this?” Miguel picked the phone back up, voice raw.

“Well, what happened? I don’t understand! You were so excited to see her yesterday. And- and you guys just had your anniversary.”

“I know that. God, I-I know that.”

“And I’ve never seen you this head-over-heels for anybody, not even for that girl that entertained you for like a week in high school. Did you do something?”

“Gabriel, please let me talk.”

His brother made a face as if milliseconds were too long of a time to think.

“This semester has been tough on both of us and we, no I, haven’t been making time to see her. It’s either studying or class or something else that gets in the way.”

“That’s not enough to warrant a break up. You’re not that shallow and neither is she.”

“She thinks I cheated on her.”

Gabriel sits up and tilts his head with a frown, “Huge bomb to drop out of nowhere. She’s all you can talk about sometimes, as in you can’t think about anything else besides her. And if school is causing you guys to not meet up, when do you have time to cheat?”

“I don’t! Even if I were to be in an alternate world where I’m this sleazy, terrible boyfriend, I wouldn’t have time. I go to the gym, I go to class, I go to the library, I go to my dorm. It’s because Xina is always-“

“Pause,” Gabriel put a hand to the screen. “Stop the fucking music.”

“What.”

“What do you mean Xina?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“Xina. As in the one who kicked me out of your room when we were younger?”

“Yes.”

“As in the one who didn’t give you the time of day for years, but became friendly once you beat her highest test scores.”

“Yes.”

“As in the one who completely flipped the dynamic of your friend group.”

“That’s-“ Miguel falters, but Gabriel keeps going.

“The one who was at our house constantly, especially when she found out that your dad owns the biggest tech company ever.”

“She didn’t-“

“The one who mom conveniently likes.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“The one who’s been pining after you for years.”

“No, she has not. Why do people keep saying that?”

Gabriel barked out a laugh again, harsh. “Miguel, I love you, but you can’t be this much of a dumbass.”

Miguel clicked his teeth as Gabriel continued, over this conversation.

“Do you see the connection I’m making here? Or should I spell it out further. Because it’s so clear to me what’s happening and you don’t even have to finish the story.”

“The story is that my girlfriend just dumped me because she thinks that I’m cheating on her with Xina-“

“But why, Miguel? Why does she think that?”

“I,” he takes a breath and thinks back to what you told him while you were hurt, vulnerable on this same bed. “I have been spending a lot of time with her, but only because we share classes. And because she’s my friend. I don’t want to be with her.”

“Does Xina know that?”

“Of course she knows she’s my friend. I have no reason to not be her friend.”

Gabriel made a noncommittal noise.

“What the fuck does that mean, Gabriel?”

“Don’t get pissed off at me because I’m not gonna coddle you for being an idiot.”

Miguel wanted to end the call, but he knows it’s only going to rile Gabriel up more.

“It’s so blatantly obvious that Xina likes you. Not as a friend, but as someone to date, whether it’s superficial or not. I’m not sure how you went so long without noticing, but here we are. Every time you’re with her, you entertain her, and now that you have, shit, had a girlfriend, she’s realizing that it’s too late.”

The knot that was lodged in his throat earlier was unfurling. Maybe it’ll finally come up, but he’s not sure as what yet.

“I made it clear that I,” the words get gargled in and thrown back out, “had a a girlfriend. And even when I didn’t have one, Xina never gave me exact words-”

“Oh my god, Miguel. She didn’t have to! You’re friendly, you’re considerate, you’re caring, and she’s used that to her advantage. Please, open your eyes.”

It’s not that he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe that someone he knew for this long would hurt him in this way.

“She was with me every chance she got. In classes or studying or going to the gym or just relaxing.” Purposefully taking his time.

“Out of everyone I introduced her to, she was only weird to my girlfriend.” When she wasn’t the center of his attention.

“She took my phone-”

“Crazy work, by the way. The phone and the weirdness.” Gabriel chimed in.

“-to silence my notifications, to block my girlfriend’s number. And I didn’t realize it, because I trusted her.”

“And that makes a lot more sense,” Gabriel laid down in his bed, face as stern as his mom’s. “Glad we got here. So what are you going to do now?”

He didn’t even mention what Andrew told him, about how he mistook his friend for something more. Is that how others saw them when they were walking around campus too?

Is this how you felt when you saw his phone?

Miguel sat up and hung his legs over the bed, “I want to puke.”

“Hold it in, big boy. This isn’t a marathon.”

“It feels like it.”

Miguel snatched his phone and went to the bathroom, stomach rolling like converse in a dryer.

“You need to find a way to talk to everyone, especially your girl. You need to explain yourself and the situation,” Gabriel’s voice echoed off the tiles. “You’re good at talking, no matter how long it takes you to realize things.”

He chuckled listening to his brother, sliding to floor. The room was hot and saliva was building on his tongue.

“I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“Maybe give it a week? Try the middle of the week if you can’t wait that long.”

He doesn’t know how he can reach you besides showing up outside of your door or your class. Isn’t that creepy?

Maybe he can catch you in the cafe.

“Gabri?”

“Yeah, Mig?”

The noise from his throat enters the air before his words do. All he sees is the white of the toilet and the fuzzy brown of the hamburger bath mat Peter insisted on buying.

“I didn’t think you were serious!” Gabriel shouts over his gagging.

Nothing was even coming up, just bile and the buildup of his feelings since yesterday.

“I’m turning you down,” Miguel can feel Gabriel grimacing without even looking at him. “You’re really lovesick. What are you going to do when you guys get married?”

His stomach lurched again.

“Will I even make it that far?” An image of you at the alter flashed by, and when he lifts the veil, the look on your eyes as you stood in this bathroom is painted on your face.

You might leave him at the alter. Forget the alter, you might not ever look at him again.

He coughed and heaved over the bowl.

“I hope you don’t do this when you actually talk to her, Miguel.”

“Shut. Up.”

In the brightly lit bathroom laid out on the floor is how Peter found him. By this point, Gabriel was practicing his instrument under the guise of calming Miguel down.

He leans over him with his hands on his hips, “Don’t tell me you got into my Twisted Teas without me.”

Gabriel paused his music to let out a sharp laugh.

“No,” Miguel groaned and put an arm over his head.

“He’s been crashing out for the past forty, almost fifty, minutes,” Gabriel says. “But now that you’re here, I’m gonna clock out. Let me know what you decide to do Miguel.”

Peter holds a bag up and smiles, “How does some warm, yummy potato soup sound?”

Miguel bolts up and gags.

“Not a fan favorite, I see.”

By Sunday, he’s able to get up with heavy eyes do some light walking around the park, the autumn sun a nice change of scenery.

He wonders how you’re faring.

A part of him hopes you’re not like him: sick, exhausted, and aimless. Another part of him, as crazy as it is, wishes for you to yearn for him as much as he’s yearning for you, to feel what he’s feeling, to care as much as he does.

He’s seeing you everywhere.

In the leftover box of cookies left on his desk, he thinks about how much time you could have spent on writing the messages.

In the figure of you both showcasing a night where you looked at him an aura of comfort.

In the brown bear keychain on his backpack that mocks him.

In the stickers on water bottle that he picks at while he walks.

In the lockscreen of you that he took of you as you were laid under him. You were in his hoodie, under his blanket, and staring up at him like he was giving you the world.

Perhaps he hit his head somewhere between Friday to today.

His throat is still throbbing from the crying, from running out after you in the chilled night without his keycard, but his head is clearer.

Now, he’s ready to think about how to approach you.

By Tuesday, everything seems to be blurring together. The only thing that has stayed consistent is the gym.

The gym gives him peace in a way that the right corner of his dorm doesn’t. It doesn’t change, only giving to him what he gives to it.

Maybe that’s what happened with you and him. You’re only giving him the pain that he gave to you.

He doesn’t want to go to class, but he can’t afford to not go.

So he drags himself to the computer lab.

Sitting down, he tries to think about what he wants to say, rolling the words over in his head.

“Miguel!”

Irritated is the first feeling that sits within him and the smell of that nutty sweet vanilla wasn’t helping.

“Dude? All of a sudden you don’t answer your phone?”

“You would know a lot about that, huh?”

Xina laughs and shakes the mouse at her computer, “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t have the patience for you to act like everything is ok.”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you do some extra partying without me?”

“Xina,” Miguel turned to her, eyes tired. She was wearing another bright set today and the words that Gabriel, Tempest, Lyla, and Winston were telling him echoed through his mind. “What was the point of the ‘party’ you threw for me?”

“You’re upset over that? A simple college party?”

“That’s not what that was. You didn’t throw that for me. So please tell me why you’ve gone so far as to push my girlfriend away?”

“What?” Xina’s face switched like a light. “You must be joking.”

