#though “the end of the world” feels a bit uhhh routine at this point in thedas

[mossattack]

love me some age difference in my ships, but i'm seriously entertaining the possibility of making a rook that is closer to emmrich's age than to that of the others in the team. two reasons: first of all, i think it would be extremely fun to be old judgemental queens together; second of all, the inherent romanticism of both parties coming to terms with their single life, thinking "well, maybe it's too late for me" only to find each other in the worst possible moment (the literal end of the world)

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 2

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 2: What’s in a Name?

It was a week since Macaque had taken MK in and to the child it has been the best week of his life. When he woke up in the mornings he didn’t have to worry about there being no food as he smelt it as soon as he opened his eyes, he could play in the forest with all the monkeys as long as Mac was there and he even had clothes that fit him instead of the same stinky shirt on days end. Everything was just wonderful.

“MK, what should we do about school?”

Or at least it was, but as soon as the monkey demon asked that question, MK's whole body deflated. “Do I have to go to school?”

“Education is important shooting star,” he said as he diced up some plants. “It helps things we don’t know and things we want to know.”

“Okay, but it is really boring, I always lose all my stuff all the time, and the teacher always explains it so weirdly,” the child pouted.

“Everyone has a different method of teaching, so you may have a method of learning as well.”

“Oohh….what does method mean?”

“It’s just another word for way.”

“Oh okay,” MK then tilts his head, “so what are you doing anyways?”

“Well right now I’m cutting up some herbs so I can use to make medicine,” he explained in simple terms as he then picked up the diced up blue plant and placed it into a cauldron and began to stir it.

“I didn’t know you could make your own medicine from home!” He leaped up and tried to poke his head over the counter to watch, “I always thought that you get it at the doctor's office.”

“Well doctors actually get it from a lab where people make the medicine there, this space here is my own lab.” He gestured to the room that was filled with all types of different ingredients all placed in a package inside of one storage cabinet and in another was a cabinet filled with modern lab equipment.

“So you don’t have to be a doctor to make medicine?”

“Well for most yeah, but for me,” he grinned as he picks up MK with one hand and placed him on his hip as he continues to stir with his other “let’s just say that I have been doing this for a little over 500 years, so I have a tad bit more experience and knowledge than regular humans.”

“Can I try?!” He excitedly asked.

“Well I don’t know, sometimes it will be a bit too dangerous for you to even be In here, which by the way, do not enter this lab unless I am here,” he sternly told him.

“Okay, okay got it, but pleaseee.”

“I don’t know, think you can handle it,” he teased.

“I’m a big boy! I can handle anything!”

“Hmmmm,” he pretended to think before conceding, “Alright you persuaded me, so I’ll allow it this once,” he said as he put the spoon down, “so first we make sure we have our safety gear on.”

“Check! Check!” MK adjusted the goggles on his eyes and showed off his long sleeve jacket and gloves.

“Next, what you have to do is go slow and make large circles.”

“Slow and large circles, got it,” he then proceeded to pick up the spoon and do what he said as he stirred.

“Good job kiddo, but how bout we make that circle a little bit bigger,” he gently grabbed MK’s hand and made it a bit wider. Soon enough the medicine's previous light yellow had transformed into a dark green.

“Look, it changed colors!” MK pointed out.

“That’s the beauty of medicine kid,” Mac grinned as he set him down, “now all I have left to do is to let this simmer for a few hours and it will be ready to be bottled up.”

“That’s a lot of medicine, is that all for you?”

The demon shook his head, “no it’s actually for one of my regular clients. His students routinely injure themselves, sometimes in the dumbest of ways, so I usually make batches of this every month.” His ears then slightly twitch as he grinned, “speaking of students, MK come here. I have someone here for you to meet.”

“Who?” He tilted his head as the monkey put a lid on a pot, proceeded to put away both of their safety gear as they left the room.

“Hey old-timer, I know your hearing isn’t that bad!” A voice yelled from down below that MK could barely hear, “come grab me, I’m carrying too much shit to climb up!”

“Someone to help,” was all Macaque said before he leaped out of the open window and less than a few seconds later, returned with a short bluenette woman in his arms. “MK this is Yanyu,” he said. “Yanyu, this is MK.”

“Uhhh, he shuffled his feet awkwardly as he gave a slight wave, “hi.”

“Awww,” she cooed at him, “it’s nice to meet you MK. You're rocking a pretty cool shirt there.” She pointed to his solar system shirt, “it’s really far out man.”

There was a pause as MK stuttered out a thank you and Macaque put his face in his hands.

“That was terrible, I hope you know that,” he groaned.

“That’s what you say, I know my puns are rockin my world,” she smirked at the louder groans.

“Please stop, I beg you.”

“Then beg.”

“Are you human?” MK bluntly asked, which made the two pause.

“Strangely enough that isn’t the first time I was asked that, but yes I am fully human. Though a small percentage of me is most likely full of crazy,” she grinned widely.

“I think you have those backward,” he muttered and didn’t even flinch when she elbowed his stomach. “So your probably wondering why she’s here right?”

“Uhhh yeah,” he nodded.

“Well, I have come to the realization that despite my many years with humans, I have never actually taken care of a human child outside of giving them medication.”

“Which he means that he knows not a single thing about taking care of you tiny ones,” Yanyu butted in as she crossed her arms, “and this is where I come in.”

“Oh well that’s good...I think?” MK didn’t exactly know what she meant, but since they said it’s a good thing, he feels like he doesn’t have any complaints.

“Oh trust me, it will be,” she said as she put down the bag and it was filled with books when she opened it up. “I may be a big sister of five, but even I can admit that I don’t know everything, so I brought some parenting books, nutrition, school, and a lot more.”

He couldn’t help but deflate slightly at the last word, which the bluenette noticed.

“Don’t like school?”

“Not really, it's just that I can’t stay focused sometimes,” he admitted as he lowered his head.

“Hey now,” Mac kneeled and ruffled his head, “you don’t have to feel shame for being distracted sometimes.”

“Hmm, well if you have troubles with traditional school classrooms, then how about you try online schooling?” Yanyu said.

“Online school?” MK tilted his head.

“I didn’t know it was also available for the younger grades, I thought it was only for the college classes like you had,” he admitted as he used his feet to pick up one of the parenting books.

“Nah, it was incorporated for all years a few years back. It certainly helped a lot of students out and one of them being me,” she proudly pointed a finger to herself, “let me tell you, kid, it was the second-best decision to do online school. Made my life so much easier.”

“What was the first?” He curiously asked.

Yanyu walked over to Macaque and patted him on the shoulder, “begging this ol doc here to take me on as a student. It was the cheapest and most informative learning I ever had since high school.”

“Student? You were a teacher!” MK's eyes widened as he looked at the monkey demon.

“Kinda, though I did question my sanity during those times,” he said as he flipped through the pages.

“Oh shut up, if it wasn’t for me you would still know squat about technology.”

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were still using the Jiaguwen system when I first met you.”

He winced, “okay yeah you got me there.”

“Anywho, it’s gonna be a right pleasure working with you MK,” she held out a fist bump to him, “we’re gonna see a lot of each other.”

MK looked at the outstretched fist and gave a little grin as he fist-bumped her hand.

“Boom,” Yanyu made an exploding sound as she opened her fist when the two parted.

He looked at her strangely.

“Don’t worry Starbright, she’s just weird like that,” Mac patted his head.

“Hey!”

A few months have passed and MK has taken to online schooling like a fish to water. He found it much better to concentrate and while there were still a few issues over understanding the problem itself, he had the help of both Macaque and Yanyu. The last one herself was helping him with his writing.

“The girl is walking to the market by the river to get milk for her mother,” MK repeated to himself as he finished writing.

“Congratulations kid, you have finally graduated from Yoda writing to a regular language,” she gave him a little applause.

“Thank you, thank you you're too kind,” he also jumped out of his seat to give a mock bow.

“But for real kid, you have really approved with your writing,” she gave him a high five, “nice job.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you both,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“I know that you would have been just fine even without our help and I know your dad would agree.”

“Really!” Then MK realized what she said and backtracked as he flailed his arms about, “Wait dad?! I mean dad is kinda a big word and he just adopted me, so he probably doesn’t even see me as a son, more like a responsibility he has to take care-,” he was stopped by a hand gently covering his mouth.

“Whoa there little monkey easy, I can’t keep up that fast,” she lightly teased as she put her hand down, “now you want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Well,” he sat down and kicked his feet, “I-its just-I don’t really-.”

“Take your time,” the bluenette said.

“Well,” he twisted his hands “is it okay if someone-and I don’t mean me just someone I know-don’t call mom and dad, well, mom and dad.”

“Yeah,” she said easily.

“Wait really?” He was a little more than shocked at how easy she said that.

“Really. You, or my bad that person you know, don’t feel comfortable or don’t want to call their parents so that they don’t have to.”

“But they gave birth to me-I mean that person and they raised them, so shouldn’t they have that name?” He tried to insist but was shut down by her shaking her head.

“They don’t keep that name if they harm the child, no parent ever deserves that kind of title if they purposely try to bring harm to their child. It is wrong,” she stated.

“Oh...and what about those that do?” He shyly said, both knowing what he was implying but not saying it out loud.

“Then you say it when your ready,” Yanyu simply said.

“I don’t think it’s that easy?”

“No, but what is?”

MK just shrugged his shoulders.

“Now how about we put away this stuff for ten more minutes before we get into history,” she pushed away from the materials and made sure the laptop was charged up.

“Yes!” He fist-bumped the air as he then spotted the pencil on the ground and tried to pick it up with his feet.

Yanyu had to press her lips together to fight against the bubbling laugh in her throat as she watched MK struggle to pick the pencil with the socks on his feet.

“Oi bastard I need a little help ova here!” A rough voice yelled out as it was followed by a loud bang, which led to the eight year old flailing off his bed.

“How many times have I told you to stop that?” He heard Macaque's familiar voice being annoyed.

“Too many times to count,” another softer voice replied.

“But you think that gunna sticka?” The third voice laughed out loud. “That’s a laugh!”

MK slowly opened his door and crept quietly to the living room as the voices got louder.

“I guess it is too much to ask you to be quiet for once?” The monkey deadpanned.

“Now why would I do that?” The first voice said.

It was at this point that MK managed to poke his head into the living room and saw three different demons, he knows they are demons this time, and his da-Macaque.

There was one whose skin was dark brown, but lighter above the shoulders. The more he looked, the more he could see that they were actually feathers all along the body, and instead of hands, they had clawed bird-like feet and two large black wings protruding from the back.

Another one was softly glowing a light blue hue that matched the pale blue skin as the creature was gently floating just a smidge above the ground. They had almost a mushroom-shaped hat covering their eyes and dozens of dark blue and purple strings attached all around the bottom of the hat as they hung just above the demon feet.

The final one is something that MK could clearly tell what it was as he had seen a bunny before, though this one was way larger than the other bunnies he had ever seen. The demon had pure gray fur and large white fluffy paws, if he wasn’t so nervous right now he would ask to pet them.

“Well I was hoping that you would have kept it down for the kid that is currently living with me right now,” he cracked a smirk at their frozen faces.

“Huh?” They all said in unison.

“Speaking of kids, you can come out MK. Don’t worry bout them too much, they ain’t harmful, just insane.”

At the prompting MK slowly shuffled into the living room and he saw three heads swivel towards him.

“Uhhh hi,” he gave a little wave.

“You have a kid?!?” They all shouted either loudly or softly.

“It’s not that big of a shock,” he grumbled as he walked over to the child and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, these knuckleheads woke you up.”

“I know I have not been gone that long for you to have a chick without me knowin!” The female bird demon squawked as her feathers puffed up in indignation.

“Nah, adopted him a few months back.”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” The bunny huffed as they thumped his foot in agitation.

“Nope,” he grinned as he watched their growing frustration.

“There are times where you are the best of us and times you are the worst of us, I don’t know which one this falls under,” the mushroom head demon groaned as one of the strings was massaging the top of his head.

“Are they your friends?” MK loudly whispered to the monkey demon.

“I don’t claim these lunatics,” he bluntly said.

“I think you mean to say that we are your amazing, wonderful, fantastic friends that you hold dear,” the bunny demon pointed out as they put an arm around his shoulder.

“I was forced into this,” Macaque said as a wing wrapped around the two of them.

“Ah just admit that you have a soft fuzzy heart for us,” the bird demon grinned.

“Not even when my bones decay away.”

MK just blinked at the unprompted scene as he saw the glowing blue demon approach him.

“Sorry about my companions, they can be a little much sometimes,” he smiled softly to him.

“It’s fine, you're not the only ones who make a loud entrance,” he thought back to the times Yanyu would kick the door open when she walked in.

“I suppose not,” the demon then held out one of his arms to the child, making sure his tentacles were out of the way, “my name is Bohai little one.”

“I’m MK,” he smiled back and shook his hand.

“Oh, we’re doing introductions?! Well, I’m Daiyu chicky,” the female demon grinned or at least that's what he thought she was doing with her scarred beak.

“I’m Minsheng,” the bunny demon twitched their nose and gave a toothy grin, “you're so small that you remind me of my siblings when they were born.”

“How many siblings do you have?” He curiously asked.

“Pfft older or younger? I stopped counting after we reached the 200s,” they laughed.

His eyes widened, “over 200! That’s a lot of brothers and sisters.”

“Well, you know how bunnies are.”

Before MK could question that he felt two furry hands cover his ears.

“How about we don’t talk about that to a kid who has probably never had a crush before,” Macaque hissed to the bunny who had their hands held up.

“He’ll learn eventually.”

“But I would rather have that explained to him by literally anyone but you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Anyways,” the monkey took his hands off MK’s ears, “what were you screeching about earlier?”

“Oh well I got a bit nicked with some of dem cretins after a territory dispute you know how it is and,” Daiyu turned around and showed her back...which had a few knives sticking out of it. “I got a bit scratched up in the tussle.”

“At least you had the sense not to take it out,” he couldn’t help but sigh. “You at least win?”

“Who do ya think your talkin to?” She proudly puffed up her feathers.

“And people say I have too much pride, you damn vultures take the cake,” Macaque rolled his eyes as the two of them walked towards the infirmary room.

“You say that as if you never met Flicker before,” she chortled.

“Well there’s a stark difference between you two.”

“Wha that?”

“He actually has a brain.”

“Hey!” She attempted to pull his dangling fur, but he ducked away in time.

“Can I stay up a little longer!” The seven year old asked before the door could shut.

“Only for a little bit, but when I get back it’s straight to bed.” He answered back and then the door closed.

“Thank you!” He called out regardless as he fully knew that he could hear him.

“And that’s the whole lot of us kid, we're only half as insane as curly made us out to be '' Minsheng joked.

“Almost all of us,” the jellyfish demon said.

“Who you? Ha! Hate to break it to you, but the last time you lost your patience was when they didn’t make your starfish the way you wanted and you paralyzed the entire cooking staff.”

“You didn’t have to bring that up, but no not me,” he waved one of his tendrils. “I meant Ahmed.”

“I didn’t include him in the first place because that man does not even classify as insane,” he bluntly said. “He has the patience of a monk to deal with our brand of insanity which, in hindsight, is insane itself.”

“Whose Ahmed?” MK asked, “is he another friend of d-Mac?”

The two looked at each other before Baiyu spoke, “yeah, he’s a friend of Macaque.”

“Ouch, that’s a low blow for poor Med,” they grinned then winced as a tendril shocked their arm. “What? You know I’m right.”

“You know as well as I do that he can still hear you.”

“I’ve been craving death anyways,” they then turned back to the kid, “so you want to hear some crazy stories about your old man.”

Needless to say that Mac had tackled the bunny demon to the ground, with two violet glowing escrima sticks in hand, in the middle of their story on how the fierce monkey demon had to dance his way across a road of hot coal as he tried to outrun an angry herd of demon pheasant while wearing a rather beautiful kimono.

Macaque was reading out on the patio when his ears twitched as he heard a soft whimpering coming from MK’s room. He put the book on the table when he walked in and safely crept his way over his room and like many times before MK was crying in his sleep from a nightmare once more.

“It’s okay shooting star,” he gently began to thread his fingers through MK’s hair, “it's just a bad dream. You will be fine.”