“Xina, I know you went in my phone and blocked her number. Why did you that?”

He’s giving her the floor to answer. To tell the truth.

“Of course this is about her. I, I just can’t”

“You-you can’t what, Xina?” the pitch of his words match her, head shaking incredulously.

“I can’t believe one girl is about to ruin an almost two-decade friendship because she can’t stand the fact that you have friends that are also girls.”

“You’re not serious.”

“No, you,” she points a nail at him, “are not serious. This is so fucked.”

“What’s fucked is that you’re avoiding my question, when all signs lead back to you.”

She stares at him, lips tight, “And you’re sure of it.”

“Who else would it be?” he motions to the space around him, “We’ve been tied at the hip this entire semester.”

“So this is seriously happening. Right here. Of all places.”

“You don’t get it, Xina. All of these years, I was the one who defended you. When everyone told me to leave you alone, I stayed by your side because I knew the real you. This,” he moves his hands up and down, “is not you.”

The face that Xina wears sours. For a second, Miguel wonders if, even in this situation, he was still wrong.

“So why aren’t you fighting for me anymore?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Miguel-”

“I’m not going to fight for someone who is willing to hurt me in this way. I’m not fighting for someone who won’t even give me the truth when I’m begging for it.”

She pats at her cheeks, a useless action to stop the tears that start to hit her sweater. Her eyes find Miguel’s and she searches for something, anything, but his face is still.

“Understood.”

Just as quickly as she came in, she left.

Once again, Miguel was left questioning what he did.

divider by: cafekitsune + adornedwithlight + strangergraphics 🩵

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[hymnserendipity]

Pro Hero Bakugo being a dad

Fluff, femreader, Age up

The hours of labor were tiring, painful, but in the end, with Bakugo next to you, your son was born, the little one who is entirely his father.

Bakugo smiled at you, the pain in his heart slowly lessening as he saw your smile after all the pain you just endured. He wiped some sweat on your forehead off with a napkin and caressed your cheek gently

"You did it, love... you really did it..." He smiled as he watched the doctor gently put their baby in your arms for the first time. He couldn't help but feel a surge of joy and pride wash over him, seeing your baby in your arms for the first time after such excruciating pain. He leaned a bit closer, gently caressing the baby's head and smiling as he looked at him.

"Look at him... he's perfect...He has my hair and your eyes, your features and my colors." You said and he couldn't help but chuckled, noticing and agreeing with the features you pointed out. The baby's hair was messy like yours, and the eye color matched his, as well as the other facial features. The baby was an absolute perfect mix of you.

"Looks like he got the best from both of us, huh?" Then the doctor ask him for the name, he looked up.

"The name? Hmm... I didn't think of tha5 yet... Any suggestions, love?" It was true, you both were so busy that you barely talked about that. "Hiro." You mumbled with a smile. He quite liked the sound of it, it sounded like a good name for your infant son.

"Hiro... I like it. So, he's Hiro." He said, proud.

Hours later, the three of you were in your hospital room as you finish feed Hiro. "Love, do you want to hold your son?" Bakugo nodded, feeling a bit weary but he was willing to hold the baby.

"I do... give him to me, love. I wanna hold my son..."

"I love you." You say. Bakugo carefully held his son for the first time, cradling him in his arms with a soft smile on his face. His heart softened as he looked at the baby in his arms, he felt a wave of love and protectiveness wash over him.

"I love you too, sweetheart... I love you so much... and our little prince here..." He gently ran his thumb over the baby's cheek, watching his infant son in his arms with a loving look in his eyes as he leaned closer and lightly kissed the baby's forehead. He gently bounced the baby in his arms, rocking him slightly and watching the baby's eyes flutter open a bit.

"I'm gonna protect you, my sweet little prince... Papa will protect you no matter what..." He smiled as the baby's tiny hand gently grabbed his finger, holding him in place. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt his son's small hand holding onto him, his heart melted even more as he continued to gently hold the infant closely. Bakugo continued to rock the baby in his arms, watching the baby's curious eyes look around the room. He couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness and tenderness towards the little one.

"Such a beautiful baby... and he's ours, love... I love him so much..." The baby made a small noise, like a cross between a whimper and a coo. He chuckled softly and leaned down to press a soft, small kiss to the baby's forehead again.

"He's perfect... absolutely perfect... just like you, sweetheart..." He continued to gently cradle the baby in his arms, rocking him soothingly. He knew the coming days and months would be tiring, but he was willing to go through it all for the sake of this little infant in his arms. He couldn't help but look down at the baby again, admiring his small, perfect features. He softly caressed the baby's cheek, feeling a loving tenderness towards the infant.

"You're gonna grow up to be a strong and healthy boy, aren't you, little prince...?" Bakugo couldn't help but get attached more and more to the baby with every passing second. He whispered softly to the baby in his arms, feeling a deep love for his son.

"Papa and mama love you so much..."

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Food turned Imposter?!

Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya

[ part 5 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 7 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"Wait!" Paimon yelped as the Pyro slime that accompanied you lunged at them, going into their ignited state. The floating fairy dodged with ease as Aether was about to bring out his sword out of its sheath.

"Don't hurt them!" You pleaded, and he hesitated, which caused the Pyro Slime to hit him in the face. "Wait Don't hurt Aether either!"

"Yeah!" Paimon nodded in agreement, but yelped in fear once again when the pyro slime turned its attention to her and glared. Who knew something as cute and small could have such a fiery gaze.

Ignoring the two smaller companions, you worriedly approached Aether who was on the ground, he was rubbing his face and wincing at his own touch. "Oh I'm so sorry Aether, he didn't mean it okay? he was just protecting me." You apologized, hands reaching to his face to find the skin dry and warm, but luckily he did not end up with any degree burns, perhaps it was the plot armor protecting the main character's face.

Luckily the blond seemed to be nice about it as he let the incident go, "'s alright, I kinda did freaked you two out." he waved his hand to dismiss your apologies.

Your eyes continued to glance at his face, soaking in his appearance and the finer details the game did not have, it did not also do justice to the other worldly beauty that is Aether "Still your face is a bit red, is it because of pyro here?"

Aether rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed "I'm fine really. it's just . ." he glanced away from you and you flushed realized how you were invading his personal face.

Reeling back you awkwardly chuckled "so what brings you two here?" "Oh. ." Aether stood up, holding his hand out for you silently as he thought about what to say. Should he not tell you just yet so he could easily observe you while your guard wasn't up? or should he tell you now and risk you putting on a mask?

"Well. ." Paimon looked away, slowly floating closer to the duowhile eyeing the pyro slime warily who also approached it's master, you. "We just wanted to get materials and do a few quests in the area." Aether easily offered with a well practiced smile.

Bobbing your head, you didn't think too much about his lie. You had a sneaking feeling after all on why he was here. A part of you wanted to run, run from anybody that wasn't an 'enemy' or 'mob' by the games standards. But Aether was an outlander, maybe he didn't have this crazed devotion to the Creator like Jean and Lisa did.

You took his hand without complaint or any fear, were you this quick to trust people? he wondered. "Thanks!" you smiled at him and stood up with ease- but quickly faltered as something electrocuted you both. It was a tingly sensation at first, until light and golden lightning sprouted from where your two hands made contact, then it travelled, to your wrists then up your arms-

"Ack!" you yelled, shivering in fear as you stepped back, slapping his hand away. "I'm so sorry! What happened?!"

Your eyes widened as you stared something right in front of you. There, right in front of you, emitting a golden light. . was a holographic tabs you'd seen in sci-fi movies.

"What the. ."

[Color] eyes met golden ones, both wide due to shock. You two could both see it. It displayed both of your inventories-

There you could see the uniform Katheryne had given you, the only item in the Cosmetics Section, which was an entirely new section!

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

You two had left the shores of the lake, far away from prying eyes as you two entered stormterror's lair. Since the hilichurls may not take kindly to Aether and Paimon you stayed at the east entrance you had used to get to the lake.

The entire walk had been silent, you and Aether having a calculating look in your faces as you tried to understand what this means for the both of you.

Deciding to just fuck it and hope he doesn't kill you, you decided to speak first, taking charge of the conversation. "Aether. . by chance, did you always have the abilities to have your own inventory space and pull out a virtual map?"

You two had also separately inspected the glowing virtual screen that displayed in front of you. "Yeah, it's something me and my sister picked up from traveling different worlds." He told you, eyes finally moving to glance at you.

That would explain it other than saying the game developers just gave it. "I see. Then, why do I have one. I may come from another world, but being here is purely accidental." You told him and watched as their jaw drops.

"You're also from another world?!"

You nodded at Paimon's question, then put a finger to your mouth to make them quiet down. "Yes." You weighed the options of whether to tell Aether about the whole world being created by a game, it would definitely destroy the residents of the world's mind, but Aether wasn't affected the laws of the world, maybe he'd be safe with this knowledge. . or does uttering it cause an event similar to what happened in the deserts due to the forbidden knowledge?

Still since Paimon was here you decided to hold off on it.

Aether frowned, did that mean you were no imposter nor the creator. That would make you a normal person stuck in a very bad situation. Still. . your voice was familiar to him, as if it was a forgotten song he was slowly remembering.

You felt familiar yet different,

new and old,

friend and stranger. .

"You are finding your sibling right." you suddenly asked, no, it was more of a statement with your tone. The way you spoke and held yourself in front of him, you knew something.

Then your face contorted into one of sadness and pain, as you told him "The journey ahead of you will be very tough Aether, you're sister was fine, but for reasons I'm not yet entirely certain about, she does not want to be found, nor does she want to leave Teyvat at the moment."

"What?!" he grabbed your shoulders, tight enough to make you wince as he desperately waited for an answer.

"She. . She is planning something with an organization, I know things but I cannot make a certain conclusion with it." She winced, the lore and story of teyvat was heavy yet she wasn't an expert, nor was she one to theorized the future and even then she had a hard time wrapping her head around the story. She didn't want to misinform Aether because she, you acknowledged that you aren't entirely sure of things anymore.

The game didn't have a creator, so what knowledge is real or false, what information has been neglected in the game that may be important here?

"At. . at least she's alive." He sighed, nearly falling to the ground from the revelation. Knowing his sister was alive was nice enough, that she was well and kicking and planning like usual. "Could you, could you let go of my shoulders now? it's starting to hurt. ."

He quickly let go "I'm sorry!"

Waving him off, you rubbed your shoulders, the pain slowly disappearing. "It's alright." you assured him, you understood why he reacted after all. This was just the cherry on the icing anyway, the future. . despite being surrounded by many people, you couldn't help but think that Aether was lonely, for he missed his sister who was always within out of reach.

"You, you know my name though, and about my sister. If you come from another world. . how do you know?"

You eyed Paimon and your pyro slime, "could you two leave us for a bit? how about you eat some fruits and pinecones." you suggested to the two with a smile. The two small companions stared at each other, and despite pouting and huffing, they obliged.

"I cannot say for now. I don't know how you'll react to it." You honestly confessed once the two were out of earshot. Would saying that he was in a world that was created to be a game destroy him? because he would realize that his and his sister's journey, separation and the loneliness was caused to be the premise of a game where he was to be controlled for entertainment. .

"However, all I can tell you, without bringing the world to destruction (with forbidden knowledge) is that I'm always on your side Aether, I have been with you since the beginning of your journey."

"beginning. . but" he clutched his head at a flurry of memories, he knew Paimon was the one there with him, ever since he fished her up. But then those memories slowed down, connecting with one another to be coherent.

"Alright, so now I have to fight the shogun to end the archon quest in Inazuma. ." there's a faint voice in the back of his head as he stood in the middle of Ei's throne room. The ashes of Signora laid on the tatami mats as the Shogun silently stood, waiting, or were they paused.

And just like usual, his body was covered in a faint golden glow, it was like he was stuck in a warm embrace as his body was being controlled. He pulled out his map, as his finger clicked on a waypoint to a domain.

"Since I got Ganyu, I should build her for the boss fight. Then I'll cook some recovery Items." A voice said, he couldn't quite tell where it came from. Because it felt like the voice was from everywhere and no where in particular, it was in his head, it was from above, then to his sides.

Suddenly he watched, while standing inside the Momiji-Dyed Court as the visages of Diluc, Xiangling and Diona appear beside him, all covered in that same glow. They two had been summoned by the voice. "Hello Traveler, it seems her divine excellency needs our assistance. Do you know who this is for?" Diluc asked, though his body could not move, he was able to speak.

"It's for Ganyu this time." Aether said as the man nodded in understanding.

"Aether!" he was pulled out of memories, finding himself on the ground with the others staring down at him worriedly. "I. . I remember."

"Remember what Aether?"

"This. . This has all happened before. But you where there, you were everywhere. Your voice, your guidance, you control us, control me as I travel to Liyue, then to Inazuma, then to Sumeru and Fontaine. But you also controlled other vision users!" he said, his voice had started off as slow and in awe but as he continued he spoke faster and quicker.

His face turned to one of awe and respect for her, because he remembered, not everything but enough to know, to know that the voice he had heard before was the same you now held. That your warmth was still there, though now withdrawn from the pains the others had caused you.

"You helped me."

"Ah. ."

Yet your face turned to a stark contrast from his own, instead of awe or happiness, you stared at him terrified.

. . .

Aether knew, he was beginning to become self-aware. You assumed he was talking about the times you controlled him to push forward the plot, to finish archon quests after archon quests. . You hoped he wouldn't utter those words, you were afraid of causing another incident similar to that of Sumeru's.

Seeing you look, he took a few deep breaths, placing his hands on top of your own as he sat up, once again your eyes met and he said softly, and with all the sincerity he had.

"Thank you."

Even though the world and time itself rewound, even if he lost all progress and has to go through all the nations again, still he can't forget about her help. Vaguely he could recall your commentary from different events, how you were silent when he died, and how you had been respectfully silent to mourn for his death. How you shouted and complained when his sister left him once more, when none of the first three archons could give him any concrete information. How you laughed when you chose to call Paimon an emergency food every now and then. How you shared his sentiments, wishing you didn't have to help everyone only for missing flyers to be your reward.

"hic. ."

You found yourself crying again, you knew the world was just a game, and you knew you only played it because of the food, and the visuals and for comfort at the beginning, but for you to get attached to the characters and the world, for you to painstakingly go through those annoying missions and dialogue, to build characters and pull for them. . .

to have Aether of all people to genuinely thank you, when he had gone through a lot of things (and he remembers) made you feel a sense of accomplishment, what you did wasn't useless. It wasn't for nothing.

Because if it were nothing, he wouldn't be thanking you, and shedding tears with you.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

"You guys are weird!" Paimon complained as she rubbed her swollen eyes, having shed a few tears to "Who shares a few words and suddenly bursts into tears anyways!"

You and Aether chuckled, walking once more as you offered to show him where and who you have been staying since nearly being killed by Lisa. "Make sure to not attack or scare them okay? The hilichurls are nice as long as you are too. Right?" You turned to the pyro slime who made a motion similar to that of a nod.

"I. . I see. I'll make sure to be on my best behavior." Aether said though seemingly he had begun to regret the idea when you were heading for a very huge hilichurl camp.

"Unu!" You hear someone shout, and they repeated as if spreading the word that you had returned. "Hi guys-" you said before gasping as a few hilichurls began to attack Paimon and Aether.

"What hey-!" you yelled stopping them, "Odomu, they are Odomu!" you quickly said pointing to them. "Odomu?" they hesitated, clearly suspicious of the two new comers who accompanied their God.

You nodded in confirmation, "This is Paimon, and that is Aether, whose hair you are still pulling." Huffing you approach, chiding the hilichurl who was pulling the blond's hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you repeated, first pointing at Paimon "Odomu Paimon. Odomu!"

"Odomu. ."

"Aether, Aether Odumu."

"Odomu. . ."

Then you smiled as they finally lowered there weapons, your hand stretched out, patting their heads like you would do for a child "Good. . Good job guys. Thank you for trying to protect me."

Despite the language barrier, seeing your soft expression, hearing your gentle voice and feeling the warmth form your touch alone. . they simpered.

"She makes Hilichurls look like docile puppies. ." Paimon couldn't help but comment as Aether silently nodded, his hand petting his frayed hair.

The hilichurls calmed down when they realized she had returned from a trip, pulling out the contents from her rucksack they slightly deflated from the lack of meat. Rolling your eyes playfully at their reactions you asked Aether for some help getting some Meat and Eggs which luckily he had in his inventory.

So as you managed to convince the Hilichurls to let you cook, you found yourself in the cooking area with Paimon, Aether and your Slime. The pyro slime returning to the dug out hole with ashes and wood.

"Oh I'll get some sticks and branches!" Paimon offered as she looked around the camp for materials to stoke the growing fire. "Anything you need help with?" Aether turned to you, realizing he was left with no tasks as Paimon and your slime were finally getting along swimmingly.

"Well can you fill the pails with water for me?"

He nodded "sure, that's easy." With the help of his map he was able to find the few ponds or rather water sources near the camp. After a couple of trips, he was now helping you wash the ingredients clean.

"So while Paimon and the Slime are busy, can you tell me what you know of this. ." you trailed off before bitterly spitting out ". . imposter and creator situation I got myself in?"