At first, it didn't have any effect, but the longer he talked the softer the whimpers began to die down and the kid's eyes softly began to blink open.

“W-what's goin on?” He hoarsely said as he rubbed his eyes as he realized that he wasn’t dreaming anymore.

“You just had a bad dream kid,” he hummed as he continued stroking his hair.

“Oh.”

“Want to talk about it?” He received a firm shake of his head, “that’s okay, do you want to lie back down, sing, water, or want me to give you a little shadow puppet show?”

“Shadow show please,” he muffled out as he gripped tighter onto the blanket.

“One show coming right up,” he used a shadow clone to bring back a lantern as the room began to softly glow. When all was set Macaque began his tale in a low voice, “There once was an old man who lived in a shack.” He used some of his shadows to show a picture of an elderly man and wooden shack, “he was nothing special, did nothing extraordinary, and his life was simply normal. Until one day he happens upon the most peculiar thing.”

He continued to tell the tale of the old man even when he, unknowingly, had wrapped his tail around his child’s hand and MK, who was slowly drifting off into a deep slumber, held a tight grip upon it.

MK was currently sitting on the edge of a large lake as he kicked his feet in the water. He was alone at the moment as the monkey demon was tending to the plants that he needs for various medicines. The lake itself was a beautiful view filled with lily pads, reeds standing tall in the crystal lake, fishes and herons swimming in the water. Though he was trying to guess what that large dark shape was, it was nothing he has ever seen before.

“Hmmm I don’t think it’s a fish...maybe a duck?” He leaned in to get a better look and noticed. “Or maybe a turtle!”

The shape shifted as it appeared to be getting bigger and bigger as MK now noticed that he had never seen a turtle with long arms and claws before. He then saw there was long string hair upon what he thinks is its head until suddenly it disappeared and was replaced with two beady eyes. His heart dropped when the creature opened its mouth to reveal countless rows of sharp, pointed teeth. Then it began to rapidly swim towards him.

MK, frightened, fell on his back as he tried to crawl away, but it failed as the creature burst out of the water and onto the ground merely a foot away from him.

He let out a piercing scream, “DDAAADDDDD!”

At the same time the creature, with his mouth wide, said “hi there human child!”

“What?” He abruptly stopped his screaming right as an ominous force suddenly filled up the area as MK then felt two familiar hands scoop him up and hold him close as the voice spoke almost lowly.

“What happe-oh it’s just you,” Macaque let the pressure go back to normal once he realized that there wasn’t a true threat that was trying to attack his kid.

“Bwahahaha,” the creature let out a bellowing laugh, “sorry sorry. I must have scared your youngin.”

“No!” MK instantly said, but then he wilted and nodded, “just a bit.”

“Sorry about that little child, I just get a bit excited when a new face comes around my lake and all,” the webbed creature gave a toothy grin. “I know I startled the pant off Minzhe when I first met him.”

“Your lake? You live here?” MK, after being let down, carefully tried to examine the waters closer.

“Right on the mark, since being a Shui Gui and all.”

“Shui Gui,” he drawled out as he thought about that familiar name.

“Or Kappa, our damn naming changes so often that at this point I just go with the flow.”

“Oh! I know what a Shui Gui is!” MK brightened as he began to tell what his...mom used to tell him. “Aren’t they vengeful demons that have drowned and are bent on dragging helpless victims underwater, drowning them and finally eating their...flesh to…to...” his face took on a look of horror as he realized what he just blurted out. “I am so sorry!”

Luckily though the two demons chuckled, or at least Macaque did as the Kappa was holding his stomach. Though this did make MK’s face flush in embarrassment, he should be glad that the demon wasn’t angry, but he didn’t find any humor in what he said.

“Well I’ll give you credit,” Kappa said as his laughter died down, “what you said was mostly true, except I’m not a demon, just a ghost.”

“And let’s be clear he hasn't eaten people since two-maybe three millenniums ago,” the monkey demon intruded as he knew what MK was gonna ask next.

“You humans have become much too stringy for my taste,” he joked, but it served the opposite purpose as the small child paled even further.

“And this is why your only friend is an adrenaline junkie who has a taste for his own death,” Mac deadpanned as he soothed MK down.

After his heart stopped thrumming in his ears the human managed to look up at his guardian and his eyes widened as he noticed that Macaque suddenly had three pairs of different colored ears: red, blue, and purple. “When did you get three ears?!”

“You just now noticed?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Did you have them all this time?!?!!”

“Not all the time, but I do when it’s quiet usually.”

“Cooolll!” He attempted to climb the monkey to get a better look, “Is this how you're able to hear things from so far away?”

“Yeah,” he lets him examine his ears as only his eye minuscule twitch when MK accidentally pulls it too hard. “Be careful now, only have three pairs of them you know.”

“Right, sorry.” He apologized as he became gentler with his touches. He couldn’t help but gently drag his fingers through the oddly pointed ears and he smiled, now he understood why some of Mac's clients called him the Six-Eared Macaque. He eventually got down and faced the spirit once more, who was just looking at the two of them with amusement. “I’m real sorry for screaming at you.”

“Water under the bridge young child,” he waved him off, “least you apologize for it. I know that half the ones in these woods won’t even say sorry for ramming into you.”

“There’s more of you?” He tried to look in the lake, but he was once again met with only fish and water.

“Me specifically no, but spirits, demons, and other whatnot. Oh yeah there's hundreds of them dwelling in this here forest.”

“Wowww,” his eyes sparkled, “so does that mean that we are all neighbors.”

It was stunned silence before the Shun Gui began laughing once more as he bends down, “PFFTHAHAHA!”

“Did I say something funny?” MK looked towards Mac who was pinching his nose once more.

“No, he’s just obnoxious, that’s all.”

“You know what I like you kid, yeah we’re all neighbors, man even Ping would get a laugh out of this,” the water spirit said after his laughter died down. “Welcome to the neighborhood MK!”

“Thanks...umm what’s your name again?” He embarrassedly asked as he realized that he never got a name throughout this whole interaction.

“Oh here we go,” Mac sighed as he got comfortable and plucked up a Ravenna grass and began to chew on it. He grimaced as he realized that he had plucked up a weed again.

“Eh, you can call me Kappa if you want, don’t care for the whole naming thing,” he shrugged as he got back in the lake and laid there.

“Why not?” He curiously followed him.

“Why should I?” He shot back with a grin.

“Huh?”

“Why should I care for my name? It’s my name and I can do whatever I want with it, so I just choose not to care.”

“But don’t you like your name,” he was very confused about how this conversation came about.

“Oh I do, but truth be told, most of the time I forget others' names, so one day I just thought ‘you know what, what if I just don't use my name all the time’ and I didn't,” he finger gunned at the blank face child.

“You're kinda weird,” he bluntly told Kappa.

“I’m sorry,” Mac spoke up in disbelief, “You met a trio of lunatic demons that are a hot mess in general, an insane human who likes to add too much ghost jalapeño to her food, one of my clients who have their organs outside of their body and this is where you draw the line of weird?”

“I just wanted to know his name!” He threw his hands up.

“Just whatever is fine,” he laughed.

“Well fine! Your name is Whatever now!” He said in a fit of frustration before he realized what he said, “wait! I didn’t mean-,”

“Pfthahaha!” The spirit once more threw his head back in laughter.

“...what is even happening,” MK deadpanned.

“Welcome to my life Starchild,” Mac said as he ruffled his hair.

“That’s an interesting one, alright Whatever it is then,” he gave him a toothy grin.

“Wha-no please no,” MK almost begged him. “I didn’t-,”

“Nope too late, I won’t respond to anything else but Whatever from you. Hope to see you around short stack, you really know how to bring a laugh to a vengeful spirit face,” he let out a bark of a laugh before diving down deep into the lake.

MK blinked for a few moments before turning to Macaque, “is he really gonna-,”

“Oh yeah he is only gonna respond by that name,” he cut him off, “called him a Kappa once to his face and that slimy frog hasn’t let go since.”

“...I think I want to go back home dad,” said MK as he leaned into his fur. “I think I’m done for the day.”

Macaque’s breath hitched as he then gave him a gentle smile and scooped him up in his arms. “Yeah, I think I am as well.” And with that, the two mentally exhausted people made their way back to their warm home.

MK, who proudly turned nine as of a few months ago, was playing in an arcade as his dad was grocery shopping. He stuck out his tongue as he attempted to repeatedly punch the monster in Monkey Mech, but he keeps getting beaten right before he can land the final punch. He mused up his short ponytail out of frustration that was held by a red ribbon, “Oh man! I swear this guy cheats, alright seventeen times the charm.”

“I thought it was the third time the charm?” He turns around at the voice and sees a pigtail girl around his age looking at him.

“It is, but I lost sixteen other times, so this time I will win,” he confidently said as he put another token in, and just like before he lost. “I almost had it!”

“Move over,” the girl pushed him aside and took over the controls, “let me show you how to really play.”

MK's jaw dropped when the Winner title popped up after she managed to land the final triple axel uppercut to the enemy. “How’d you do that?!”

“Oh just a lot of practice, and searching online, to find the right moves to slain the beast,” she bragged.

He went down on his knees and bowed to her, “oh teach me your ways oh wise one.”

“You may refer to me as Master Mei,” she deepened her voice to sound elderly, “and who shall I call my young student.”

“Call me MK,” he followed along with glee, he hasn’t played with a kid his age in so long.

“Well then let me show you the ways of Monkey Mech,” and with that the two proceeded to play the game, playfully pushing each other as they double battled in a co-op mode. It wasn’t until a few hours had passed, and they had long passed Monkey Mech and went into all the different kinds of games in the arcade when MK noticed the digital clock behind the counter.

“Aww man, it’s getting late,” he pouted as he didn’t want to end, “I have to meet up with dad.”

“Awww,” Mei's shoulder slumped as they walked to the prize area, “that sucks.”

“Yeah,” he slumped his shoulder, as well as the two, looked through the prizes available, which did brighten the mood a bit as Mei left with a strange mutated stuffed dog that had three eyes, a few pieces of candy, and three bouncy balls, while MK was sucking on a swirly lollipop, pieces of chocolate in his pocket, and a sticky hand sling that he is slinging everywhere.

“So you like racing?” MK asked as they left the arcade, besides the Monkey Mech he noticed that Mei tended to go to the racing games more often.

“Yes! One day I will have my own motorcycle and I will be faster than anyone, even the Monkey King!” Mei declared.

“Even the Monkey King? Wow that is fast,” he said in awe, he read the story of the Journey to the West from the library. He was quickly enamored with the story the more he read and he soon began to idolize the great Monkey King. To think that such a being could ever exist in the first place was amazing! He did find it funny that the great Monkey King rival was named Macaque, it was hilarious to think that his dad could ever have powers to fight on equal standing with a god-like immortal. Grumpy? Sure! Easy annoyed? Oh yeah definitely, but scary? Ha! The scariest thing Dad has ever done was glare at his patients when they were being too noisy, but for some reason it always works as they shrink back in fear. He mentioned it to Yanyu and the demon gang one time and well-

“HAHAHAH/PFFTTTTT/SQUAK SQUAWK SQUAAAKK/SHEHEHEH,” Yanyu was rolling all over the floor as Minsheng was banging his feet, Daiyu was slamming the table with her wings, and Bohai was using all his tentacles to wrap himself.

-they burst out laughing when he mentioned this to them. He still hasn’t gotten a full answer for that one, all they told him was to wait.

“I wonder how far that can go?” Mei curiously asked as she watched the green sling attach itself on the top of the door that they were exiting.

“Not far, how high can your bouncy ball bounce?” He asked as he then watched her bounce the ball and saw it soar a bit high above their heads.

“Not that high either...how about we combine them,” she gave a mischievous grin as MK followed suit as he used his sticky sling and attached it to the ball.

“One,” Mei started.

“Two,” MK raised his hand in mid-air.

“Thr-”

“Ready to go kid.”

“AH!” They screamed and watched the sling and ball slip from his hand and instead of bouncing, it was thrown in Mac's face, who easily caught it.

“Not the first time I had something thrown at me,” he didn’t even blink at the outburst, though he did take a second glance at the other child next to his son, “though your new, made a friend Stardust.”

“Her name is Mei!” MK excitedly said though it didn’t look like Mei was paying attention to him at all as her focus was all on Macaque, or more specifically, his head.

“What?” The monkey demon raised an eyebrow.

“You have the longest hair I have ever seen,” her eyes sparkled as she instantly zoomed behind him and started to pull on his fur. “Can I braid it?!”

“It’s actually fur,” he corrected her.

“Can I still put it in a braid?”

“Sure.”

“Then I don’t care!” She happily proclaimed and pointed to one of the benches. “Sit.”

“...” he looked towards his kid who just shrugged his shoulders, “well I guess this is happening,” he sighed as he got a clone to take the rest of their groceries back home.

Needless to say that Mei very much enjoyed putting the demon fur in a messy, but still manageable, braid.

“You know if I had some Morning glories, they would look amazing in your hair,” she mused.

“You know their weeds right?” He pointed out.

“So? They look awesome.”

“You got me there.”

“There!” She proudly finished her creation with her green ribbon tied up at the end, “you have very fluffy hair.”

“Fur,” he once more corrected her.

“Eh fur, hair there the same thing,” she turned back from the monkey and to MK with a nervous smile, “you will definitely come back right? I haven’t finished playing all the arcade games with you.”

MK looks towards his dad with puppy dog eyes and Mei easily follows suit.

“You know those don’t work on me right,” he deadpanned and smirked at their hanging heads, “but yeah, I’ll drop him off from time to time.”

“Yes!” They both jump up in cheer, only for some of their candy to fall out and onto the floor.

“My babies!” MK rushed to pick up his pieces of semi-melted chocolate.

“Noooo!” Mei quickly began to grab as many of her jawbreakers as it rolled away.

Macaque watched them in amusement at their mad scramble to save their sugar fix.

[chunhua-s]

Tendou in an enemies to lovers situation 🥺

wew chile, eye— this was longer than i originally planned and that’s due in part to me switching from writing on mobile and my bad word vomit tendencies said ✨start the cameras✨ i originally had a bit of trouble coming up with the solid plot itself while i was losing myself on concepts (nothing new :D just my regular clown shit y’know?) and my sweet goddess @bootylikepeachy was there to tickle my braincells with this “got paired together with your enemy for a class assignment” idea!! bb thank you for brainrotting with me on this, honestly 🥺💖 i dunno if i could have made a final decision if it weren’t for you and your sexy ass brain. i decided leave the ending a bit open?? one to prevent myself from going over 5k words (cause wow, i really hit the slow burn on this one) and two because i kinda like the ambiguity of their relationship after the reader comes to her turning point. since it’s an enemies to lovers type of scenario, i figured it would be better to let things kind of trickle off instead of having it all happen on the same day?? or so it doesn’t feel too rushed or force and i really hope i was successful in doing it justice. i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it!! let me know your thoughts, okay? and as always, thank you for reading!!

SUNSET AND MIDNIGNT ➽ SATORI TENDOU x READER

genre: fluff, slowburn

au: enemies to lovers

warnings: uhhh slowburn? word vomit, ramblings..... that’s about it

tendou is the fall from an ocean cliff. he’s the feeling of the wind sweeping past your body, of your breath disappearing from your lungs and vanishing on the whisps of a blue sky. he’s the dread that wraps around your heart like a vine, the heavy rock that drags you closer and closer to a dive you can’t remember taking. and you, with your heart racing against your ribs so hard that it scars itself with blue and purple bruises, you’re terrified. you’re terrified of heights, of blue waters that run to the deepest parts of the earth and what they don’t show to you. you’re afraid of the heat that comes from a blazing fire and the embers that fly from it on red hazes. it’s the fear of that unpredictability that keeps you away, the fear of being burned and left for dead that leaves you feeling as if you’re walking on egg shells around him.

to you, he’s a variable that you can’t ever be prepared for. a step added to a dance you’d already learned by heart, he messes up your rhythm and throws off your tempo until the melody becomes something you can’t recognize anymore. he leaves you guessing about what comes next — it’s like a game of roulette that he’d dragged you into by a thin chord, wrapped so tightly around your throat that it makes it hard for you to breathe. you hate the feeling of it, hate the way he so easily turned your world on its head and cast the familiarity of monochrome into a scenery of blinding colour. 

you’re pouting, a frown etched across your lips as you methodically stir over your pot, head cocked to the side and one hand resting akimbo on your hip. it’d been well over 30 minutes since you’d started boiling the ingredients over a low flame, and you were beginning to tire from stirring constantly; your arm ached and your shoulders were beginning to feel stiff as you tried rolling them to relieve some of the tension. frustration makes a loud groan slip from your lips as you throw your head back. normally, you’d consider yourself a patient person, yet that very same patience was beginning to run as thin as the liquid that should have been thickening by now. you couldn’t understand why it was taking so long, however. you’d done everything by the book! mixed each ingredient in the order that it’d said to, set the flame on the right level, measured everything correctly, so what was wrong?

you hear a snort come from somewhere behind you, but you don’t turn yourself to look at the red-headed male who sits comfortably atop the other side of your counter, well intent to ignoring him. you had neither the time nor the energy to entertain him right now, but your companion didn’t seem to understand that from the cold shoulder you’d been giving him ever since you two began working on your project together.