Aether begun slowly explaining while you both began preparing, he was tearing the cabbages as you were cutting the bitter gourds. "So first, there's this Divine Creator. In simpler ways to explain, they are higher than the archons, possibly Celestia. And they're considered the mother of all due to her caring and warm nature."

You nodded along, scooping out the inner contents of the bitter gourd or 'ampalaya' after having slicing the ampalayas into two. It was luckily you found wild ampalaya growing. "They think I am her or some cheap imposter then?"

"Yes, apparently imitating the Divine Creator is grounds for quick execution without trial." Aether said with a frown, one that mirrored your own. That was. . unfair. "Do they not understand a person is not born with the choice of how they look like?"

He didn't have an answer to that, whether the residents of Mondstadt were fanatic believers that didn't take the time to think about things logically or whether they were just. . dumb, well he wasn't sure. It was beyond him really, their thinking process that is.

"Anyways, Kaeya sent me here, he was a bit skeptical of how they handled the situation and quickly labelled you as an imposter. He told me how there is a prophecy, that well prophesized how an imposter, a demon or sign of catastrophe would come to Teyvat and cause disasters while wearing the face of the great Mother to smear their name and spite them."

"So me going to Teyvat when Dvalin was terrorizing the city as Mondstadt. . was just some bad timing for me. ." your frown had deepened. You were slowly becoming even more bitter as you held the knife tightly and begun to cut the ampalaya pieces into thinner slices.

"uhh" Aether wanted to get the knife away from you as you dangerously begun to cut the ampalaya in a quick and heavy pace due to your foul mood.

"so," your smile was icy "anything else I need to know about?"

"Jean, Lisa, Amber and the other knights are hunting you down since they haven't found your body in the lake. . ."

thump!

"c-can you give me the knife-?"

OMAKE

the hilichurls sadly stared at the food you had prepared for them, not much meat in sight. they even noticed you had prepared something with bitter gourds, which they knew would be very bitter.

Paimon and Aether were silently waiting as well for someone to eat first. The atmosphere was thick and they wondered if it would be rude for them to start eating now.

Meanwhile, Pyro was eating some sticks and pinecones, which burned into nothing inside their fiery stomachs. You sat near them, a smile on your face as you patiently waited for them to eat your cooking. Having noticed their eating tendencies, you realized that they ate more meat than vegetables. "Come on it tastes good, It's not going to be bitter I promise."

Ginisang Ampalaya was the dish you cooked, it was something you learned from one of your Filipino classmates. It had a mixed of ampalaya slices, eggs, tomatoes, some pork, and onions too. It would be nice to have some rice but even Aether hadn't been able to buy any.

"You need to eat your vegetables too." you told them. The samachurl who had also been silent, decided to take a bowl of the ampalaya, "Mosi gusha!" (eat vegetables!) it told the others who repeated in a more sad "mosi gusha. ." and thus they begun eating. But. .

"!" they stared at the meal, finding it to not be bitter as they had anticipated. They tasted the meat and the eggs more than the bitter gourds. and so they ate at a more happy pace.

Paimon and Aether followed, with Aether smiling "This is good, I didn't know you could cook something like this without a recipe!" You chuckled, cheeks flushed with the praise "It's no big deal, I learned that in school."

"Oh like a home economics class?" he briefly remembered a world like that, perhaps it was yours? "Kinda but more professional, its a cooking school so you can become a chef."

"A chef?! that settles it! come with us in our journey to find aether's sister!" Paimon said through a mouthful.

You all smiled and laughed as you talked, and suddenly you didn't feel so bitter anymore.

To help the readers in their long journey, I decided to give you a few functions! Nothing tooo op, but something very useful especially for travelers and chefs! You have your own inventory system (which is the same as the ingame one)! Of course shared with the traveler as you two are connected as the player and the vessel!

NAMING THE PYRO SLIME EVENT: ONE ACCOUNT IS ONLY ALLOWED TO SUGGEST AT MOST 2 NAMES (this applies to me)!

Current compiled suggestions: Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel"

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily @earth-to-name @fandomfan-102

hopefully the tag works now, I've been having trouble with a few accounts since the tag wouldn't work on them. If you are not tagged successfully that means tumblr thinks you are a bot (because you don't have posts, or much interaction), you have been shadowbanned, or your visibility is set to prevent you from being tagged.

check here for more info.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Oohhhh! I luv your fics on Black Myth!

You think you can write a romantic-sad drabble on Wukong and his lover Lady Bone Dekon?

The little tidbit so sad and such starcross lovers situation!

When he smacked down the rice porridge, his first instinct was to kill her on sight. But then, his eyes met the one of the women in front of him, and he knew. 

No lies can hide from him; every truth is like clear water, but that was truth that he saw was icy as an ocean wave.

Her hair was white, and so was her skin. Like the snow she was, almost a ghost of her former self. 

Her eyes were now red like the blood that once was in her veins. Lost was her so lovely and natural color.

She was something different, but it was her. After all these years, she was still her.

His precious one, his wife.

Before his master and his brothers could speak, his finger had already cast the immobilized spell on them. He didn't want an audience.

Their eyes met, both of them confused, shocked, and full of emotion that was lost so many times ago.

He embraced her, feeling her cold skin against him. Since when she was so cold? Since his own embrace could not hold her? Or since she abandoned him under the mountain, broken heart, and without her own husband at her side.

Her fragile arms embrace him, skinny from her change during the years, yet so full of love for him.

If It Was a Dream, they hoped that they couldn't wake up so soon.

"My love, what happened to you?" He caressed her gaunted face, her lovely Rosy cheeks lost through the time.

"Wukong...my Wukong... you're free from the Buddha sigyl!" Your eyes fell on his companions, "and you...brought company."

Your voice... It was deeper than he remembered. It felt different... strange.

"My love, they are my master and brothers! The monkey had freed me from the mountain! So I can accompany him to India and fetch the scriptures!"

"The... scriptures?... Wukong, are you helping the same Buddha that had imprisoned you?!"

"My dear, Is for the best. It was the only way for me to get free!"

"Oh...i see..." He smiled, ready to free his friends to let You met them. "You're planning to eat the monk too, right?"

He stopped; his eyes darted from them to her face. A dark grin crossed her face, like a wound that still bleaded. Her eyes full of malice, her tongue licking her lips, observing the pilgrims.

"In that case, please share hisbflesh with me. Some can be immortal again."

He tried to look closer to see the illusion. He tried to look and find the lie that used your face and voice to manipulate him against the Tang monk. But it was the hurtful truth. She was her, and she was asking him to eat his breakfast.

His wife was fully a demon.

"You won't deny it this from me, Ri-"

"Stay back."

He barked, his voice flat yet so scarily strong. It made her stumble a little. But when she didn't back down and raise her hand over the others, his staff echoed on the ground, a wave that shocked her and everything around.

"I say back!"

She looked at him. Why? Why asking her to stop? Wasn't he the first one that wanted immortality with all his being? Why stop her? Then a closer look on his head...

"Who bound you? Who put you in chain?"

"..." He didn't respond, but it was clear who was responsible for this.

"He did it? He made you his slave?!"

"I am his disciple."

"It's not important the name! If they chain you, who cares about if you follow or you're forced! ...did he hurt... you?"

Of course he did. The Golden Rod was made for that, and she knew. The hairy became suddenly cold, the life from the ground drained, plants started to rot, and water became ice.

"Gave him to me... so I can pay him back."

His staff was now towards her, his body in a fighting pose.

"You won't hurt my master!" Please, my love, stand back. Don't force me to do this." His voice cracked; he couldn't do this. Not to her.

But she didn't move.

"Would you hurt your wife? You choose them over me?!"

"I will if I must! ...PLEASE...I beg you! Stand down!"

"..."

A moment of silence fell against the two. Was this really your destiny? To be one soul and the force to fight over a mortal that had bound him against his own will? In her vision, killing the monk was justice, but for him. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, darling," her Wicked grin reappeared. "It's for your own good."

///

The paper felt like iron in your hand. The tea was now cold in your cup, and the princess looked at your expression, meditating your words forward.

"He did kill her."

"In some way, yes..."

"Why are you showing me this then?"

She stands, purring herself some more of the tea, still warm from the embers under the teapot.

"I told you, She was my apprentice. An incredibile student...but she has fallen, so deep in her own misery to turn into a monster. Love can make incredible miracles...and curses." She turned towards you, her eyes trying to conceal her worries. "If the Destined One is bound to Wukong...my fear...if she comes back as well."

"And if she's come back...what do you expect me to do?"

"...to be ready at least."

///

"My oh my...such a nice specimen..."

On the surface of the frozen water is a mirror for the demon, the image of the Bián huá. Such an interesting one she was... but she was more intrigued by her companion.

He was...hisbspitting image. Full in his old glory, perfect like she remembered.

Did he have his best memories? Did he remember the love Wukong once felt for her? It didn't matter.

"Soon, my love..." She caressed the reflection of the Destined One, "Soon we'll have what we had lost." Until then, I'll make the right preparation."

"This time, nothing will set us apart."

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl

@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l @rootin-tootin-morgan @lightlumi

[xoxochb]

Bubbly sweetiepie personality Aphrodite!reader x Percy Jackson?😜

— my good looking boy

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x bubbly! daughter of aphrodite a/n: I already did hcs for percy and an aphrodite reader so I made this a blurb I hope you don’t mind

“is that my sweatshirt?”

your face lights up at the voice. you jump up from your bed and throw your arms around your boyfriend. “percy! I thought you were busy today?”

he snakes his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, taking in your scent. “I was but I managed to push a few things off for tomorrow”

“percy…” you warn, although your expression says otherwise. you pull back, keeping your arms around his shoulders “I don’t want you to skip things just to see me”

“are you happy I’m here?”

“yes…”

“then it’s worth it, sweet girl”

percy plants a tender kiss to your lips before asking once again, “is this my sweatshirt?”

you pout and turn your head to the blue sweatshirt adorned with a variety of sea animals. you sigh and ignore his question, your happy demeanor returning quickly “come! I want to show you what I made”

you take percy’s hand and lead him to your bed. you both take seats and you hold up your current project: a blue beaded bracelet with a seahorse charm in the middle

“silena let me use her beads and I had to pay the stolls twenty dollars each to buy— well, steal— this seahorse for me” you hold out your opposite hand “give me your arm, angel”

percy places his arm in your hand and you slide the bracelet around his wrist. “do you like it? I was thinking about making some more”

he admires the bracelet around his arm with a soft smile and pink-hued cheeks. “of course I love it, sweet girl. how long did it take?”

“oh, only ten minutes, it’s really simple! do you want me to show you how to make one?”

how could he ever say no to you? impossible. absolutely impossible. you hand him a string with a tied knot at the end to keep the beads in place

“what colors?”

percy thinks for a moment before responding, “pinks”

“and a charm?”

“seashell”

you nod your head and take a variety of pink beads and a seashell charm, handing them to percy. you explain for the next few minutes the steps of creating the bracelet as percy slides the beads around the clear string until it was filled, he ties the two opposite ends together, holding it up pridefully

“it’s beautiful! you learned faster than me too, it took me two hours…”

percy holds his hand out to you. “give me your arm”

you give him your arm. he, similar to you, slides the bracelet over your wrist. you gasp with the widest grin. “for me?”

“‘course it’s for you, sweet girl. your favorite color, too”

you squeal and practically throw yourself on top of percy, both falling back onto your bed. “thank you thank you thank you!”

you cup his face in your hand and kiss him once and then twice with dramatic mwahs! percy wraps one arm around your lower back, the other tangling in your hair, pulling your lips back to his once more

“happy, sunshine?”

“ecstatic!” you kiss him again

and again. and again. until your beads and charms are long forgotten

[joontroverted]

siren sweet, swim with me

pairing : nanami kento x reader

fandom : jujutsu kaisen

tags : pop idol reader, cfo nanami, fluff, angst, smut (later on), more tags to be added as the fic progresses

status : ongoing

summary :

after all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart. the best we can do is breathe and -

carrie bradshaw did not know what the fuck she was talking about. because when your international sensation girl group STARDUST collapses in on itself, everything you've ever known is hanging on by a thread.

disgruntled and exhausted, nanami kento, cfo, knows everything there is to know about his life. the books, the cash flow- the world he had built for himself made sense. until now. as the irrational nagging sense of uncertainty leads to a random moment of circumstance, the two of your lives are entangled.

ie. it's entirely up to you as to whether you'll shine in the spotlight, or explode and fade into obscurity like a supernova. it's also up to you as to whether you want to fall for the disgustingly handsome office worker.

author's note : first nanami long fic! can you tell i'm scared? anyways, this is an idea i've hadd since summer. summer! i'm glad i've gotten started finally 🥲 this is just the first chapter so it's just the set up. hope you have fun!

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

index -

chapter 1 (ao3)

yuki's staring at you in a way that makes you want to reach across the table and swing your fist across her face.

you would've, if yuki wasn't very very important to you, and wasn't still built like a wrestler.

“it's fine,” you mutter. “i'm fine,” you repeat, more clearly this time. your phone buzzes in your bag.

yuki blinks, breaking herself out of her dead stare for a moment. “you're not, but that's fine. no one would be, at the moment, and that's all right!”

pushing her chair back, she gets up and makes her way to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. her blonde bangs tickle your face as she leans in closer, and her ginormous tits cover your arm from both sides as if hugging you to comfort you. if your mind wasn't running a million miles an hour and constantly hitting dead ends, you'd probably feel a little more comforted and a little less... crushed.

she waves a hand in front of you, as if gesturing to a marvellous new life. “we just need some time to rebrand you! some new girls, a fresh new concept, dye your hair some color we haven't done before and you're ready to hit the stage again!”

your eyes widen at that. “no.”

yuki straightens. “what do you mean, no?”

“i'm not joining a new group!”

“well you wouldn't be joining a group, you'd be the centre of a new group. the new group would be formed for you!”

“well i don't want that. i wanna be a solo artist now.”

there. you've said it. you've put the dreaded words out there, and now it's real. and judging by the way yuki's face falls, it's a reality that's not gonna come to fruition smoothly.

she straightens, her warmth leaving you. “oh.”

you bite your lip and look into her eyes. “just say it. tell me how terrible of an idea you think it is.”

“it's a terrible idea.”

she can probably see how your face falls, because yuki does something that yuki rarely does. she backtracks.

“or, what about a hiatus? you can go on a vacation! you can make a whole trip out of it, show how travel has healed you, you could even attend a few events with some international artists, and that could bring in a whole new crowd, huh?”

you put your face in your hands and shake your head, as you feel your phone buzzing away in your bag again. “yumi's already done the healing journey thing, and it's actually authentic to her.”

“yumi was never cut out for this life, don't compare yourself to her,” says yuki, her tone sharp. “of course she'd love frolicking in fields,” she grumbles.

you grin, despite her words. “yumi's doing great, by the way.”

“i know,” says yuki, folding her arms, “we've been in touch. you're attending the lauch party aren't you?”

“launch gathering,” you correct. “she's living a simple life now.”

“she can die."

“yuki!” you giggle.

“it's not the fact that she left -you know i'm all about ethical work, it's why i made a whole agency- it's that she did it so suddenly! we had had so many discussions where she swore up and down on her own volition that she'd renew the contract and all it took was a week for her to tear down this... this empire that we've built!”

“she's a simple girl.”

“a real simple person would know that they want a simple life from the beginning. which so called simple person auditions five times and then trains for years and then debuts to become the biggest girl group of the generation? and then just dips?”

“she just needed a taste of the high life to know what she really needed. like buddha.”

“people live and die for this life. people live and die for what she has. had,” she grumbles, “and what about all that talent? is she truly going to be satisfied doing the dishes in her little down to earth cafe?”

“she was more than content doing the dishes back when we were poor. she'll hardly be doing the dishes in her cafe, she's a milliona-”

“a simple millionaire.” you both say at the same time, and then burst into laughter.

“we are getting wildly off topic,” says yuki, after a beat.

you stare at your shoes. “i know.”

“any chance you're gonna wanna take back what you just said?” she asks, looking slightly like she pities you.

“no,” you reply, feeling and looking a lot more pitiful.

she sighs and takes the chair next to you. the two of you are silent for a moment, and that gives you some time to take in her office. when yuki had begun as a manager no one took her seriously. no matter how successful and glamourous her career as a wrestler was, she was still a newbie in the entertainment industry and had neither weight nor connections to her name. she used what little connections she had and started off as an assisstant in one of the entertainment giants and worked her way up to manager. what she lacked in her network, she made up for greatly with her charisma and eagerness to learn about the industry. and then she met you.

her golden duck that lay gold eggs, is what she called you.

you were sure you were just an ugly duckling that blossomed into a swan under her care, but whatever.

she got sick and tired of being controlled by people who barely cared for the craft and cared even lesser about humans they managed, so she broke off from the company to start her own. and through a leap of faith, you followed her.

and the rest is history.

her last championship's belt that sits right above her chair glints at you, pink and white, sparkling away in the sunlight. the office is so yuki. gaudy, but neat and professional. rhinestone embedded decor sits on shelves, reminiscent of the 2000s with the nice fur carpet and the literal disco ball that hangs from the ceiling. framed pictures of all the other groups and artists under Star City Entertainment decorate the walls, but your group is the highlight, with multiple pictures, much bigger than the others.