“you know you don’t have to keep stirring it, right?” tendou hums between bites of chocolate that slightly muffle his words. you don’t see the way his eyes close and his smile widens on delight for the sweet flavour that melts on his tongue. “you can leave it for about a minute before you have to check up on it again.”

you stubbornly roll your eyes, a huff coming from under your breath that disturbs the strand of hair dangling in front of your face. “that’s not what the book says.” your voice comes out evenly, though there’s nothing you do to cut the edge from your tone as you sigh immediately after. the frown on your lips only deepens with the next few seconds that pass you by.

“and that book was released in 2015.”

it’s invasive in its arrival, the question of why that spits on bitterness and undiluted anger. why were you so unlucky to have been paired up with the one person you couldn’t bear to be around? he was everything that dug under your skin, the symbol of chaos in a place where you’d rather solace and routine. he stands on the opposite end of the colour spectrum; where your life molds with deep purples and blues of a dark midnight, he’s the flaming oranges and reds of a burning sunset. your worlds meet on a collision, a burst of light that would consume entire dimensions and leave nothing but bones and ashes in its wake. 

there’s a pettiness in your hatred for him, a one-sided scorn that bears its fangs on dark poisons that trip like ink. it tells its tale of irrationality in your law of reason, and, you consider, perhaps that was why you hated tendou. perhaps it was the way his voice could so easily insight the burning taste of anger and annoyance on the back of your tongue, where it forms on a large ball that stops inside your throat and makes it hard to breathe without feeling as if you would implode. it’s something you can’t understand, but you despise the feeling it leaves you with when your eyes meet his.

hot, as if you’d been cast into the open arms of hell. 

“well,” you force behind gritted teeth, hearing the noise of them grinding in the back of your head. “i’m gonna stick to what the book says until it gets revised.” 

there’s absolutely no reason for you to be so insistent on something that’s clearly not working, you know that. you’re sure tendou is thinking the same, if the long, drawn out sigh he lets out is anything to go by. it isn’t difficult to imagine his expression, lips pursed together, brows furrowed as his narrowed eyes burn holes into your skin. you’re not sure what exactly is pushing you to be so stubborn, but you blindly let it control your thoughts; you run on impulse and immature decisions that have no place in your life. 

a silence blends with the sounds of your bubbling pot when he doesn’t respond, insighting an urge to glance around and see why he’d suddenly stopped talking that you force away from your mind. the quiet would give you some semblance of peace, you consider decisively: if he’s decided he would no longer disturb you with pointless musings, then what reason would you have to complain?

there’s a touch on your shoulder that causes your heart to latch inside your throat and rushes on uneven beats of a two-second fright that has you freezing on yourself. on instinct, your body turns to meet red eyes and a bemused grin as tendou’s fingers wrap around your wrist, catching the hand that held the mixing spatula you’d been using in your pot. “relax, will you?” he murmurs, a chuckle on his breath — the taste of his mint breath clouds your mind like a ghostly fragrance — as he pries the instrument from between your clenched fist. with narrowed eyes and your guard put up on a weak barrier, you watch closely as he gently sets the spatula against the counter before he finally releases your arm; it falls lifelessly to your side while the feeling of being burned slowly spreads across your skin. “just trust me on this.” 

there’s a hidden promise on his voice, a teasing grin that pulls at his lips and leaves your curiosity ignited on hesitance and uncertainty. you glance at your still bubbling pot, though your gaze isn’t allowed to linger for long as tendou shoves his face into your line of sight with a light chime of “ah-ah-ah.” it was as if he was scolding a child, the thought quickly comes and goes before you can dwell on it — there’s not much chance for you to think about it when tendou’s steering you to your island counter by your shoulders. “sit down for a sec, alright?”

a scowl forms on your lips as he shoves you down into a seat, and you open your mouth to protest when you’re suddenly pacified by the sweet taste on your tongue. slowly, you begin chewing, letting the confusion you feel be washed away by the quickly melting chocolate that fills you with a sense of appreciation. 

“better?”

it’s reluctant, but you give the red haired boy a nod and a small smile, all which he returns with his familiar grin. “i set a timer for one minute,” he informs you, lifting his phone screen to show the seconds counting down from 50. his actions are carefree and relaxed, with his arm resting on the edge of the chair and one of his legs folded beneath him, red hair tousled and flopping over his forehead just like he wears it on campus. he’s attractive, you won’t deny, though you wouldn’t let yourself ever say it out loud. helplessly, you sigh, your shoulders dropping to release the tension from standing for so long and you lift a hand to sheepishly run over your neck as you avoid his gaze.

“fine…”

tendou’s smile widens as soon as you relent, a pleased hum leaves him as he further leans back into the chair. “so,” he begins on a cheerful tone, and your eyes curiously watch him as he opens conversation. “what’re your plans after you finish the course?”

a short moment passes you by where you glance away from him, eyes drifting to the pot on your worry. was it really okay to leave it alone? “uh,” you mutter out on your distracted tone before you center yourself. you take a deep breath and let it out on a soft puff that has your cheeks pushing out slightly before you give your answer. “i wanna open up a coffeeshop.” 

“oh?” when you meet tendou’s gaze, there’s a spark of interest in them, a sheen of gold that lights vermillion red on the afternoon sun. it causes you to become self-conscious suddenly, your hands tangle together in your lap as you avert your eyes almost as quickly as they’d met his. 

“yeah,” you affirm softly. “i’ve always thought that it’d be nice, you know? and i’d be able to relax in a place like that.” 

another hum comes from the man next to you, a low sound that dwells on pondering as he takes in your response. “you do seem like the kind of person who would work in a coffeeshop.” he muses, and his word leaves your mind on pause as the alarm goes off, the soft ringing of a song you don’t know disrupting your thoughts and prompting you to stand up. however, there’s a hand on your shoulder that hurriedly pushes you down before you’re at your full height. “no,no—” tendou urges you, “i’ll do it, you just sit there and rest.” 

you’re not given the chance to argue as he breezily saunters over to your stove, reaching for the spatula while humming that same song from his alarm. it’s not one you’ve heard before, and it’s another thing that leaves you curious as you watch him stir over the bubbling liquid. you notice the way he holds his hand at a weird angle that leaves his elbow jutting out, the way his tall frame has to hunch as if to see the contents better. doesn’t he wear glasses? you’re lost on the thought as you try and recall whether or not you’d seen him wear a pair before. when he turns back to you, his smile is wide and triumphant, a show of all teeth as he moves himself to the side and just barely tilts the pot with his free hand. “would’ja look at that?” he sings, a telling smugness to his tone as he looks at you. you have to lean over the island counter to see the white liquid has thickened considerably more than when you’d been stirring it. “told you to just let it sit for a while and it’d do it’s own thing!”

unable to help the smile that spreads across your lips, you huff and wave a hand across your face in dismissal, harmlessly rolling your eyes at him. “alright, no need to rub it in now,” you chide as he replaces the pot and skips over to your side, large steps that have him swinging his arms back and forth like an excited child. there’s no hiding the glee in his expression when he sits down again and immediately turns to face you, as if he was waiting for you to admit something. and maybe that’s what he was waiting for, but you’re still stubborn when it comes to him, so you only turn your eyes away from him and cross your arms with a false pout. “just set the timer again, will you?” you grumble, and you’re rewarded with laughter that rang as pure and innocent as the sound of trickling water. it leaves you stunned for a moment, echoes in your mind and finds a home inside your chest so that it plays back for you to hear. it’s a beautiful sound, you think; there’s a part of you that wants to hear more. it horrifies you. 

“what about you?” you shake your head as you lean your elbows on top of the counter top, eyes focused on your fingers wrapping around one another rather than to meet vermillion red. the cool feeling of the marble does very little to ease the warmth coursing beneath your skin. “what’re your plans after finishing the course?”

tendou’s laughter dies down like the wind comes to a pause, where the leaves stop rustling on an easy rest as he sighs long and full, his chest rising with the action as he leans backward ever so slightly. “i was thinking of making chocolate,” he tells, tilting his head and lending his gaze to the scenery outside your window. it gives you the courage to look back at him, at the sight of his figure bathed in sunlight where the gold bounces off his skin like a gem. with his expression set on pensive and his eyes bearing a wandering glint, he looks nearly ethereal inside your kitchen, a picture of immortality that you’ve never bothered to look at before now. he glows under a melting light, the picture of him robs you of air and leaves you gasping, desperate for your blood to start flowing the way it had before. 

it’s when his eyes find yours that you relearn how to breathe.

his gaze is half-lidded, touched by a visual of content that makes him look at peace, nearly drowsy as his hand supports the weight of his head. the smile on his lips is slight, the kind that quirks the corners of your lips and tells you a story of effortless charm. 

“is there any particular reason?” you hate that your voice comes out weak, that it breaks on it’s departure and tumbles out of your lips like white feathers flutter from the sky. the onslaught of emotion leaves you reeling, your center of gravity cast from your body and you struggle to find your footing over uneven ground, all while he watches you, red eyes picking you apart and leaving bear to him the parts of yourself you’ve never seen. a boyish smile settles over his lips as he turns his head to fully face you, leaning forward ever so slightly, but it’s enough so that you’re once again able to taste peppermint on his breath. it washes over your skin like an autumn wind, leaves a chill that reminds you of the first signs of snow on the throws of a mid-summer’s heat.

“not really,” he confesses with a shrug, carefree and unbothered while he leaves you as the perfect image of flustered. his voice is low, like a whisper. it’s hushed, and you’re able to hear something of a sigh on his words that leaves you to wonder about the way the sunlight reflects off of pools of red, how the golden hue makes them appear like the butterscotch candies you’d snack on between classes. “i just… like sweet things.”

“oh.” 

you’re reminded of the taste of caramel when you think of tendou. it comes as a surprise when you take the first bite into a chocolate bar, an unexpected drop of golden sweetness that makes you pause for, if only, just a second to properly let its flavour spread across your tongue. he’s the warmth of sunset that embraces your body, the feeling of the waves that brush against your toes, the sand that fills with water and wraps around your feet. you’re left on the shoreline to watch in awe as flames of orange and red dance on the ocean’s surface, where the blazes and embers of a passion unimaginable to your midnight moon leave traces of ethereal gold in its wake. 

there’s a sudden thought that invades your mind, slow like molasses and just as bittersweet; you want to sink beneath those burning waters, to let them cover you from head to toe and consume all that you are. until your heart learns his melody and your body falls to his tune.

there’s a part of you that yearns after satori tendou, and the realization if it scares you. 

you’re the first to look away when the timer sounds once more, your face burns and you purse your lips together while your hands tangle together on your lap. beside you, tendou arises wordlessly to saunter over to the pot, humming once more to the tune that continues to play from his phone. it doesn’t sound like a typical alarm, and it leaves you intrigued by it’s upbeat melody.  “what song is that?” you curse the way your voice breaks, clearing your throat and hoping that he didn’t pick up on it. why were you suddenly becoming such a mess? 

tendou answers you a bit distractedly while he tilts the pot from side to side, his head cocked in contemplation and his expression pensive. “it’s called circus,” he glances at you from over his shoulder and uses his free hand to gesture you forward before reaching for the pair of yellow, sunflower-themed muffins you left to sit close-by. “bring the chocolate for me, would’ja?” you meet him just as he’s moving your pot to sit on your counter, the plate of chopped up chocolate bits in your hand while he moves to the side to let you dump them into the mixture. “i found it on this playlist from youtube and i kinda got obsessed with it.” 

you take in his words over the light-hearted melody that plays from his phone, enjoying the sound of it before it cuts off and sets to snooze since tendou hadn’t turned it off. it leaves you wanting to hear more, and you wish it would have played on for a little bit longer as you set the plate to the side. “can i look it up?” you ask; the thought that it was silly to ask for his permission rings in your head before you can stop it, and you feel your face heating up when he looks up from mixing the chocolate to you, his eyes alight with amusement and his smile teasing. 

“go ahead,” he chuckles, giving his attention back to the pot after casually waving a hand in the air. “mind bringing me the setting tray?”

it doesn’t take you too long to open up the youtube app, your fingers typing in the name of the song before you pause and glance over to your partner. “is it the one by showmore?”

“yup!”

soon, the familiar intro bleeds into your kitchen space, filling up the absence of conversation between you and tendou as he bobs his head along to its sound. you’re left to lean against the counter, your hands folded beneath you while he pours out your chocolate mixture into the little cube shapes in the tray. what you feel is a comfort, a type of quiet happiness that calms your breath on the sound of drums and the piano that blends with the singer’s voice. “it sounds nice,” you mutter quietly, unable to help the way your head nods in time to the melody. 

tendou shoots you an excited smile. “it does, right?? i’ve been listening to it nonstop ever since i found it.” his enthusiasm draws a laugh from you, a grin stretches across your face as you watch him sway side to side. it’s an adorable picture of him dancing and smiling so brightly, and when he looks up at you with excitement in his eyes, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“wanna dance?”

“huh?”

the question catches you off guard, leaves you to stare wide-eyed at his back as he pops the tray into the freezer before turning back to face you. his grin widens and becomes almost teasing when he sees your stunned expression. “c’mere!” he urges you with an eagerness, his hand waving you over.

“tendou, i—” you avert your gaze, feeling your skin warm up once more as you murmur your answer. “i can’t dance…” 

he makes his way over to you in a sequence of movements you can’t hope to describe — it’s almost like a prance, where his steps are exaggerated and his shoulders lift up in a kind of rocking motion while he’s snapping his fingers to the beat. “that’s fine!” he grins at you just as he reaches out for your hand, pulls you to your feet and coaxes you from behind your island counter. “i can’t either!” 

for a moment, you’re caught between amused and hopelessly confused while the man before you lifts your arms like wet spaghetti, letting him swing them between your bodies as if you were a puppet, and he the puppeteer. he’s beaming at you so widely that it’s almost ridiculous, but he seems so vivid and joyous while he maneuvers your limbs, and it causes broad laughter to bubble up from your chest as your body doubles over. it’s a pure, weightless type of laughter that leaves you, like the chiming of bells on the summer wind. it echoes over the music, and when tendou joins in with you, there arises between you both a new kind of song, whose story is found at the evening time when the world holds her breath. it’s a harmony that’s carefree, like the fall from an ocean cliff, like the breath that vanishes from your lungs and cries on laughter beneath the blue sky. it’s the feeling of your fears melting, and when your body finally plunges between those fireset waves, you’re wondering why you were scared in the first place. 

“that’s it!!” the excitement in tendou’s voice is infectious, his smile as bright as the sun itself when your fingers intertwine with his and your body finally moves on its own. here begins a dance between you two where he pulls you in closer, and when you pull away, your hands remain intertwined. an irresistible force that you can’t help being drawn to, that spins you around his fingers and wraps you in his arms, all while eyes of the sweetest sunset promise you gold on your midnight sky. the feeling inside your chest is warm, sets through your body like a quiet buzz and it leaves you wanting more, so that the yearning you feel would only ever be satisfied by him.

your hand in his feels like a slow burning flame, and as the both of you are laughing with a song you create with each other, you realize that you’re no longer afraid of its heat.

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn

send an ask to be added or removed!! (also pls lemme know if i’m forgetting anyone? i think i got you all but just in case)

[turquoise-skyyyy]

The Solution To Everything(Is Hair Dye)

Note: Human AU! First time posting writing on tumblr lmao, and I wanted to try a bit of a different writing style... so there’s that.