STARDUST, the group that made the company sky rocket.

yuki wheels the chair around to face you.

“why?”

“it just seems... correct.”

she purses her lips together. “i'd rather you not make me say it, but it's my duty as your manager to be frank with you. you don't really have what it takes to be a solo artist.”

“well, we can work on that, there are so many- ”

she holds a hand up. “especially after being a part of such a prominent group for so long. the general public love you but the fans already know that you neither write nor make the music. being involved in the behind the scenes is way more important to fans than before and it defines an artist a lot more these days. it gives them cause and meaning, some attachment to the craft that they're selling themselves with. you had yumi and seika to distract the fans from that before, but now it's just you. how long can you hold on to star power? and how far will that alone take you?”

the best thing about yuki is that she's brutally honest and always looks out for you. the worst thing about yuki is that she's brutally honest and always looks out for you.

it's as if her words have opened a chest of secrets that you had locked and chained deep inside you. your flaws were not flaws when you were in the group. they were just... things that you didn't need to do.

seika was good at producing and song writing, tasks that she was more than happy to have her hand in. yumi was musically talented beyond words. to date there hadn't been an instrument that she didn't excel in, and her voice seemingly knew no bounds, considering she had professional training to be an opera singer before this.

and you did everything else.

main dancer, the looks, the socializing, the personality... the star power, was all yours. if there was one thing that you had, it was what it took to be the it girl of the group, of the generation, and that combination of skills among the three propelled STARDUST and subsequently, Star City Entertainment to massive success that only grew as the years passed.

it was an open secret that this was the division among all of you. but everyone was okay with that. everyone was happy to perform their role, do what they excelled at and what was expected out of them. you all dabbled in each other's work, as you naturally would after these many years together, but the recipe to your success was the three of you, exactly as you were. and now it's just you. without them, there's nothing for you to stand on. there's nothing to add your special touch, your sparkle on to.

anyone could tell that.

the reality of the situation grips you like an ice cold fist and the hollowness that you felt ever since the decision was made public expands like a vast cavern beneath your feet. you are all out of tears, but your face still threatens to scrunch up with dry sobs as your lip wobbles.

“why don't you want to be a part of a group?” asks yuki.

“as if what we had can be replicated,” you mutter. “i really don't have it in me to start afresh with new girls who would definitely be younger than me and definitely have some buried animosity for me right from the beginning. oh, and the people. they already scrutinize us from the ends of our hair to the nails of our toes, i can already hear all the people talking about how i peaked with STARDUST and it's not gonna happen again. and what about GALAXY? they're not gonna take me being in another group lightly! i wouldn't even be ble to call them GALAXY anymore!”

“we don't necessarily have to have a three member group. maybe a five member group this time? that would lessen the direct focus on you and give the four other girls a chance to shine!”

“or it could give four other girls a chance to hate me more for stealing their spotlight if we do well, or for being dead weight if we don't.”

“we could scout some girls from other big groups that just disbanded! that girl from CROWN seems to be popular and jobless at the moment. what about her?”

“i just don't see it! don't you think the public knows that we'd just be trying to recreate STARDUST? also neither yumi nor seika are continuing in a group because both of them know that it was a one time thing. it's the exact same chemistry, or nothing! it'd be such a mess.”

“and even that is a safer option than you as a soloist.”

“wow,” you breathe, laughing, leaning back. “wow.”

“i never mean to hurt you.”

“wouldn't it be so funny if i went home and committed suicide after all this? then we wouldn't have to worry about what i'm gonna do next. my name will be remembered forever, i'm gonna go out with a bang- literally!”

“okay!” says yuki, throwing her hands up. "you're going on a hiatus! go on a vacation! find a new hobby, do whatever you want, i don't care- " she narrows her eyes and points a sharp finger at you, "and no, you cannot commit suicide!"

"geez, can't a girl joke?" you roll your eyes. "and i don't think it'd be wise for me to go on hiatus right now. i'd lose momentum and i'd lose my mind."

"finally, you're saying things that make sense. we haven't yet released any news of this, so you're safe. the public still thinks that STARDUST is on hiatus after the last tour so we have time. GALAXY has, however noticed that there's a lack of posts on seika's twitter and instagram, which we will be dealing with. you and yumi have been posting regularly and innocently enough, which is good. all in all, you'll be fine! the tour was enormous, so it would definitely make sense that you guys are on the dl now doing your own thing..."

she goes on about how doing nothing is okay, and your mind wanders to how it all began.

yumi had been sobbing almost every day ever since the last concert in the last venue. it had all started from there. she couldn't keep up with being an idol, and you couldn't blame her. yumi was never really the type. she was from an upper middle class family, and a musical genius. a sweet girl, who started off with posting covers on youtube and then began to look into joining a group, because she too knew that a group helps make up for what she lacked, which was everything else. and now, richer and more than satisfied with the taste she got of the idol life, she said she'd be happier in the food industry and going back to posting covers as and when she felt like it.

yumi's waning passion had set off seika too, frustratingly enough. seika was the opposite of yumi. she had joined the company as a producing intern which somehow led to her becoming a trainee, and when she always seemed to get the sound and the music for the concepts just right and picked up dance quick enough, there she was. she took it all in stride because everything seemed to work out just well, but even she knew that yumi leaving would finally give her an opportunity to come back to her origins and true passion.

your lip wobbles again, and you tune back to yuki just in time to hear her listing out things that you could do during hiatus.

" -of them are so fucking stupid, but i'm sure we can find someone sexy. a fun fling with an actor, how 'bout that? when was the last time you had a cute little scandal, huh? or you could study something, oh! you could do some volunteer work with animals, you used to be a horse girl, right? i think we could really- “

the door slams open, and the two of you jump at the sound. utahime iori stands at the doorway, mouth screwed up.

“are you incapable of picking up your phone?”

“hime!” you say, surprised.

“and what are you doing here?” asks yuki.

utahime ignores her. instead she makes her way to you, throwing her arms around you in a hug. she pulls back and looks into your eyes. “you're gonna be okay. so what if STARDUST disbands? you'll be the main girl of a new group!”

“see, even she thinks it'll be a great idea to be in a new group.”

“i wanna be a soloist,” you say dully staring at utahime's chest which is in eye level.

“exactly, and you're gonna be the greatest soloist ever!”

“oh please, not this again, i just talked her out of it!” yuki groans. “and how did you know about this? did you tell her?”

“no she didn't, have some faith in her. i put two and two together. seika's been more or less sleeping over in the studio with all the free time, yumi's gallivanting around the world, happier than ever and this one's been completely MIA other than the mandatory appearances at events. if they were gearing up for another comeback they would've been discussing concepts by now. also, i find it really insulting that you didn't tell me, ya know?” she concludes, looking down to you.

utahime iori, former trainee, part time choreographer/back up dancer but full time makeup artist to STARDUST. also, your closest friend. it's kinda sad that all your friends are more or less your co workers. yumi and seika, yuki and hime. now everyone's camaraderie is to test considering you're not really working together anymore. suddenly you realize that you don't even have a job anymore.

“she's doing her job. i'm doing my job. and what exactly are you doing?” asks yuki, now standing up.

“i'm doing my job!” says utahime.

yuki cocks her eyebrow.

“my jooob,” she falters, looking away for a second, “of being her best friend. yeah. someone needs to look out for her and care for her, as a person- ”

“and that's what you do, looking out for and taking care of people, huh?”

oh for fuck's sake. you're sitting between the two women who are standing over you, and in any other moment, you would've enjoyed being seated between two gorgeous arguing women, who most definitely need to fuck each other instead. you and utahime had been friends ever since she was a trainee in Star City, but yuki and utahime only really met when she was assigned as one of the official makeup artists for the group. nearly everyone had been victim of their terrible... flirtationship, as seika called it.

these fools are not flirting. not on purpose at least. they've been so enamoured and amazed by each other's existence that they just have to do something about it but that sinething never meant dating or kissing or fucking, it meant quarreling and irritating everyone till the end of time. they can't seem to fathom the idea of dating each other, or at least utahime can't. you do believe that yuki is warming up to the idea of it considering there's been less push from her side and more of her allowing utahime to speak over her. as much as one can speak over yuki that is.

“are you guys done flirting,” you say flatly, eyes closed.

“we're not flirting!” they both declare.

“good, because i wanna leave.”

“oh?” says utahime. you open your eyes and you see her glance towards yuki for half a second before determinedly looking back at you and nodding. “yes! let's go! we're leaving!”

it's sweet that she stands by you although she would definitely like to f̶l̶i̶r̶t̶ argue with yuki more.

“let's go!” she loops her arm around yours and pulls you up. you turn around to look at a slightly disappointed yuki.

“bye yu,” you mutter, giving her a half hearted hug.

she in turn wraps her arms around you and squeezes tight, almost lifting you off of the ground. “don't worry kiddo! it'll all work out. just... hang in there, okay? think about what i said!" she finishes, looking kind of awkward.

kiddo. she's really feeling terrible.

you feel bad, but not really. you're glad you managed to upset her this much, considering how she and well, everyone, had no qualms in upsetting you.

except utahime, that is.

you nod and give in to utahime's tugging and follow her.

"do you want me to stick my tongue out at her? or pull a face? i can pull really ugly faces, you know, right?" she whispers to you.

"have at it!" you snort, exiting the room as you watch utahime turn and pull a face at yuki which is quite the feat, considering how pretty she is.

the door shuts behind you and you make your way out the building with her, arm in arm in silence. utahime hums as the two of you go to the parking lot and get into one of the company cars, with a driver waiting for you.

the moment you shut the door and the car is moving out the building from one of the back exits, you thank god for tinted windows as you immediately lay down, your head in utahime's lap, sniffling.

“oh!” she gasps.

watanabe is nice enough to have raised the partition the moment he started the car. you stare blearily out the window as you pass buildings as utahime gently strokes and twiddles with your hair.

“i'm sorry,” she says softly. “i really am.”

“i'm sorry. you don't have a job anymore.”

“mm, makeup artists always have a job. i just need to talk to some people and get the ball rolling. i'm always down for collabs and teaching classes. i'll be fine. although i've heard that the NDA Star City is sending around would require for us to be quiet about our unemployment till you release an official statement.”

you nod, wondering about the near hundred people employed both directly and indirectly due STARDUST, and whether they have it all sorted, or if they're scrambling. like you.

you pull up the group chat and send a quick text telling the girls that you'd like to send a confidential broadcast to everyone that they could reach out if they had issues finding a job. neither of them have even received the message. obviously. you toss the phone back into your bag and curl into utahime's stomach.

“what am i gonna dooo?” you groan, inhaling her sweet perfume.

“have you considered going home? spending some time with your family?"

"that's just escapism." your parents are worlds apart from yours. two middle middle class engineers, and no siblings. they're very important to you, but unless they give you a solution to this... this mess, you don't want to go to one of your few safe spaces and ruin it with your hopelessness. you need something concrete. something real.

"you could also..." you look up to see hime's face scrunched up the way it usually does when she's gonna say something so fuck ass. "you know your unemployment is not the same as anyone else's unemployment, right? you're a millionaire! you coud drop off the face of the earth and live off of royalty and stocks alone. and then when you're bored you could start an exclusive luxury clothing line and enter the industry again! loads of people have done it!"

you stare at her.

"i'm sorry."

"you should be."

"do you want some ice cream?"

"yes. get some for watanabe san too. you're buying though, i'm unemployed now."

she flicks your nose before she asks watanabe to stop the car near an ice cream truck. utahime's popular, but only in the industry. regardless, she snaps on a face mask and heads out to the truck.

what if you became a host. like for a show like too hot to handle or single's inferno. what if you joined a show. you could enter like a special contestant in the middle and topple the social heirarchy that was established there. the analysis videos would be come aplenty with that one, oh and so would the downfall of the generation's it girl video essays. you don't watch or consume news/media about yourself but you do watch a lot of video essays so what would you do if one of your favourite youtubers made one about you? you could hang yourself and give them more to talk about. no, that's way too serious, even for you. what if you got a regular--

"-- and here we have roasted almond for my baby! and plain ol' vanilla for watanabe san, no, put your wallet down! we insist!"

you bristle, getting up from still being curled up on the backseat. leaning back, you lick the side of the cone that has ice cream threatening to dribble down your hand and wonder if this really is the end of it all.

"it is."

“um, should i perhaps inform gojo san of the time? i don't think it's healthy to-- "

"ijichi."

"i'm sorry! just give me five minutes, i will be back!"

kento watches as ijichi scurries away round the corner. he sighs. he never means to be short with ijichi but anything that doesn't directly contribute to solving an issue at hand doesn't require more than a simple conversation, let alone an entire back and forth.

it's even more insulting that ijichi thinks that satoru has any say over how long he's working. satoru wouldn't care less if he worked from his office or if he worked from a rager in aruba. he thinks he'd even prefer it.

speaking of satoru, he hasn't seen him the entire day. they hadn't had any meetings that required more than a phone call and one he had meeting with suguru, but suguru had been happy to come over to his office to talk. just the thought of the two of them makes his eyes immediately unwillingly flit over to the other side of the floor. to the wide office far opposite to him, past the darkness of the empty cublicle space, he can see the yellow light from one of satoru's newer lamps on and the blinds shut. a wave of irritation passes through him before he forcibly dismisses the thought, aching for the bitter taste of the coffee he's awaiting.

he has work to do.

he slides his spectacles back down to his nose bridge from where they were perched on his forehead and cringes with the initial burn from staring at the screen. has his power increased? he should get it checked and changed, he notes down mentally.

“nanamin!”

oh he is going to gut ijichi alive.

he looks up and it seems that ijichi seems to value his life because he's made himself scarce. instead at his office door, bouncing from one foot to the other, swaying from side to side, clearly not caring for the well being of the coffee in his hand is gojo satoru.

“and where is ijichi?” asks kento, motioning for his coffee.

satoru takes that as an invitation to enter and sprawl his upper half over kento's desk, smiling face staring down at him, coffee still in his hand. kento snatches it back carefully. clearly he's going to need it now more than ever.

“ijichi came cowering to my office saying that my cute kouhai's on his eighth coffee of the day! made it seem like i'm some terrorizing dictator making his precious nanami san work overtime. that's hardly the truth now, is it?” he says, pulling a sad face, expectantly looking at kento.

kento sips his coffee. “ijichi did not make this.”

“and he never could! i sent him home. i made the coffee myself, you're welcome. one could call me a humble man.”

kento grunts. one never would. however both of them knew that while ijichi's coffee is what he expected, satoru made his taste... unfortunately nice.

“i'm nearly done. i'll just finish looking over this bit and then i'm packing. you can go back to your office.” he waves to satoru, eyes back on the screen. placebo effect or not, the caffeine makes sifting through all the numbers a little less of a task this time.

there's silence as kento makes his way down the document, making sure that it was up to expectations, the only sound being the squeak of his chair as he leans forward at times to see something more clearly.

“are you done yet? because i finished reading that almost a minute ago and it's all good.”

satoru's made his way to behind kento and is leaning over his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.

kento exits out of the document with a smash of keys. “what do you want?” he bellows.

satoru reaches out to his computer, shutting it down over kento's head, literally, and then spins kento to face him. if kento ground his teeth anymore, he'd have a mouth full of powder.

“i need you.”

“you have three seconds, maximum.”

“okey dokey. i'm inviting superstar it girl of our generation, the only icon more iconic than me, celestial beauty siren to the party.”

kento nods, getting up to leave. “amazing. i'll try to contain my excitement."

“it will not be easy,” says satoru, pushing kento down. he scoots his ass onto his table, chin in hand. “it won't be easy at all.”

kento rolls his eyes. “and why is that,” he says, flatly.

that actually makes satoru fully direct his attention to him, a grin spreading across his face. “boy, do i have some gossip for you!” he cackles. “but you need cross your heart and hope to die pwomise not to tell anyone what i'm just about to tell you!”

kento crosses his heart with one finger, head in hand.

“okay so initially i wanted to invite the whole damn group because duh, that's how the magic happens, but imagine the resistance i got from the company like damn not a single bitch in that building is available to speak to? i almost pulled a do you know who you're talking to? so i dug deep. or rather i bullied megumi to dig deep until i had to enter the field and take matters into my own hands. pull up a few contacts, ask a few favors- ”

“why is this one band so important to you?”

“group. girl group. anyways guess what i found!” satoru doesn't leave kento any time to answer, not that he had any answers. he leans forward conspiringly, his eyes a mix of mischief and malice. “STARDUST... is no more.”

“they died?” kento starts, taken aback. satoru's gossip was neither worth sharing nor listening, but for once he had delivered some quality news. a girl group that big? japan would be in shambles. nobara would be in shamles, he realizes.

“this is worse. they broke up!”

“and how is that worse?” he stands up, tired of this conversation. he straightens himself and begins to pack for home, putting things in place in record speed. there's yesterday's leftovers waiting for him, along with a new bottle of wine he would definitely need after the day that he had had. satoru follows him, and before kento can react he snatches his briefcase away from him, holding it hostage.

“it's terrible! i cannot fathom a reason why! what they have is... is once in a lifetime stuff, and they're throwing that away for what? the industry loves them, and GALAXY...” he sniffles, “and the girls...” he mumbles, looking at his feet, head downcast, pouting.