Just a little writing practice paired with Marellinh fluff n kinda angst ig :)

Word count: uhhh i went overboard

Blurb: Linh is lonely, with no one in the world left by her side, hurt, by all that she’s lost, and possibly has an ever-so-slight crush on her elusive blonde neighbor. Marella needs someone to dye her hair within the day, and Linh happens to have exactly what she needs, in more ways than one.

When Linh wakes late in the night, startled from her dozing state on the couch in her dimly lit living room to the sound of persistent knocking, she certainly doesn’t expect to find the blonde neighbor she’s been inconspicuously watching— she’s still trying to convince herself that casually watching the girl enter her house anytime she got the chance wasn’t stalking— for the past three weeks since she moved in next door to be on the other side. And when the panting girl in front of her sucks in a breath, Linh definitely doesn’t expect the words that spill from her lips—

“Can you dye my hair?”

Linh blinks with bewilderment, still trying to process that the girl is here, on her doorstep. Not to mention really, really pretty. Annoyingly so, to the point where Linh’s tired brain has to avert her eyes to focus on forcing her mouth to form words.

“What?”

The girl smiles apologetically, and suddenly Linh’s throat feels dry. The girl’s beauty is much more manageable from a distance, through subtle glances out of the corner of her eye across the hall.

“My roomates— screw them— dared me to dye my hair bright green by tomorrow. I lost a bet.” She looks away. “And you have green hair dye, so...”

Linh stares dumbly, trying to puzzle out how to respond to such a random, odd request. Though she moved into the apartment complex almost a month ago and her maybe sort of possible little crush lives just next door, her mind is still trying to register the fact that they have finally crossed paths. And the girl has come to her, no less.

“How do you know I have hair dye?” The hair dye is something she’s gotten to send to Tam. The silver in his hair is something he kept in long after she cut it off and cut off their parents. He still hangs on, and Linh wants to change that, even if they haven’t spoken in a year. She isn’t going to send it though, she knows. She always chickens out. Her brother’s silence for the past year isn’t easy to face. Still, she buys brightly-colored dyes frequently on the off chance that a lightning strike of confidence will hit her. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s a comforting routine anyway.

The girl blushes, scratching the back of her neck bashfully and shifting from foot to foot. The movement draws Linh’s eyes to her shoes. They’re ratty sneakers, and upon closer inspection, it looks like there are messy, multi-colored words scribbled all over the sides. The weird shoes match the long, tacky rainbow socks that go up to her knees and the bright, tie-dye, too big sweater draped over her surprisingly small frame, with black leggings to top off the outfit underneath.

“Well, I saw you coming back in from the supermarket yesterday and there was a box of green hair dye poking out of the bags...” she trails off. “Oh my god. I sound like a stalker, don’t I? I swear I’m not.”

Linh can’t help the delirious, sleep-deprived giggle that escapes at the words. It’s ridiculous to her, that the girl she’s been following and observing as subtly as humanly possible because she’s just so pretty and Linh wants to know everything is the one worrying about being a creep.

The girl grins at her laughter, the question still burning in her eyes, which are an even brighter shade of blue than Linh realized up close.

She clicks her phone on, checking the time discreetly. It’s late, nearly midnight. The hair dye takes at least an hour, most likely more, to finish. She has an exam at nine the next day that she still hasn’t studied for and she hasn’t yet messaged Tam for her daily one-sided check-in that he never responds to, or even reads.

She looks back up at the girl with thin braids threaded through thick, golden locks, framing beautiful ice blue eyes set in a still blushing face, waiting for her at her doorstep with an open gaze and just maybe, an open mind.

Her stupid, fluttering heart makes a decision before her rational mind can catch up.

“Come on in.”

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

The girl, who introduces herself as Marella, asks her if she’s always so quiet.

Linh snorts, resisting the urge to point out that Marella is the one invading the house of a relative stranger in the middle of the night. Of course, there’s also the fact that she let her, and that isn’t even considering how flustered the blonde makes her. Especially in such close proximity, where she can smell the faint lavender wafting off her hair. Linh never would have pegged her for a lavender girl.

And when she leans closer to touch up the roots again, she realizes that Marella smells of something spicy. It’s good, comforting, like the home-cooked meals made with love that Linh only ever got to experience in other people’s houses because hers never truly felt like home, or the smell of wood when it was burned in a desperate attempt to keep the warmth in the winter because woolen hats and group hugs were never quite enough to warm everyone’s toes.

Linh has to remind herself to keep working her fingers through the hair.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh is thankful when the summer sun finally leaks away and is replaced by autumn wind. There’s something calming about the crisp air blowing through the hair that escapes from tightly-zipped thin hoodies and the leaves bleeding red and gold. She much prefers it to the heat of the summer, or the harshness of winter, the temperatures of which she can never quite escape from completely.

When she pulls open the doors to a nearby cafe and lets the smell of warmth and caffeine wash over her face, and falls into line to order, she isn’t expecting to be behind a girl with a mane of blonde hair that’s streaked through with bright green that hurt the eyes and small braids that sway when she shifts. And Linh’s weeks of watching from a distance pay off— and the hard-to-ignore green certainly helps— because she recognizes the girl immediately.

It’s Marella, sporting the new, significantly greener look that she gained by Linh’s own hands. Linh blushes at the reminder of the night weeks ago. She’s surprised to find that it was the first time she’s seen the girl since their unintentional night together. She’s been so occupied with settling in, getting organized, figuring out independence, and attempting to reach out to her absentee brother, that she hasn’t even noticed the girl’s absence. It seems her creeper skills have gotten rusty, which should make her happy but instead causes the barest amounts of disappointment to creep up. Even from afar, Marella is lively and brightens, or at least eases, the monotonous days that all seem to bleed into each other in one eternal, never-ending passage of pain.

“Hey!” Marella’s voice jolts Linh from her thoughts. “Nice to see you here!”

“H-Hi!” Linh stutters. She thinks the girl’s impossibly blue, intent gaze will always catch her off guard.

Her gaze shifts to the green in Marella’s hair, the harsh coloring softened by the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the cafe and bouncing off the bright strands.

“Your hair looks nice.”

Marella touches a hand to her neon green-streaked look and smirks. “All thanks to you.”

Linh’s cheeks warm at the praise. By the time they reach the orders taken down, Marella has somehow convinced Linh to sit and drink with her. She takes Linh’s wrist lightly and guides her to a table, an action that makes Linh’s face heat again. She looks down at the thin fingers encircling her arm to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and is elated to find that she isn’t.

And sitting in that booth, sipping their warm coffees and exchanging even warmer smiles, Linh’s romantic fantasies from afar suddenly seem a lot closer than she ever thought possible.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh isn’t sure exactly how she’s gone from watching her neighbor from a(very far) distance to being dragged into her unfamiliar apartment to be introduced to her roommates, but she can’t say she’s complaining.

As nerve-wracking as it is to be inside Marella’s house, she has to admit that the chance of pace from routine is something she would have been too scared to do herself. Had Marella not knocked on her door and practically shoved her out of her own with an evil grin on her face and into the girl’s shared one just minutes before, she might have stayed holed up in her own apartment forever, seldom leaving and only ever for basic necessities.

Patterns are nice, reliable, and most of all, consistent, something that Linh has never had before, and up until a year ago, had given up on attaining, but there’s something undeniably exciting about throwing caution to the wind and launching herself into a new situation.

However, there is the slight problem of said new situation happening to be making a good impression on her crush’s roommates, who are all staring down at her stoically in a solid line of four with their arms crossed and their gazes narrowed. It reminds Linh of the stereotypical movie tropes in which the overprotective dad interrogates the unnecessarily perfect Mary Sue’s new boyfriend when she brings him home for the first time, and she has to force herself not to laugh in the faces of the people glaring down at her. They’re all at least half a head taller than her, excluding the brunette girl, who has the most terrifying expression of them all on her face.

Three hours later, Linh is laughing tears of joy and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon with the scary roommates in their warmly lit, cozy living room, who’s first impression couldn’t have been more wrong.

The scary-looking brunette girl isn’t actually one of Marella’s roommates, instead living with the other brunette, her brother, at home with their parents. Her name is Biana, she has an attachment to the color purple that everyone else seems to make fun of her for, and an affinity for randomly throwing out the others’ clothes and replacing them with ones she deems good enough to be seen out with.

Her brother, who’s name is Fitzroy— everyone teases him about this— is better known as Fitz. He is smart, put-together, and as Marella refers to him, their group’s resident “tired dad”. He’s dating Dex, the nerdy but sarcastic actual roommate of Marella.

Then there is Sophie, who was in the kitchen when Linh first came in, and Keefe, the former being Dex’s cousin and Marella’s second roommate who is constantly done with everyone’s shenanigans; Marella claims that Fitz, the actually responsible one, can never be bothered to do anything about their spontaneous endeavors most of the time. The latter, on the other hand, is the most mischievous of the bunch who Linh also knows the least about. His smiles and grins are the most abundant, but also the most weighted. Linh suspects there is a lot more to him than she’ll ever be able to fully grasp.

Linh’s surprised with how well she fits in with these people. They seem so much lighter and freer than her, a girl still tainted and chained down by the past and the experiences that came with it. They welcome her with open arms, and hours later, when dusk falls and it’s time for her to leave, the wrap her up in a hug and make her swear she’ll come back .She sinks into the hug, thinking that after knowing their light, she can’t possibly stay away.

Linh will forever owe all this new warmth in her life to Marella, who is perhaps the warmest of them all.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Fluffy blankets are good. Warm, cozy, comfortable, the kind of little thing in life that makes most people feel fuzzy feelings of nostalgia as they think back to the times they wrapped themselves up in warm blankets on the days they were feeling overwhelmed by the world, when they sat in messily-built blanket forts with their best friends and told scary stories during the devil’s hour with only a flashlight illuminating their evil grins, or the fights with their siblings to get the bigger portion of the blanket when they were forced to share a bed.

Unless that person is Linh, in which case all chances of that were stripped away by a pressured childhood where no room felt safe when her parents were near, friends were disapproved of, and anything that could knock the Song family from the top was discarded before either of the children could protest.

But whether it’s a childhood like Linh’s, or one where everything went perfectly, the fact can generally be agreed on: fluffy blankets are a good, good thing.

But Linh doesn’t think she was ever aware just how perfect fluffy blankets can be until they came piled in the arms of a blonde girl with tiny braids and green threaded through her waves at the door.

“Movie night?” Marella asks, wiggling a laptop in her other hand. “I noticed that you don’t have a TV yet.”

Linh lets her in, eager to spend more time with just her and especially eager to share another night with just the two of them. The idea of being in a dimly lit room wrapped in blankets with their bodies pressed together and only the light of a screen illuminating their faces doesn’t hurt either.

They curl up together on the couch without a second thought, as if they’ve been doing so all their lives. Linh adores the way Marella’s head fits in the crook of her neck like the last missing piece of a puzzle, and holds her breath as the blonde reaches across her and presses play on Netflix once they’ve settled.

When the girl falls asleep on Linh’s shoulder an hour later, she cuddles closer to the warmth of the fluffy blanket and her— crush, or love, maybe, she doesn’t know— pressing to her side.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

As nice of a distraction as Marella and her strange roommates can be in the months that pass, Linh has to come crashing back down to reality at some point. And crash she does, when the banging on her door at nine o’clock at night opens to the face she knows as well as her own.

Her brother, approaching her for the first time in years, bringing nothing but news of their father’s death.

Linh knows she should be feeling something. That she should be falling to her knees and sobbing dramatically, like a protagonist in a drama novel, or maybe grabbing his hands and begging him to tell her that it isn’t true. Instead, when Tam bears the news, all she can do is match his emotionless expression. After all, what is there to feel?

And why is she in such desperate need of comfort when, truth be told, she feels no suffering?

She can’t explain her mind’s twisted way of thinking, but she does know that it’s what leads her next door, and what pushes her to throw her arms around Marella’s neck when she comes to the door decked in pajamas and those long, irritating rainbow-striped socks that she loves so much.

Linh likes to believe that it’s her petty grudge against the annoying socks that makes her cry on Marella’s shoulder that night, but hiding from the truth isn’t as easy as she likes to believe.

And when Marella wraps her in a fuzzy blanket that rains tufts of fine fluff on their heads and pulls her in close, Linh has a hard time believing fluffy blankets aren’t the answer to all the world’s problems.

Confidence has finally come to her, and she’s able to give Tam a box of hair dye before he leaves. She doesn’t know if he’ll use it, or when she’ll see him again, but the smallest spark of light in his eyes when he takes the dye and turns it over in his hand is enough hope for her.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- 

When Marella appears at her door in the middle of the night this time, weeks since Linh’s father died and they last saw each other, Linh is surprised that she isn’t surprised. After all, surely there’s something seriously wrong if the only thing she says when someone comes knocking at her door at exactly three minutes past midnight is, “Did you bring the hair dye?”

She pulls the blonde inside softly, takes the fuzzy blanket still draped on her couch from their movie night, and wraps it around the girl’s shivering frame. Marella starts to sob on her shoulder. Her fingers wrap around Linh’s neck and latch onto her, bringing them both down to the carpet when her knees give. Linh immediately wraps an arm around her and holds her close.

Linh doesn’t know what’s wrong, but she does know that Marella is leaning on her for support, and she does know that she will always be here, for as long as the blonde might need.

When she finally stops crying and lets Linh reach gentle fingers to wipe her cheeks, and pulls out electric blue hair dye that brings a smile to both of their faces, Linh has a hard time believing that hair dye isn’t the cure for everyone’s sorrows.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh finds it funny that one can promise themselves one thing-- that they are going to try as hard as they can not to connect with others as a means of protecting themselves, for example-- but still end up breaking the promise if the right temptation crosses their path.

And her temptation? A certain blue-eyed blonde with now bright blue highlights who’s devious smirks and snarky words can snap Linh’s resolve in a second. She knows she should hate her for it, but surrounded by mischievous roommates with twinkling eyes and light smiles filled to the brim with warmth, she can’t help but snuggle closer to her weakness.

Her weakness, who is currently failing to dominate the board in a (not-so)friendly game of Christmas Monopoly. Marella informed her that it’s a holiday classic when she dragged her inside the house just an hour before, but judging by the rabid way the players are screaming at each other, Linh can’t say she agrees.

“What do you mean, the empire kind is the wrong kind?” Keefe screeches. “Duh, it’s easier!”

“For you, maybe! But it’s not the original!” Dex retorts.

Keefe jabs a finger at the board. “Then why are you still playing and why are you in second place?” He throws his hands up. “If you’re so mad about it, then stop playing and let the rest of us noncomplainers win.”

“Noncomplainers isn’t a word, Keefe,” Fitz says, idly shuffling the assortment of multi-colored money laid out in front of him. As banker, he’s the calmest and least angry of the bunch, though there’s something oddly menacing about the way he rearranges his money with careful, poised fingers.

Keefe, Dex, and Fitz are circled around the board, all nursing mugs of hot cocoa(which Linh has realized is a sort of trademark for them) in between bouts of shrieking, while Sophie left a little while ago to buy original Monopoly just in case Keefe and Dex destroy the board. Linh laughed when the exasperated blonde said it, but now she can see why it’s a legitimate concern.

Linh curls her cold feet in from her position on the long couch, and Marella automatically shifts the fluffy blanket they’re sharing to fully cover her toes again. Linh smiles up at her gratefully, and Marella offers a small smirk back. Then she goes right back to screaming. Linh debates calling Sophie and asking her to bring back ear plugs too.

“Whatever,” Biana scoffs. “You’re all sore losers.”

She is currently winning, as she has been for the entire game, and she glares down at the boys huddling around the game board from her perch in one of the armchairs.

And on it goes. At the end of the night, when Monopoly money is scattered on the floor and a smoking dinner that’s just a bit too salty is shared and hastily wrapped presents tied with glittery bows are exchanged(Marella is too impatient to wait for Christmas morning), Linh finds herself full of more love and joy than she thinks she ever has been in her entire life. There’s something oddly comforting about being with people who care for and accept her, even if it’s by default or association. Having someone who cares is a rare light in her life that most people take for granted.

Especially when there’s the smallest chance that the person who truly holds her heart returns her feelings.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- 

It’s the night before Christmas and Linh can’t sleep.

It’s the tossing and turning type of ‘can’t sleep’, the kind where Linh lies awake long after dark waiting for her mind and conscience to stop running around in circles around her head, the kind where her insecurities grow claws and fangs and sink them in skin-deep, where there is no light slipping through the cracks to keep them at bay.

And Linh hates that kind of ‘can’t sleep’.

It makes her antsy, on edge, and the urge to pace itches at her feet. The unfamiliar surface of the floor of Marella’s bedroom only makes matters worse, and as softly as she tries to twist under the thin covers, it doesn’t take long for the rustling on the floor to alert the blonde girl dozing off above her.

Marella slides to the floor sleepily before Linh can whisper a protest and lands next to her on the mattress with a grunt. Linh rolls over to face her, and is startled by how close their faces are. She can count the light freckles on Marella’s nose and cheeks when she’s this close. Moonlight is streaming into the room through the cracks in the shutters of the window, painting streaks of glowing white on the blonde’s face. She always looks beautiful, but Linh finds there’s something especially intimate about her in this moment. The air is suddenly buzzing with palpable tension, making her palms go slick with sweat and her mind hyper-aware of every movement. She can’t take her eyes off Marella.

Then, girl of Linh’s dreams breaks the stillness, leaning forward and pressing soft, sleepy lips to her own.

She’s asleep by the time she draws away, but Linh is shaking with adrenaline. It’s the moment she’s waited for so long she can hardly think of a time where she didn’t want the blonde.

And yet.

Linh’s the kind of girl with baggage, with the kind of ‘skeletons in the closet’ that people run away screaming from, not because it’s scary, but because it’s messy. Complicated. It bogs everyone who knows down, making every action in her presence laborious and painful with the knowledge of her past. Even her brother, who once promised to be by her side forever, wouldn’t stay.

She knows it’s irrational, but suddenly she can’t imagine how to face Marella.

She slips out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning so Marella’s blue gaze can’t stop her from running away. But despite her misgivings, the insecurities that still haven’t retracted their claws, and the voice in the back of her head whispering that she has to have imagined it, Linh can’t stop touching a finger to her lips, long after she’s left the buzzing moonlit atmosphere that allows slips of self control under the cover of night.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s been weeks. Three weeks and five days, to be exact, and Linh still can’t figure out how to face her.

With every day that passes, she can feel the strong bonds they formed weakening. That’s one thing about relationships. They need an equal amount of effort. If Linh doesn’t put in enough, the object of her affection slips between her fingers before she can blink. That’s how she lost her brother, her friends, and any last semblance she might have had of “family”.

That is, until Marella.

She was persistent, even in the beginning, fighting to spend more and more time with a mildly resistant Linh, until she found it impossible to stay away. Her light is unlike any Linh has ever known, wild and fluid like an eternal flame that can’t be doused. That flame kept Linh alive for all these months, and yet here she is, ignoring it. Maybe even putting it through pain.

It takes a month, but it finally comes to her.

She realizes now that love isn’t something that affects only her, and that she isn’t the only one to win or lose in it. She isn’t the only person in love.

Love is two people, three people, ten people, a hundred people. Love is everyone who forces themselves into her life with the intent of staying no matter how dark it gets. Love is the flickers of light in the night and the bold streaks of sun in the morning. Love is the twinkling stars splattered across a purple painted sky.

Love is illumination. Love is clarity.  Love is a path paved special, with different twists and turns for everyone.

Love is...

Marella.

Love is Marella.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Weeks of radio silence after months of talking nonstop is hard to bounce back from, and they both know this well.

But Linh comes back anyway.  She comes knocking on Marella’s door exactly a month after they last talked, this time she being the one to approach at random in the middle of the night. When the door opens and she smiles apologetically, pressing a butterfly kiss to Marella’s forehead and pushing a big blanket and a bright, eye-melting color of hair dye into her arms in a silent apology, all Marella does is smile and pull her back in for a real, proper kiss.

Yeah, neon green and fluffy blankets are the solution to everything.

[miraculous-ninjabird]

request!! bluewire (jay x pixal) but Prom Night 2208 au. Jay as Kyle, Pixal as Tess, Nya as Kate. (prom night 2208 is a song that george salzar sings btw) :) love ur page btw

Anon, I was thrilled to get this prompt. It was so, so good that I had to take the time to try and do it justice. I hope I succeeded.

Title: Prom Night

Words: 1693

Rating: G, no real warnings apply as far as I am aware

Bluewireshipping (Jay/Pixal)

Based on the song Prom Night 2208 by George Salazar

Alternating POV

Jay straightened his tie for probably the twentieth time. Tonight was the night. Prom. He’d passed by the leisure deck a little earlier, and things were really starting to look good. His date...wasn’t who he had been hoping it would be. Getting up the courage to ask Nya had ended up being nearly impossible, and his mom had ended up setting him up with someone else insead.

Pixal was somewhat of an oddity to him. She had transferred to the Zircon-4 just a month ago, from Echo fleet. Which was wild since Echo fleet was like, the best of the best. On top of that, she was Gamma-Class Elite. So really, he wondered what she was doing here at all. It was also a little strange to know his date was a recon droid, but one of his best friends was also a droid so maybe it wasn’t that weird. Not that any of it mattered in the end since he was only doing this because his mom had asked and it was just as friends anyways. No need to sweat the details.

Finally! Prom night was here and Pixal could not be more excited. She didn’t really know much about her date...other than his name was Jay and he was human. They had met a few times since she’d gotten here, and he was pretty funny. Pixal really liked him. However, she also had to remember that he was totally in love with Nya. But all the boys seemed to be in love with Nya, and she couldn’t really blame him. Nya was pretty cute. No matter how much she wished it could be true, she and Jay just weren't compatible. As long as she kept that in mind, the night would still be fun.

Jay is waiting for her outside the door to his apartment. Dressed in a sharp blue suit, and a tie that matched, it was hard to deny how attractive he was.

“Hey Pixal! You ready to go?” He asks cheerily. He gives her a soft smile, before averting his eyes.

“Yes. We can leave whenever you are ready.” She responds, trying really hard not to let disappointment flood her voice at the fact that he wouldn’t even look at her. That was a signal that she was more than capable of reading. That more than anything nailed home their directives for tonight really didn’t align. ‘Just get through the night Pixal,’ She thinks to herself. This was nothing more than a routine social function. Just like the hundreds of others she had attended before. Tonight was going to be fine.

In the short time Jay had known her, he had never realized just how beautiful Pixal was. It was incredibly obvious now though. She was wearing a silky purple dress that complemented the silver tone of her skin. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and fixed in place with a matching purple butterfly clip. When he looked closely, he also spotted cute little butterfly earrings. There was no doubting it. Jay was utterly and completely enchanted. He tries not to stare, and the only way he can seem to accomplish that is by not looking at her at all. Guilt flooded him. Come on Jay. Get it together. Just a friend thing, remember? You like Nya, not Pixal. Just get through the night, have fun, and everything would be fine.

Jay’s mom stops them for a quick set of photos, and then they are on their way. Dozens of other couples are heading the same way as them, congregating on the leisure deck. An usher of some sort points them to a table, and they take their seats.

“I heard that Kai was gonna try and use a cloaking ray to try and sneak in some booze.” Jay starts, an awkward attempt to make conversation. She feels him turn to look at her. “And uhhh...I like your earrings.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Pixal feels her thoughts going a little haywire at the compliment. What does she even say? “I like your shoes.” Jay lets out a nervous little laugh. ‘Okay. Wow. Of all the compliments, you decided to tell him you like his shoes? Why would you say that?’ Pixal berates herself internally.

“Oh hey! Food’s here! Wanna try some of this biopaste? I swear it’s good.” Jay grasps at the new opportunity to try and dispel a little of the awkwardness.

“Oh, sure! Let me just flip on the flavor sensor and…” Pixal takes a bite of the strange blue goo Jay was offering her. That certainly wasn't something she had ever seen back on Echo fleet. “Oh wow! That’s actually really good!”

“You can turn on your taste receptors on and off at will?” Pixal almost balks at Jay’s unexpected question.

“Yes. Did that make you uncomfortable? I apologize-” she starts, but the look Jay is giving her has her stopping short. He looks very impressed.

“Man, that’s so cool! I wish I could do that. Do you know how many terrible dinners that would have saved me from?” And just like that, the awkwardness is broken. They fall into an easy conversation, and Pixal finds they have several shared interests.

Maybe this night wasn’t going to be such a waste afterall.

By the time dinner is over, Jay finds he is becoming more and more attracted to his companion for the night. He is no longer dreading having to dance with her. She was cute and smart and in all honesty, he wanted to spend more time just talking with her. Good thing there would be plenty of time for that while they were dancing. Pushing back from the table, he moved to stand in front of her, offering a hand.

“Pixal, may I have this dance?” He asks. She smiles wildly.

“Yes. Yes you may.”

Jay leads her over to the dance floor. The music was spunky and upbeat, not great for a slow dance. That didn’t seem to bother Pixal though. She kept up with all of his movements, and had near perfect rhythm.

Several songs pass before something that really worked for slow dancing played. Taking up a dance position with her, Jay is once again struck by just how beautiful she is. He can see his own face reflected in her eyes, and god does he look love struck. Because maybe, just maybe, he is. All other outside distractions fade away until it felt like he and Pixal were the only people in the whole universe. He could stay here forever, swaying to the music out in the depths of outer space…

A soft tap on his shoulder brings Jay out of his trance. Breaking away from Pixal, he finds it’s Nya who has gotten his attention. Nya!

“Hey Jay. Mind if I steal you for just one dance?” Jay’s heart leaps into his throat. Nya wants to dance with him. Him!

“Is that okay with you Pixal? It’ll just be one dance.” He asks his date.

“Oh...Okay.” PIxal’s hesitancy goes right over his head, he’s so excited by the fact his crush actually wants to dance with him. This was his chance!

“Thanks Pix! I’ll be back, I promise!” He’s already taking Nya’s hand, and leading her away. Which means he misses the absolute devastation on Pixal’s face.

When she had been dancing with Jay, Pixal had felt like she was on top of the world. The way he had been looking at her. She had almost felt human. Almost wanted to be human, if only to be able to understand Jay just a little bit better. Then Nya had shown up and it was like Jay completely forgot about Pixal.

Watching them walk away, laughing nervously, had been a harsh snap back to reality. Right. This was only supposed to be a friend thing. Nothing else. He didn’t really want to be with her. Now that Nya was here, Jay didn’t need Pixal around. She didn’t fit with him and that was it. No point in analysing it any further.

Pixal makes sure she has her charger before turning and sprinting away. Screw being human.

Jay should have been over the moon. He and Nya swayed together, his head resting in her hair and hands settled delicately on her dress. Nya pulled him as close as she could. He should be happy. This is what he wanted. Expect apparently it wasn’t. Because the only thing he can think about is Pixal. Pixal, Pixal, Pixal.

“That was fun. Want to keep dancing?” Nya asks hopefully as the song ends, but Jay is already pulling away.

“Sorry, I can’t. I really need to go find Pixal.” He apologizes. He rushes back to where he and Pixal had been sitting, but she isn’t there. Her bright silver form isn’t visible in the crowd either. She had mentioned wanting to go down to the hanger bay before the night was over…

Suddenly he’s sprinting. Maybe she was there. He prays she is. Man, he had messed up so bad. Hopefully she would be there and he would be able to apologize, and tell her everything that had been going through his head that night.

The door hisses open, startling Pixal out of her thoughts. What startles her even more though, is who’d come through the door.

“Jay? What are you doing here?” Hope swells inside her.

“I wanted to dance with you one more time before the night is over. I hope I’m not too late?” He rubs his head sheepishly. Pixal’s heart soars.

“Ask me. I won’t hesitate,” She finds herself answering, mouth running ten steps ahead of her thoughts. Jay steps forward, taking her hand gently.

“Just one dance though. Then I’d hit the breaks if I were you. You really don’t want to fall for me. Us humans...we really tend to be pretty lousy flakes.” He twirls her around, then pulls her close. They sway gently to non-existent music. Screw human tendencies. Pixal knew what she wanted.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?” he breaths, ticking her hair.

“I am a robot. I don’t make mistakes.”

[razorblade180]

interdimensional dads 5 (Finale)

Orange, Blue, and Purple all make a drum roll on the table as they stare at Red, who is sipping coffee and trying not to laugh at the lunacy that is quite literally, himself.

Jaune: Y’all dome?

*drum roll stops*

Jaune:Yep, your turn. You have to be the buffest for a reason right?

Jaune:And look like you’ve seen shit?

Jaune:We’ve all been through shit. We’re us!

Jaune:Yeah, but you’re you.

Jaune:How- I’m not arguing with that one. Okay, my turn. Since you brought it up, we, I gained weight for a little bit and eventually got back into a workout routine. I might’ve went a little overboard but no one complains.

Jaune:Alright, now we can back this story up and start from wherever you like.

Jaune:Aight, I guess I start with my universe beating Salem. By that point, Ruby and I had been together for awhile. I think we were always together to a degree ever since RNJR formed. We obviously didn’t actually say anything but the time we spent felt different. At least for me it did. Maybe mourning Pyrrha had something to do with it but by the time Yang and Weiss showed up at Haven, Ruby and I were definitely on “friendly terms”

Jaune:Aaaaayyyyeeee!

Jaune:You two are too much. Haha, let him continue.

Jaune:We were trying to keep it lowkey but I’m sure everyone knew. Back to Salem, that was insane. If you were to tell me I’d help save the world when I was only 19 then I’d laugh.

Jaune:Wait...19? I was twenty.

Jaune:Same.

Jaune: I was 21! Are you saying Ruby beat Salem at 17!? That’s insane! Which one of us has the strongest versions of our friends? I never thought about it until now.

They all got silent and thought about it for a moment. That was a very good question.

Jaune:Ummm mysterious voice? Do you have an answer to that?

[Each person varies, but a majority is between Orange and Red. For example, Orange has the strongest Blake, while Red has the strongest Sun.]

Jaune:What about in terms of team RWBY?

[The feats in all universes make that a close race. Red, Orange, and Blue have extremely powerful Yangs that would most likely in a brutal draw. Collectively, the strongest team RWBY would be a tie between Red and Orange]

Jaune:Makes sense, my worlds peaceful.

Jaune:And mine doesn’t have any organized threat against it, just the dangers of living in a world trying to grasp the concept magic and gods again.

Jaune:Well we might not have a concrete answer but I’m sure my wife beats your Ruby. After beating Salem we continued traveling the world to thin out grimm threats, just the two of us. Not that the others didn’t want to but they needed a moment to breathe. Ruby and I however, we were kinda on a high of being the heroes we always dreamed of.

Jaune:Your victory lap was more adventure? Yeah you’re definitely built different from me. My Ruby went on missions but even she took a minute just to breathe. It was a very short minute, but the minute none the less.

[Comparing the two is like comparing an lone apex wolf to a jaguar.]

Jaune:Well then....all of that sounds scary.

Jaune:It wasn’t long before we got a house together. Built it actually, in Vacou. It’s a nice little spot over looking the town and another one in the distance. When Ruby was 19 she had really gotten into her stride and was only getting started. Also, I married her. I had known for awhile that she was the one so why wait? I wanted to go on all of her adventures and create new ones with her.

Jaune:Aaaaawwwww

Jaune:Things were like walking on sunshine. All of Remnant knew about Ruby Rose, the huntress that saved the world with her friends. Then at 21, I got her pregnant. *scratches head*

Jaune:I know that scratch. That’s the “My bad” scratch!

Jaune:Okay, it wasn’t exactly planned. I was thrilled when I found out since I did want kids with her. I learned a month after she knew though because she wasn’t sure what to think at first. Ruby was perfectly happy being the hero, she hadn’t even hit her prime yet technically. When she told me though, it was after she had talked about it with Tai and thought about it. I think she might’ve been happier than me.

Jaune:My Ruby would give anything to have a kid.

Jaune:Mine would give anything for her husband back...

The mood suddenly got a little less cheery with that statement.

Jaune:Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.

Jaune:It’s fine...this next part....isn’t happy. It’s the reason I fell out of shape, and partly the reason why I look like I’ve gone through shit.