“i'm sure you'll be fine. within days there will be a new group of 20 somethings singing and dancing and -”

“don't you see how much pressure there is on me now?” exclaims satoru, now hugging the briefcase, his lips twisted into a frown. “i promised the girls that they're gonna get a surprise! i can't just turn up with only one 'em!”

“who?”

“nanako and mimiko!" he whispers. "don't tell suguru!"

oh. oh god. the gloom that's been in him grows and kento almost loosens his tie to breathe.

kento purses his lips, moving to snatch his briefcase and satoru dodges out the way. "give it to me!" he hisses, "unlike you, i don't have time to waste over silly whims of children."

satoru scoffs. "you would move heaven and earth for yuuji, even nobara! silly whims of children, my ass! you spoil them rotten!"

"i spoil them a reasonable amount, none of which is your business. invite them all, invite none, i don't care. just today i went through mountains of reports. i've been buried in these numbers all day, trying to forecast next quarter's revenue and-"

"kento please." satoru's looking at him with a wrinkle between his brows, and he can't help but take in how ridiculous he looks. hair mussed from running his fingers through them and his glasses are nowhere to be seen. he's blinking more than usual because of it too. the ceo of the infinity hotels, gojo satoru hassled over the breakup of a girl group seems laughable, but kento begrudgingly suspects what this means for him. the ticket to the nice big happy-

“you've never cared for those girls before. what changed now?”

“i've cared for those girls!” he squaks. “i care about all children.”

kento just looks at him.

satoru doubles down. “i care about megumi, and yuuji and even young kugisaki, even though she barely acknowledges my presence. i care about your kids, so,” he shrugs. “it's only natural that i care about my partner's kids! all my partner's kids,” he adds.

satoru is an amazing liar. kento knows what satoru looks like when he lies well. and kento knows that satoru's lying right now, and he's so lov- lost that he doesn't even realize how badly he's lying. he almost gags.

"i'm asking you this as a friend," continues satoru. "i know..." he looks away, his eyes bouncing about the room. "i know things have been... rocky recently, i've been too busy with work, and patching things up with suguru, and the girls because i think" his voice softens, “i think it'll work out this time. infinity's been doing great, all the time and money's finally paid off, suguru's parents have finally- it's nearly been a fucking decade- come around and let me off the handle for making... um, influencing suguru to drop out, and the girls are old enough to let suguru at least entertain the thought of dating. i just... need to win them over a little!”

the question hangs in the air between them, and kento knows that satoru wishes he won't reach out and address. regarding any otehr issue relation to satoru, kento gladly wouldn't. however-

“but why?”

“it's... it's suguru!” is all satoru says, faltering. “he's my best friend, and he's your friend too. i want to do something nice for him, and you know he loves his daughters!” satoru pumps his arm with a guffaw that sounds all too full of fake enthusiam. or rather real enthusiasm, but something else.

the weary look on satoru's face turns something in kento. he has almost never in the last thirteen years of knowing satoru ever seen him so... genuinely concerned for anything. not when they made this company, not when their first hotel launched, hell not even when his parents nearly cut him off for all the risks. only one man made him quiver so, and he'd do anything for him. the rest of the men and materials around him were just collateral damage.

he swallows. fixes his tie and looks away. “what do you want from me?” he grits out.

satoru lights up like a christmas tree. he pulls out his phone and wow- there's an entire spreadsheet's worth of information he has compiled.

“okay, so from what i've gathered, mirage is on a complete hiatus from everything and melody is either out of the country or has left the industry entirely... or both. i'd still like you too check- ” he glances up at kento and takes in his lost look. he rolls his eyes.

“okay grandpa. mirage,” he says slowly, “is the stage name of seika. this one,” he points at a girl with a halo of curls and loads of freckles. “and melody is the stage name of yumi, who is this.” he is now looking at a rather plain but sweet looking girl.

he pulls his glasses on and looks closer. “i think i've seen them before.”

“yeah no shit you've seen them before, they're literally japan's pride,” mutters satoru. “anyways. this, is siren. also known as the celestial beauty siren, her actual...” he goes on, his eyes lighting up as he talks about this siren.

kento looks at the picture. and well. he knew next to nothing about your singing capabilities but looks wise, they weren't joking around when they named you siren. and to make it even more accurate the public called you celestial beauty siren. the picture is of you smiling up at him, like you knew exactly what you were.

“so what exactly do you want me to do?” he asks, giving the phone back.

“i need all of them here, so you'll have to make some phone calls. at the moment, melody and mirage are allegedly MIA but i need you to be a hundred percent sure first. best case scenario we're getting all three. worst case scenario we're getting just one and in this case it's siren. we- ”

“wouldn't the worst case scenario be that we're getting none? and if they're broken up i doubt some company's launch party will be on their list of things to care about.”

“well!” satoru claps, “good thing we're not just some company! we're infinity hotels! we're limitless, and if you work hard enough- ”

“we work hard enough”

“you work hard enough, there isn't a chance that we're getting none of 'em! come on kento, you can do it!”

“why is this suddenly no longer a group project?”

“oh it is a group project, yes yes,” satoru nods sagely. “between you and megumi that is.”

kento tsks and steps back, looking up and down at satoru and his audacity that seems to have grown ten feet taller than him. at least he has the decency to look embarassed.

“i am the cfo of this company. so why, pray tell, would i be tasked to snoop around the well concealed affairs of some pop girl group with your assistant who's barely out of university?”

satoru wrings his hands. “i'm too busy, and there's no way to do all this without them finding out! it's not the same as inviting any regular celebrity especially considering all the strings i pulled to get confidential information! if it's not a meeting with ten boring senior citizens that fret over the same bullshit, it's date nights with- date nights, or my family being on my ass about something or the other, or trying and failing to bond with the girls- ”

“you just had to open your stupid mouth and ask if they could be returned to the kennel the moment you met them, didn't you?”

“how the fuck could i have known that they were forced to live in a literal cage?”

“oh imagine that. how bizarre it is that every child on this planet wasn't born with a silver spoon in their mouth and five maid servants to run around after them.”

“exactly, and now they're getting to wear miu miu and party with the closest things we have to magical girls in real life. they'll think i'm amazing, we all win.”

kento rubs his temple, feeling the beginning of a dull headache.

“fine. which ones are their favourite,” he sighs, hoping to reach the end of this conversation. he's going to be having the leftovers and ordering in tonight, he assures himself .

“i got nothing,” shrugs satoru.

“they're just three girls, which one do they talk about the least?”

“ehhh,” he says, tilting his head to the side, pulling a face. “they kinda stop talking whenever i'm around and just glare at me till i leave.”

“okay, then ask megumi to ask them.”

“he's blocked on every platform.”

“then ask suguru!”

“and how would that come up naturally in a conversation? and i don't want him to have the slightest clue about all this, i can't just ask suguru!”

“ask me what?”

the two men whip their heads to the sound of the deep yet silky voice coming from the doorway. geto suguru stands, leaning against the frame. his eyes move from satoru to kento to satoru again. he's in the usual work attire, except his hair is down, and the necklaces he usually keeps tucked into his shirt hangs out in front. he purses his lips and folds his arms. he clears his throat. “ask me what?” he repeats, sounding less... breathy this time.

“nothing,” chokes out satoru.

it's amazing how much he's effected. even the greatest liars seem to fall short at their game.

suguru turns to kento instead. “kento?”

“if you were willing to review some of the reports with me. the workload's been piling up recently, and i thought it would be more effecient if we had an extra pair of eyes to clarify some things.”

suguru's eyes widen. “of course! just send them over tomorrow morning. and satoruuu...” he drags out his name, eyes sliding to the other man, who's been standing in silence. “why couldn't you ask me, huh?”

satoru straightens immediately, pulling an easy grin. “wouldn't wanna bother you, late night and all. that would be unprofessional.”

“it's hardly unprofessional to come ask me for help. especially when kento here is burning the midnight oil too, isn't he? come talk to me next time, yeah? both of you,” he adds at the end, to kento too.

kento would rather they beat him to death with a bat than drag him into whatever perverse flirtation this is.

“all right then. i'll send over the reports tomorrow morning. now if that's all, i'm going to head out.” satoru's hands still clutching kento's briefcase are limp enough for him to snatch it away from him. he gives satoru a sharp nod.

“good night kento!" wishes suguru warmly as he passes him at the doorway.

a “good night” sits at the tip of his tongue. he turns to face suguru and pulls on a smile. "you've put on satoru's blazer instead, by the way. good night."

the quick blink of suguru's otherwise relaxed purple eyes is a small win. he leaves before he hears whatever suguru has to say.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.