Jaune:Oh....no...

Jaune:You lost the baby?

Jaune:Yeah but uhhh, not the way you’re thinking. The pregnancy was fine, the birth was a little rough but it was fine. A little baby boy, Dustin Arc-Rose. I saw him for about five minutes and then he was stolen, by Neo and Cinder. I must’ve ran the fastest I’ve ever had that day. Faster than even Ruby can move on a good day, and yet they got away. Yang, Weiss, and I stood on the roof of that hospital and watched the airship fade into the sunset. I must’ve stayed up there for hours, screaming. Yang and Weiss kept it together for my sake but not by much.

Jaune:Dude I am....I am so sorry that you went through that.

Jaune:We showed mercy to Cinder the day we beat Salem. It came back to bite us. Things fell apart after that. I shutdown, the others felt guilty, especially Yang. As for Ruby, she broke a little. She looked longer than anyone else for a lead and drowned herself in work for about a year. In that time we didn’t talk, I never knew where she was, if she’d come back. Tai ended up taking me to live with him and unfortunately, time wasn’t gonna wait for anyone. Lives had to be lived, Yang and Blake still had to get married. It just didn’t happen with Ruby.

Jaune:How did you even find the strength to keep going after that?

Jaune:In my world, Yang is my closet friend. Thick as thieves, the two of us always try to pick each other up. She never hesitated to be by my sad whenever I asked. I don’t think I could’ve made it without her since Ruby was gone. One day however, the two of them showed up out of the blue. Ozpin had decided to confront Ruby. For once I was glad he meddling in our lives. He got her to start moving on and come back to me. That day I realized how special my friends are. Most people would’ve looked down on me for failing, not going after Ruby, breaking down, but not them. They wanted me back on my feet for my own sake. Just like they wanted for her. I’m really blessed.

Jaune:That’s good. Friendships that you want to live for, I’m glad we wall have that in common.

Jaune:Yeah. Ruby and I took some time to be together after that. No work, no leads, just healing. In that year she was gone, Ruby had become a juggernaut in the huntsman community. Even got a nickname, The Storyteller. Keeping up with someone like that meant getting back into shape. Those months we spent together gave us a slither of the joy we had missed. Eventually, thanks to Yang having her child, we found the courage to try having another one. Her name is Carmine and she’s my gorgeous daughter. We even have another son much later named Garnet.

The other three Jaune’s clap happily.

Jaune:Yeah, that’s definitely a lot of shit to go through.

Jaune:Hats off to ya.

Jaune:How’s Carmine?

Jaune:*puts head on the table* Uuuugggghhh!

Jaune:Yeah, that’s sound you make when you have a headstrong daughter. Who does she take after?

Jaune:That’s just it, she doesn’t really. Not in personality anyways. Carmine is a bit weird socially. She can be pretty blunt, making her sound rude. She doesn’t mind having friends but at the same time keeps them at arms reach. She says they would slow her down. Not to mention her and Ruby’s vision of what a huntress should be doesn’t match up perfectly so they end up butting heads on occasion. Still, Carmine is sweet if you know how to talk to her and understand her words.

Jaune:She gifted?

Jaune:*inhales*....Carmine is genius in battle. We taught her ourselves and sent her to regular school so she gained a bit of social skills. No one outside of selected few knows she has silver eyes. Carmine wears red contacts typically. New types of grimm pop up regularly so Cinder is obviously alive and well. Can’t be too careful.

Jaune:Sounds stressful. I’d rather deal with cult and my world’s grimm problem than Cinder. How old is Carmine?

Jaune: She’s 17 and more impressive than Ruby was at that age if I’m being honest. Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. We’ve done our best to give her a normal childhood as much as possible. I think what we gave was an odd mix of normal and insanity.

Jaune:Honestly, same.

Jaune:What do you mean Carmine is more impressive? Ruby was awesome since day zero at Beacon.

Jaune:Silver eye use, age five.

......

Red took a sip of his coffee while everyone tried to wrap that around their head.

Jaune:Since a young age, I knew Carmine was special. She has a difficult time showing up but she loves the Remnant we’re trying to build and the people in it that want to do good. I’ve seen her look out over cities before and I could feel the immense desire she had to preserve it. That girl has a strength I don’t think I could take credit for. That stern look, height, hair, and guitar skills though, That’s me. The tipsy of her hair are red though. She’s like a half ripe strawberry, hahaha.

Jaune:Sounds like an incredible girl. Must be pretty popular.

Jaune:If she could come off a bit nicer she would! I’d give up Pumpkin Pete’s for life if this kid could learn to work well with others. I’m glad people like her cousin and a couple of others that can deal with her. It’s not all bad. They know to bring out the normal teenager with her.

Jaune:Is she like Ruby and panics at rats?

Jaune:No, but she can’t deal with spiders. We have grimm spiders that are actually terrifying and that ruined normal spiders with her too.

Jaune:Grimm spiders? How big? A boot size?

Jaune:SUV....one spun her in a web. It was really bad.

Jaune:Fuuuuuuck that! I’d hate spiders too!

Jaune:Yeah but she has fun. Ballet, sleep, horses, etc. You just have to get her to work up to it.

Jaune:What about your son?

Jaune:Garnet? He’s five, has fat cheeks, and is probably eating some dry cereal right about now. He’s Ruby’s little teddy bear and is chillin. He’s probably the only thing that makes Carmine a big softie at the drop of a hat.

Jaune:Sounds like you’re doing pretty well for yourself? That’s good.

Jaune:We have struggles but we make things work somehow.

Jaune:I still can’t believe Cinder killed your kid. I don’t think I’d ever recover.

Jaune:Lost....we lost a kid. Killed wouldn’t be the right word. Dustin...just isn’t....it’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.

Jaune:Sorry.

Jaune:It’s fine. That aside, I think most things life throws at us, we’ll handle just fine.

Jaune:What do you think Carmine is up to right now?

Jaune:Good question. I don’t think she’s on any mission or working with local authorities currently. If it’s morning then she’s in the garden. Playing with Garnet if it’s the afternoon so he’ll tired out. If it’s night time then.....

xxxx

“STAY AWAY!!!” A man screamed, shooting four bullets down a dark alley in the middle of the night. His target, a pair of shimmering red eyes that patiently stalked him from the shadows as he sprinted away. Each bullet seem to go right by his target so he continued running for his life, making a sharp right turn around a corner.

“You know eventually I’m going to catch you right?” Carmine said as she walked. “I’d rather you not make this longer than it has to be Tommy. We could be done by now if you just spoke to me.”

The only response the girl received was the sound of footsteps getting further away and a chain link fence being shook. Carmine sighed and looked around her before picking up a trash lid. She hurled it against a wall to her left and that was ahead in front of her, making it bounce off towards the right. The hunk of metal made its way around the corner with a whack! Followed by a heavy thump that hit the ground. Carmine continued walking until she turned the corner and found her target on the ground. He was rubbing his back in pain and groaning.

“Come on, I know I didn’t hit you that hard. The new head of crime orginization wouldn’t go down so-”

Suddenly the brute lunged at her, revealing a previously concealed dagger. Carmine was quick to react however, and grabbed his wrist before the blade could make contact with her exposed stomach. Carmine then twisted his hand down word and forced his entire arm slam down to the groun; the blade pierced the ground at her feet. Thick yellow liquid secreted from blade and soaked the ground.

Tommy felt his stomach dropped as he looked up to see the young girl staring down at him unimpressed. He went to reach for the knife but Carmine placed her boot on his hand, hard.

“Gah!”

“See? Now that’s what I was expecting. Too bad you’re not so good with knives. I guess you figured you didn’t have to be when it had Deathstalker venom in it huh? Now... let’s talk.”

Carmine rubbed her foot into the ground, causing Tommy to grit his teeth in pain.

“Stop!” He pleaded. “You’ll break it!”

“It won’t break if you talk fast enough. Tell me what I want to hear. A month ago you weren’t in charge. A tubby guy was and he always kept crates of his equipment in a warehouse outside of town. Then someone apparently shows up to have a meeting, tubby is enraged and kicks them out. Now he’s dead and you’re in charge, moving all of his stuff after you had a meeting. Are you getting the picture I’m painting?”

Tommy’s face goes pale. He starts struggling harder to free himself but it’s not working. Carmine can see the man start to sweat as if he got caught in the rain.

“Now I know what you’re thinking, if you tell me who obviously threatened you to move the crates, then they’ll kill you. But that’s the thing about the future Tommy...”

Carmine lifts her foot and swings it right into his face. She watches Tommy hold is face in pain before rolling him over and putting her knee on his back. Carmine grabs the knife and spooks him by stabbing it beside his face.

“It happens later. Focus on the present. Focus on what I could do to you right now and how to prevent that. Then you can think about your future.” Carmine said, not an ounce of playfulness in her voice.

“I....I....w-well I-”

“Before you try lying to me, I know how Deathstalker venom works. Only the babies are venomous and those are extremely hard to find here. Admittedly I don’t know you well but I know your men. They don’t have the patience or brains to find any here, because there aren’t many. So you either got the venom for this knife by being very diligent, going to a different continent, or someone got you the critters.”

Carmine leaned in close, barely away from his ear. “Or should I say made you some, instead of gathering them? Tommy, where is Cinder Fall?”

Tommy felt like he could vomit at any second. He couldn’t let intel leak. He sold his soul to a witch and now he has to live with it. “I....I can’t say.” He whispered, his lip trembling.

“I see. The fear is too much for you. Should’ve chose a different line of work. Maybe you’ll change your tune if you learn to fear me more?” Carmine grabbed the knife. “This won’t kill you but I doubt it’ll feel good either.”

Carmine lifted the knife and held is hand in place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. She tried asking nicely. “Sorry....”

“CARMINE!” A loud voice echoed through the alleyways and made the people in it freeze. Tommy tilted his head up and got goosebumps. On the roof was a person everyone knew and criminals wish to avoid. Ruby Rose, he hadn’t seen her in person before. The woman’s cloak covered the area as she jumped down gracefully.

With no noise, her heels hit the ground and stood before the pinned man. Her piercing silver eyes borrowed into him and her long hair blew out of her face by the alley draft. Tommy’s back freed of Carmine’s knee and the young girl raised him to his feet. While Ruby’s expression was calm and oddly inviting, Carmine still looked at the man annoyed. Time was valuable and he was wasting hers. He might’ve escaped the knife but now he was stuck between two women that could all but erase him.

“Y...You’re Ruby Ro-”

“I had this under control by the way.” Carmine cut him off. “Don’t see why you intervened.

“You had him terrified and about to wet his pants. That’s a bit much don’t you think?” Ruby put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “No need to be so intense.”

Carmine mimicked her mother’s gesture. “And we care about the state of people like him why? Lackeys and gang bangers with too much ego have no right to be coddled when they’re rotting the city away from the underbelly. People like that might as well disappear.”

“Carmine that’s not how....” Ruby let out a long sigh and looked at Tommy. He was clearly trying his best to remain calm. “Sorry about her. You know teenagers, always intense in one way or another.” She let out an embarrassed chuckle.

Tommy flinched again when suddenly a burst of red petals spun around him. Next thing he knew, handcuffs were on him and his back was against the fence he tried to climb earlier. The pair of red and silver eyes stared him down from just out of the shadows. Yet he could still see Ruby’s more positive demeanor.

“I’m going to jail?” He groaned.

Ruby stepped towards him. “Depends, Tommy.” She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “The thing is if you go to jail and I bring you in, Cinder will no doubt send someone to try and kill you. Truthfully, it’s not a bad outcome, for me. I’ll just attack your killer and get more info out of them then you most likely.”

“But...you’d stop them before they kill me, right?”

Ruby shrugged, “I can only go so fast. Who knows what could happen, Tommy. Can you take that chance, knowing you will be at the mercy of circumstances around you for gods know how long?”

“N...no” Tommy gulped.

“I mean I could let you run away right now like nothing happened, but any more meetings with Cinder would be absolute hell on your nerves because there’s no way you can keep this from her. What’s worse, you could fuck up and give us information accidentally overtime and then she’d really be mad because we’ll keep an eye on you as long as you’re doing things we don’t like; an unwilling pawn for both sides until someone knocks you off the board. How does that sound to you?” Ruby’s grip got a little tighter.

“Pr...Pretty bad-

“PRETTY BAD!?” Ruby shouted. “Tommy, you will not come out of this well. You’ll probably be dead within the month if I let you leave right now. So my question is what are you gonna do to save your own skin? Because I know what I would ask for in your situation.”

“What’s that?” He asked, almost desperate for his freedom

“I would spill my guts out to the hero because they would at least try to keep you safe if you behaved. Tell me what you know and I will personally take somewhere where you’ll have a fresh start with a new name, a new life that isn’t Illegal. You’ll still sleep with one eye open just to watch your own back but you also know there’s someone who is actively stopping the person who’d want you dead in the first place. Get off the chessboard Tommy. It sucks to be an expendable pawn.”

Tommy could feel her hand trembling. Was she...nervous? No, she was sympathetic. The way Ruby looked at him wasn’t to scare him. She was stating facts and didn’t want him being another statistic. This was the huntress everyone talked about. The one that gives lifelines and creates new endings where they shouldn’t be possible. The was Ruby Rose, the storyteller.

xxxx

Ruby holds up an envelope to the light before facing Carmine, the sound of waves rocking a boat behind them with Tommy in it. Ruby was a woman of her word. She’d take him somewhere safe.

“Here” she held out the envelop for Carmine. “Take it home, no need for me to lug it across the sea.” She waited for Carmine to say something, anything. The girl only nodded and took the thin piece of paper.

Carmine started to walk off but heard Ruby take a step towards her before stopping. She looked back to see her mother frowning, an expression they were both sharing. Ruby looked at her daughter with her emotions clear as day. It was weird to be eye level with her. Without heels, Ruby would be looking up. Carmine had gotten so big the last few years. It was hard not see her as still little.

“I...I know we don’t agree on certain things, and I also know you feel like I helicopter over you. I don’t do it because I don’t trust you or anything like that. Fact of the matter is...I’m your mother. If I can find a way to solve a problem without you doing something drastic, even if you’re willing to do it, then I’m gonna step in. Just because you’re willing to make the tough calls, doesn’t mean I won’t try to keep them away from you. They weigh people down and I don’t want that for you. You’re my daughter, I love you...”

Ruby always hated their fights. It’s why they don’t do missions together. No matter how strong Carmine is, she’ll always be Jaune and Ruby’s little girl. Truthfully, she didn’t hate it at all. Carmine hated arguing too, if not more.

“I get it mom, I do. Perhaps...I was a tad hasty tonight. Thanks for...showing up.” Carmine scratched her head in embarrassment. Since when did talking to her own mom get so rough. “I love you too.” There, she said it.

Ruby gave her daughter a gentle smile and opened her arms, hoping for a hug. She knew she might be getting a bit too mushy right now but unexpectedly, Carmine walked over and embraced it without question. Ruby wasn’t about to complain. Any affection was welcomed at all times when it came from Carmine. Ruby finally let her go and got one more look at her daughter. Time sure does fly.

“My beautiful girl. I saw the trash lid truck by the way, that was pretty badass.”

Carmine playfully rolled her eyes and opened the evelope. Ruby watched the girl read over the paper several times before handing it back. “Got it.”

Ruby’s eyebrows perked up in surprise. A shocked smile came soon after. “You’re-”

“Of course.” Carmine cut her off. She put her hands together and made a glowing red rose form between them. She placed the thing right behind her mother’s ear and smiled. “See you at home?”

“Yeah, I should be back before morning.”

“Good, I’ll have breakfast waiting for you then.” Ruby watch her daughter start to walk off before Carmine slowly blew away into red and yellowish rose petals.

“My oh my, that daughter of mine.” Ruby chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

xxxx

“Done.” Carmine said, rewriting the information down as she layed on the couch. On top of her was her adorable baby brother, fast asleep like he should be. She reached for a candle that lit the room and blew it out. All in all, not a bad night in the slightest. One step closer to their goal. One step closer to the end.

Part 4

Wanna start Rosebud < Part one is a click away.

[folkbore]

—  JOEL X CLAIRE nsfw headcanons

What was their first time like? Passionate, rushed, and a little clumsy! It had been building up to this for so long and their teasing of each other along with general frustrations/the way they get under each other’s skin leads to the two of them having a lot of built up Tension. They both kind of have known they were attracted to each other for awhile but just didn’t want to touch that with a ten foot pole. Joel doesn’t last very long (ha!) but he does immediately get down on his knees to “clean up the mess he made” and promptly takes her upstairs to have another go. Who usually initiates things? Claire! She’s very much someone who loves physical affection and never really learned how to communicate her feeling very well in any way besides physically? It’s not a bad thing it’s just her family were never verbal about their affection (...the very rare affection they had for Claire) and Micah was a very physical person like her. She just in general loves sex and hasn’t had a regular partner (especially one that she cares for) since Micah passed away some 20 years ago (POOR GIRL). Joel is pretty much happy to be along for the ride lmao. How often do they have sex? A lot, if Claire has anything to say about it. A couple times a day when they first start up if they’re able to sneak away for it or just back to back (Joel’s old two rounds is about as far as he can push it though lmao - and Claire has to do the work for that last time). When they settle into their relationship maybe every two-three days? Who is louder/noisier? Claire in terms of volume - she gets very whimpery, breathless and lets out all kind of nice sounds that Joel just loves (except when they’re trying to be quiet which is when he has to put his hand over her mouth). She isn’t very verbal in contrast to Joel who is super verbal + grumbly/low right in her ear but kinda quite save for a few grunts/low moans. Who is more sensitive? They’re both super touch-starved at the start but Claire is more obviously sensitive especially because her noises give her away. Joel definitely has a few spots here or there that make him come undone but Claire has to do quite a bit of exploring to figure those out. Of course, when she does she’s relentless. Whenever she kisses just behind his ear he immediately gets hard and she’s the worst tease with it. What’s foreplay often like? Joel ‘King of Eating Pussy’ Miller absolutely takes care of his lady. They really love kissing though and often do quite amount of making out with some roaming hands if they have the time. Joel is UH quite thick and is a bit hard for Claire to take sometimes so foreplay is really important for them and Joel makes sure he’s at least fingered her a bit before moving onto the main event. Claire also really likes giving head! It gives her a little amount of power that she’s cool with and loves the way Joel reacts. She likes to take control sometimes and that’s one of her favorite ways to do so especially when she stops for a bit and makes him watch her take care of herself.

Favorite place to have sex? Their bed for the ability to take their time buuuut they’re both definitely into doing it in risky places where they could get caught. Also with how much Joel teases Claire, she’s bound to pull him into an alley/supply closet/literally anywhere just to get some action. Joel has eaten her out in...a lot of places in Jackson and the surrounding area lmao. The guard towers have seen a LOT of Joel Miller on his knees.

Favorite position to have sex? Joel loves any position he can be close to/pressed up against Claire as much as he can. He loves skin on skin and even when they’re in a rush he’ll yank her shirt up just so their skin can touch (touch-starved old man...). Claire really loves doggy-style so they meet in the middle and usually Joel takes her from behind and presses his stomach against her back and kisses at her neck. Also the angle is really nice especially when he shoves a pillow under her hips to raise them up. Joel also loves when she rides him and is filthy talking to her when she does so. He just likes to watch her. Cowgirl + Joel sitting up with his legs crossed and Claire in his lap is a also a great compromise for the two of them. 

Who’s best at oral sex/oral headcanons? Joel is the best end of. Claire is good and she enjoys it which makes it 10x better! Enthusiasm is everything!! Joel’s just got nice fingers to accompany a good head game which takes it to the next level. Who’s more likely to tickle their partner? I don’t think either of them on purpose but Claire is definitely ticklish and the thought of Joel having one or two places that get him SENDS ME. Tbh Claire might do it just because it makes Joel annoyed-horny which gets her fucked harder. Who’s more romantically sexual? Joel is the one who slows it down if he wants their sex to be a little more sensual/loving. Claire likes all types of sex and thinks it’s romantic just to be with him but when Joel really needs some love he definitely Who’s better at dirty talk/dirty talk headcanon? Nicknames are a Thing in bed with them and so is dirty talk. Joel is fantastic and dirty talk and usually does it low and rumbly right in Claire’s ear. He’s usually complimentary and encouraging, telling Claire she’s a good girl and asking her questions even though her damn brain isn’t working Joel!!! He just really loves to tell her how good she feels/how wet she is/asking her what’s got her so worked up/etc. He’s also such a smug dick about when she makes loud noises and is always like “You like that, huh?” Do they have sexual nicknames or titles? Lmao...no titles?? But Joel strictly calls Claire ‘baby’ in bed and in bed only. So much so that Claire teases him about it when they’re in public with shit like “Isn’t that right, baby?” which makes him scowl and grumble cause Claire please stop giving him boners in public.

Who’s more likely to be caught masturbating? Claire!! She likes to do it and has relied on it for so long that sometimes when Joel is out late/on a trip/visiting Tommy or something she’ll do her own damn thing. That of course often results in Joel stumbling in on her - his favorite thing to come home to.

Who looks at porn more/porn headcanons? I don’t think it’s that readily available post-apocalypse but I think in a Modern AU Claire would look at it more. 

Who usually cums first? Claire! Joel tries but sometimes she’s whining and grinding back onto him very purposefully and he just can’t help it. It’s even worse when on the very rare occasion she begs Joel to come inside her and then he’s done for.  How long can they go? Not too bad time-wise! Depends how regularly they’ve been going at it but Joel is older and more experienced so his stamina is pretty good! Enough to get Claire there and maybe back again which makes her more than happy! What are their safewords? Ironically I don’t think they’re very into BDSM/stuff that would require a safeword. No/Stop/Hold On/etc is a full stop for them. Any routines? They definitely fall into routines! It’s hard not to in Jackson - a normal life is really easy to slip into eventually. They like to have sex right before bed if they can, both of them have a hard time sleeping for obvious reasons and it really relaxes them. That sex is usually pretty lazy (Joel eats Claire out/missionary and then to sleep) just because of all the work they do during the day. Do they have a dynamic (Dom/sub) or are they versatile? Joel is typically more dominant but Claire likes to have control sometimes (most of the time she does just like to be taken care of) and Joel is a lot more willing than he’d like to admit.They do like to tease and “fight” a little over it a bit especially since they’re both so stubborn. Mostly because of how could she looks when she rides him.

What roleplay scenarios do they have/want? COWBOY AND DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. Uhhh...the oh we don’t know each other/strangers scenario but Claire starts moaning his name and Joel isn’t going to tell her to stop lmao. VOYEUR but Joel watching Claire get off is just a thing they regularly do. Musician/groupie is also up there but only once and they definitely start laughing too hard to keep it going. What sextoys do they use? None! I’m not letting poor Claire shove 20 year old toys up her coochie. No ma’am. I do think in a Modern AU Joel would definitely like to see Claire use one though. Who, if anyone, would they most likely bring in to join them? Honestly, none. They don’t strike me as good at sharing. Shared kinks/fetishes? So many it hurts. Claire likes being thrown around a bit/dominated and Joel likes to put her exactly where he wants her. Joel loves coming inside her and Claire practically begs for it sometimes. If they have time edging/orgasm denial is definitely a thing with them. Sex in risky places/light choking/hair-pulling/Joel going down on her after he’s come inside her - it’s all there at some point! Joel takes a little convincing to try something new though lmao.

Something they tried and won’t do again? Any kind of tying Claire down and honestly I think Joel has some stuff with this too. It’s just the kind of world they live in and at a few points Claire has been tied up and powerless (not in a sexual situation just in a captured/general sense) and the first time they try it Claire gets a little panicky so they stop. What would each member say their favorite thing about the other(s) is? Joel loves Claire’s lips, legs and hands. He has a thing for her hands/fingers and definitely sucks on them a lot/loves handjobs from her because her hands are so graceful despite being super calloused from archery (honestly that makes them better). Claire loves Joel’s belly, his back and his hands too! He’s pretty talented with those fingers - a result of all the guitar playing. Joel also loooves the noises Claire makes and Claire loves how much bigger he is than her....

[melyaliz]

Remember me pt. 7

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x OC

Notes: I have been having a ton of My Hero Academia ideas which is so annoying because... I just don’t have time to write them. But I may try to do a few shorts? Idk no promises.  

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0- Olive - -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“I need an insult for this character to call the other character,” Olive said looking up from her position on the floor where she was typing away editing the Alien romance she was working on. Eliott was playing some sports video game.

“A cum milkshake,” he said without missing a beat

“What?” Olive let out a slightly shocked laugh.

“You heard me.”

Olive fake gagged rolling her eyes as Eliott burst out laughing “See? It’s perfect, I don’t know any context but I’m sure it’ll fit into any story.”

“You nasty” Olive chuckled going back to her story. “I’ll keep my story questions to only guns, Metal bands, and sports.”

They both lapsed into silence again Olive moving from the floor to the couch continuing to mold her story. The bones were already there; she just needed to add the meat. Like creative insults. Eliott got up moving to their kitchen. A few moments later he reappeared with a glass of something.

“Oh speaking of Cum milkshakes.” Eliott shickered holding out the glass, “Try this.” he held out his beer stein which had what looked like a foamy orange juice.

“Oh fuck what is that?” Olive said, taking a sip without question. Regardless of his off-color jokes she always trusted Eliott with his food and drink concoctions.

“It’s a beer-mosa with that white that Joe gave us.”

“It’s amazing when did you think this up?”

“Right now.”

Reaching down Eliott tried to take the drink from Olive only to have her slowly pull away from him looking up as she took both hands to grip the cup frowning at him.

“Did you want me to make you your own?” he asked chuckling  

“Oh, this one isn’t mine?”

“No, I’ll make you one.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Bakugou has said he would be coming home late that night. Thus Olive had hunkered down with Dolemite to read her stories. Turns out she actually owned hard copies of the books on a shelf next to her desk.  So after finding a blanket she had made herself a nest to dive into her works.

Dragon’s Dick turned out to be officially named “On Dragon’s Wings” about the ups and downs of dating a dragon shifter. Two hours later she was live texting Lilly bits of the story laughing at her work and getting so exciting trying to guess the ending. Lilly was getting a kick out of it texting her back with crazy theories even though she knew just how things turned out.

Olive was in it deep which was why she felt like she was waking from a dream when the door opened to her apartment. Dolemite letting out a soft meow before walking up to greet the blonde.

Her husband.

She could hear him curse at the cut along with a string of low words she assumed were in Japanese. It made her chuckle as she was sure the clingy cat almost tipped him on his way in. The fluffy cat had a way of getting right under your feet when you didn’t pay attention to him.

A  moment later Katsuki came into the living room his dark red eyes searching for her slightly desperately only to relax when his gaze fell on her curled up in her fluffy blanket. She smiled up at him, eyebright body much more relaxed than they had been.

“Welcome home.”

“How’s it going?” he grunted nodding toward the book in her hand,

“I’m actually good! And like… it’s like reading all my ideas but finished!”

“Well that’s because they are,” he said sitting down next to her.

“I see so many things etched in these too… and some things I think are… maybe you?”

“Huh?” that took him by surprise.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, flipping through a few pages trying to find the part. “It’s just so specific and I know it’s not something that.. Uhhh”

“Eliott would do.”

“Yeah”

“What is it?”

“I’m trying to… oh here it is.”

Brock leaned forward to light the fireworks “You light up my world” Cami said giggling at her own stupid joke.

“God you're stupid.” he chuckled his golden eyes flickering toward her as he, without looking lit up the firework. It sparked and flew up into the sky exploding into a million colors raining down on them. He was showing off now. Cocky smile on his face. “

Bakugou frowned, he had honestly never read her books. She had never asked him too so he just never had. But he now had a strong desire to pour over each text to see just what she thought of him. “You then tried to light one and almost set yourself on fire.”

“That’s in here too.” she laughed her thumbs going over the pages. “When did we start dating? This book says it was published about 3 and a half years ago.”

“Almost 4 years ago, we have been married for almost 2.”

“So we would have been together during at least some of this. That would make sense. Since there is a bit of a shift in tone from the first few chapters and the last ones. In fact this book in general is a bit different from my other ones that I do remember.”

“Oh?” Now he was really curious.  

“Before my stuff was more… funny. Offbeat and silly. And this one is a lot like that, maybe a bit darker humor and then it kind of shifts to…” she paused holding the book in her hands, “almost tender.”

“Tender?” something about that made his heart heavy. Tender. He wasn’t sure he would call their relationship tender. Fiery sure. Passionate yes. But Tender?

Bakugou wasn’t a tender guy.  

But thinking back to those first few months. Late nights texting. Video chatting. Her just smiling at him while he spent an hour explaining moves he was working on. Venting about work or just life. That one time she made him watch Miami Connection with her when she came to Japan and her laughing so hard she was in tears while he screamed at her asking why she would put him through something like that.

He didn’t think of those moments as tender but she did.

All those times he could catch her just smiling at him. Just sitting there watching him do whatever it was he was doing with this look that he couldn’t describe. At first, he used to get mad, thinking she was laughing at him feeling insecure about her gaze. But whenever he confronted her about it she would just shrug and go “I just like you.”

Then one day it was just normal. To see her catch his eye and just give him that soft smile. Like he was the greatest thing that had ever lived.

Looking back at it now was like seeing it in a different shade of color. Something about that seemed so strange to him. As if he was looking at this from an outsider. Looking in on someone else’s relationship.

“Hey Katsuki” her voice was soft and he was taken out of his musings. He turned studying her feeling that deep sadness that came from knowing that you may have lost something forever. All that history they had built together. A fear that maybe she wouldn’t like him anymore. She would want what she used to have so much more. That those looks she used to give him were gone forever. “I want to go to therapy.”

“What?” of all the things he thought she would say he wasn’t expecting that. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Didn't want to. As if he so much as made a sudden movement this moment would disappear too.

“Is there some way I could do that? Maybe I could find a way to jog my memories. I just… I hate this.” she studied his face, both of them trying to read the other trying to find what they had lost. “I want to remember you.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The next few weeks were weird ones. Bakugou would take a random day off here and there and even come home early or leave late. Just to make sure she felt comfortable in her environment. Help her find some sort of routine so she could do things without him needing to help her. While she always told him she could figure it out it was partly for him. He just wanted to make sure she was safe.

She started going to a therapist about twice a week and some things seemed to be coming back.

Mostly her Japanese.

Which made sense since she had been studying it for around a year before Eliott’s death. So Bakugou wasn’t sure if that was coming back because he was starting to talk to her in Japanese to help her or if it really was her memory.

There were other small things. Maybe muscle memory. When they would sleep he would feel her reach out for him, her fingers brush his side as if confirming he was there. He wasn’t sure if it was him or Eliott that she was reaching for but he didn’t care. Taking her fingers in his own he would hold onto her and pretend it was her body remembering him. Even if her mind didn’t

“Baku Baku?”

Bakugou froze at the nickname. He hadn’t heard that one in a long time. It was as if an icy hand had clinched his heart squeezing it hard. “What?” he asked.

“This video,” she said holding up. “Lilly sent it last night”

Olive was on Lilly’s floor laughing and talking in a mix of English and Japanese. He remembered that night. They had flown to the US to see some friends and family. While there Lilly, Clare, their husbands, and a few other friends had all gone out drinking. Olive had ended up taking shots with Clare and the two girls had gotten very drunk. Bakugou had basically half dragged, half carried her back to Lilly’s place

“That’s my fiance Baku Baku, he’s so cute.” Olive was saying as pointed at someone off screen.

“Good luck with that she’s done.” Lilly’s voice laughed from behind the camera.

“Are you filming me!?!” Olive asked, pouting her glassy eyes glaring at the camera.

“Yeah Nickie wanted to make sure you made it home”

“Nickie I’m going to cuddle the shit out of my Baku Baku. and then I’m going to...”

“Ok we are done,” Bakugou said coming into frame, bending down picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She giggled looking at the camera mouthing ‘wow so strong’. Then leaning forward she started not so quietly whispering to him

“I’m going to suck your--”

“Bedtime!” Bakugou said, shoving his hand over her mouth making her laugh.

That had been over almost 3 years ago but it felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

“Damn your arms are huge,” Olive said, zooming in on the image of Bakugou’s arm holding her. His bicep looking particularly large from the angel he was flexing.

“Hard work,” he smirked, enjoying the praise.

“I can’t believe you picked me up.”

“I can still pick you up,” he stated.

She giggled, shaking her head, “I believe you... Baku Baku.”

“God idiot.” as much as he hated that nickname he couldn’t help but admit it sounded amazing at the moment. Was he really that desperate for some sort of normalcy?

“Oh and this one too!” she giggled pulling up another video. Olive was standing slightly flushed, her arm slung over Momo’s. They were in a bar, colorful lights pulsing with the music blasting above. Mina’s voice came from behind the camera, clearly filming the two other girls.

“What happened?”

“This guy tried to grab Momo’s tits so I told him to take his little dick energy somewhere else and leave my wife alone.”

“Oh are you guys married now?” there was a giggle at the end of Mina’s voice, clearly finding the exchange hilarious. Momo had long ago gotten used to Olive’s very physical way of loving her friends and shrugged under her best friend’s arm.

“Yep, sorry Baku Baku.” Olive said, grinning pulling Momo closer to her playfully.

“Momo?” Olive said pointing to the girl,

“She’s one of my classmates from high school. She’s a pro, number 5 actually. You, her and the girl talking are all really good friends. There is also June that girl there.”

“Oh, where were you there that night?”

“No that was a girl’s night.”

She nodded looking at the video, “Can we go hang out with them? Would that be weird?”

Bakugou didn’t want to tell her that they had all been asking about her for weeks but he… he kind of wanted to keep her all to himself. Like if he held her close enough maybe he could pretend they were fine. And showing his old classmates what had happened was something that may have happened on his watch.

“I don’t know…” he said slowly.

They hadn’t found much on the mysterious America. He seemed to have disappeared into the wind. While Olive didn’t really go anywhere alone and Bakugou hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary to suspect he was coming back he still felt overly protective.

Maybe the America thing had just been some weird fluke.

But he had this feeling it wasn’t. Deep down it just didn’t feel right.

And no one from her past life had a querk like that.

He looked over at her. She was looking up at him clutching her phone with wide eyes. She looked so cute like that. “Please? I’m in the best city in the world and I feel like all I do is stay in here and read my own stuff.”

“I’m here” he hadn’t meant it to come out as hurt as it did but. It had.

“And you’ll be there too?” it was posed like a question, he wasn’t sure if that was a language mix up, she kept seeming to do that. Some sort of old bad habit. Maybe it had something to do with living in California. They all talked like they were asking questions.

“I can see if some of the old gang is available. But I doubt Momo will be. She is busy.”

“Mina and Kirishima too?” she asked breaking into a smile. He knew she was really only asking for them because they were the only other names she had seen. Mina had reached out even after Bakugou had told her not too. The two girls had gone back and forth a little bit. Mina’s English was ok and Olive’s Japanese getting better.

“I’ll ask. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“OK!” she giggled excitedly and he felt a sense of dread about it. Anxiety building up slightly at the idea.

“I said don’t get excited.”

“Too late Baku Baku!” she jumped up almost tripping over the blanket still wrapped around her. Instinctively he reached for her but pulled away when he saw her right herself.

“Don’t call me that!” it came out harsher than he meant it too. Force of habit. But glancing over at Olive she was already back on her phone looking through old photos of a girl’s life she had lived but didn’t know anything about. Her feet leading her toward the bedroom. Probably already planning her outfit.

He was going to regret this wasn’t he  

Slowly she stopped in the hallway that split the living room from the other rooms in the apartment. Turning to him she looked at him confused.

“Are you coming to bed?”

His heart lurched at the image. Her all wrapped up in her blanket waiting for him. So familiar it made him want to lunge forward pulling her to him. Press her back to the wall while pushing his body against hers. To wrap himself up around her while she looked up at him with that little playful smile.

Instead, he just stood shoving his hands into his pockets as if that would hold him back. “Whatever, needy,” he mumbled, passing her as he walked toward the bedroom. She giggled watching him before bouncing after him. Like always ignoring his jabs as if she found them endearing.

Guess some things don’t change even if everything else does.

-GET TAGGED-

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

[harrywavycurly]

Interview with the Horans!

This is a compilation of questions I’ve received for Niall and Delilah to answer and I did it as if they were sitting down doing an interview, I hope you enjoy and that it helps give you an insight into the lives of the Horans! If you have no clue what I’m talking about Niall and Delilah are from my Insta Story you can find here! 

Q: How did you two meet?

Niall: At an after party of a sports event I believe? She’s gonna kill me if I got it wrong. 

Delilah: Really? An after party? You’re so annoying. We met at a sports event that I didn’t want to go too but my friend Phoebe dragged me to it and I ran into Niall at the bar it was all super casual.

Niall: Ya sure, if ya call her almost knockin me over ta order a bloody drink casual. 

Q: How did you ask Delilah to be your girlfriend? 

Niall: Oh god uh I jus sat her down and asked her if she wanted to be exclusive an she laughed at me cos she was like “who the hell uses the term exclusive? you’re such an old man” dat was probably after we had been on like four or so dates. I jus enjoyed bein round her. 

Delilah: It was super cute, he gets all blushy and adorable. He was nervous and I have no clue as to why, he had already asked to share my calendar with him to see what dates work for us and everything. Like that’s a pretty big deal. 

Q: What’s a normal day in the life like for the Horans?

Niall: nine times outta ten shes up before me, she was like dat even before the girls. She can stay awake till six in da bloody mornin and be up at eight ready to rock n roll. S’a bit disturbin, but our days when M’not on tour are very like every other married couples... jus wit a set of twins.

Delilah: We go on a walk in the mornings, we’ve been doing that ever since I was pregnant, and while on the walk is when we lay out the game plan for the day. So if he has any meetings or anything he’ll tell me so I can plan my day around it. So like yesterday he had a photo shoot for something-

Niall: Cos m’a model now. Just so ya know.

Delilah: Right...so anyway he had his model thing so the girls and I brought him lunch and he was home at a decent time to help with their bedtime routine.

Niall: I feel like we are pretty normal ta be honest like we don’t do a lot of extravagant shit.

Delilah: Not anymore no.

Niall: We were never like jet settin on tons of trips and stuff we’ve always kinda just went from New York to California. We like ta lay low.

Delilah: As low as a former member of one of the largest boy bands in the world can lay....he forgets who he is sometimes. But yes we do kinda just stick to the two places and don’t go out much unless it’s to dinner because I like to eat out a lot. It’s a problem that I’m working on. Oh and Niall likes to go to parties without me but that’s not typically part of a normal day in the life of us.

Niall: M’not even gonna go der wit you.

Q: Speaking of parties, Delilah it’s pretty obvious you don’t like being left at home while Niall goes and has fun.

Delilah: Yeah he’s an asshole. He met Post Malone while I was at home trying to get comfy with my damn pregnancy pillow! And him and Shawn just are super annoying when they get drunk together. But I don’t mind him having his bro time and going out without me, I just like being dramatic.

Niall: Yeah m’da worst at like tryin ta plan parties and invitin her cos half the time they are so last minute and I know she does not do last minute.

Delilah: No I need at least four hours to prepare myself to be around people and to like get dressed and all that not so fun stuff. 

Q: Who said I love you first?

Niall: She did. During an argument matter of fact, it was pretty memorable. 

Delilah: I said it during a moment of passion Niall James not a full blown argument. it was like a “God why do I have to love you so much?” Don’t make it sound so dramatic. 

Niall: M’pretty sure yelling it in the middle of a “passionate argument” is the same as jus sayin it in an argument babe but okay. 

Delilah: It’s totally different, you’re just a dumb boy you wouldn't understand.

Q: Rumor has it you two broke up briefly while Niall was on tour just after releasing Flicker. Is that true? 

Delilah: Yes it’s true. Couples take breaks. Look at Ross and Rachel, it worked out fine for them. 

Niall: Really ya gonna bring Ross and Rachel into dis? They suffered fo a few years before actually bein happy...

Delilah: I mean are you upset that I forgave you too soon? 

Q: Why did you two break up?

Delilah: Yeah Niall why did we break up? 

Niall: Yer such an arse. Uhhh can we skip dis one? We’re allowed like one skip right? 

Delilah: Nope. The people want to know and you always say you’re a man of the people. 

Niall: I cheated. Next question please. 

Q: What songs on Flicker are about Delilah?

Niall: None of em. 

Delilah: Did you hear that world? I was not the muse for that sad ass album so stop blaming me for breaking this man’s heart. 

Niall: Slow hands is bout her I guess, it was written after a date wit her to a bar so yeah, slow hands s’bout her. 

Delilah: I'll allow that one. 

Niall: Oh and So Long. But that’s not on the album so...but most of the songs I didn’t necessarily write wit anyone in mind more of an emotion I wanted ta get across. 

Q: When the two of you were dating who was the best at keeping in touch with the other?

Niall: She was at first then I’d say it was pretty even once we got a bit mo serious. We always had a good long chat at the end of each day tho no matter if we only exchanged two texts throughout the day.

Delilah: In the beginning I was just nosey and wanted to know what he was doing all the time. Then I realized he legit is either in the studio or he’s playing golf or at some sort of event. We still do the phone call each night when he’s away. 

Q: What’s something you love about each other? 

Niall: Easy! Her love of life, she is someone that ya jus wanna be around cos she will make ya smile and makes ya ten times happier jus being in the same room as her. 

Delilah: Awe you’re so sweet! I honestly love the fact Niall will never tell you anything just because he knows you want to hear it, he doesn’t sugar coat things and I know that sounds odd to like love that about someone but it’s just refreshing. I love knowing that if I ask him for his opinion it's going to be 100% honest and how he truly feels and sometimes it makes me want to smack him but mostly I just appreciate what he has to say. 

Niall: Oh an I love her laugh. 

Delilah: Niall also has a very nice ass so you can put that down as something I love as well. 

Niall: Delilah Grace...m’not arguing though.

Q: So Niall this is mainly for you, how has it been dealing with how often Delilah posts about your private life since normally you like to keep that to yourself.

Delilah: Ohhhh good question!

Niall: I don’t mind it really, s’not like she posts pics of me doin anythin scandalous. I think she shows another side ta me dat the fans enjoy, it shows them dat I’m like I always say, a normal guy wit jus an abnormal job. Also her captions are jus...somethin else she has such a way wit words.

Delilah: He laughs so hard at the photos I post of him looking annoyed. He loves those the best.

Niall: I’d also say she’s da reason my posts have gotten a bit more personal. She’s helped me realize dat my Instagram an twitter doesn’t have ta jus be all Niall Horan the musician. The fans and everyone wanna jus get ta know me.

Delilah: You’re welcome world.

Q: So you two have been married for almost a year now right? What’s been the best part of being married?

Delilah: I get lots of free stuff, it’s pretty freakin great if I’m being honest. 

Niall: Ignore her, yes we’ve been married almost a year now, hard ta believe s’only been a year. 

Delilah: I mean having the girls seemed to take up a big part of the year so I’d honestly say the best part of being married so far is just knowing he’s fully mine now and I get to be in his life forever. Sounds lame when I say it out loud.

Niall: I think the best part is jus knowin that she’s there. Like she always has my back on anythin an bein able to point to her an be like “oh dats my wife.” I enjoy that quite a lot if m’bein totally honest wit ya. 

Q: So the twins they are adorable by the way, what was your initial reaction when you found out you were having twins?

Niall: I absolutely almost shit myself it took me completely off guard.

Delilah: Same! But really I was kinda hoping I was having twins because lord was I getting huge kinda faster than I had anticipated.

Niall: It’s also in the long run good cos we only wanted two so like boom! One an done is what they say right?

Delilah: No one says that about kids you weirdo.

Niall: S’for sure a thing people say even bout kids. 

Q: Who takes care of the kids more?

Delilah: Me, just because Niall has a job while I stay home all day in my sweatpants eating.

Niall: Obviously it’s Delilah, she is an actual angel fo everythin she does for the girls and myself even. An jus fo the record she doesn’t wear sweatpants all day, she eventually puts like dem leggin type pants on.

Delilah: Thanks honey. 

Q: So Delilah what would you do if you came home to Niall asleep on the couch when he’s supposed to be watching the girls?

Delilah: It depends. If the girls are also asleep I’d probably cry at how cute they all look passed out.

Niall: Dey are way cuter dan me when they’re alseep.

Delilah: But if he’s asleep and they aren’t...oh hell will be raised in the Horan house. I’d probably smack him with a throw pillow and never let him live that moment down. Like even Shawn hasn’t fallen asleep while watching the girls yet and he’s only watched them after they are asleep so Niall and I can go have dinner alone. 

Q: So is Shawn The Godfather?

Niall: Did he tell you to ask dat?

Delilah: He’s one of them yes.

Niall: We have two godfathers and two godmothers.

Delilah: We are just extra like that, don’t even ask why. 

Q: Last question, how have you handled the fans response towards your relationship? The overall response seems to be everyone pretty much adore the two of you.

Niall: Oh it’s been great really, only a few people here an there have some shitty remark ta say but it’s always something stupid.

Delilah: I think after the first two years it just switched and it’s been for the most part pretty nice. I think at first the fans just didn’t know how serious this was going to be and everyone legit loves Niall so they wanted to make sure I was worthy of him. But I mean we’ve been together for so long now that they’ve fully accepted me.

Niall: Dey have realized she’s not goin anywhere. I mean she met me when I was still in One Direction like jus before the hiatus so she’s been through a lot wit me and the fans love er.

Delilah: Diall till death.

Niall: Oh yeah dats our Uh..what they call it? Ship name? Diall!

[sunflowerdabbles-blog]

hi 💓 could you do one where ben is a regular at this bookshop/coffee shop and he falls in love with this shy girl working there, and he asks her out eventually?

hi, sorry for the long wait! things have been intense lately and i’m not really feeling my best. but anyways! i’m a sucker for bookshop/coffee shop aus so this was really fun and cute to write. hope u like it!! (yeah, it’s ben pining again).

taglist: @luvborhap

*

It wasn’t hard to understand why Ben kept coming back.

The first time he noticed the little coffee-come-bookshop hidden just around the corner of Surrey and Whirling’s Street it was a cloudy tuesday morning and he was driving back home after a meeting with his agent. Not even a particularly exciting one. More of a “hey, you still haven’t got a call back from your last audition but try not to fret about it” kind of meeting; the type that shouldn’t bother him by now and yet still managed to make him feel quite shit. So naturally (and because for some reason it isn’t socially acceptable to get a bit tipsy at ten am), he postponed his original plan of speeding home to maybe hide under the covers for a while and decided to get for a cup of coffee instead.

Lotus’ Coffee, he thought later, was the kind of shop that you just couldn’t miss after you got your eye on it. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, its colourful walls and a strange abundance of plants made it tempting enough to get you on your feet and through the squeaky door. It looked exactly like the place to be whenever things got rough and heavy and you needed to rest your bones a little. (But that’s not what made it special).

That morning though, it appeared to be empty. Just him waiting in line on what seemed like a terribly slow day for everyone. Should’ve stayed in bed with Frankie, Ben thought, his eyes searching around for someone to take his order and landing on a small table, almost completely occupied by a box full of books, all of them carefully wrapped in brown paper and with a note handwritten in the back.

“It’s only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye”, he read, holding a book on his left hand and looking for more with the other, every quote more enchanting than the last and moving him so that he couldn’t help but stay there for a long time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”, a voice said quickly and out of nowhere, distracting him from his search and almost making him drop the box to the floor. “I-I really am, sorry. I’m- Mia is taking her break now and I just. Sorry. May I take your order, sir?”

Technically speaking, Ben knows that life isn’t a movie (regardless of how much he wants it to be sometimes). He knows about the logistics behind the camera, the angles and the lighting all working together in a perfectly organized harmony to make a scene between very tired people, that usually only talk to each other between takes, look like the epitome of good-selling romance. But, that being said, sometimes life comes pretty close or, like now, it’s even better.

The timid voice belonged to a woman that looked to be shaking a bit when, wrapping paper and scissors in hand, she made her way to the counter. Lovely, Ben thought, his hands rapidly getting sweaty while he looked at her try her best to hide the rosy colour that rose to her cheeks and spread until the neck of her shirt. Really really pretty, holy shit.

A cough brought his attention back to the menu, his eyes not really catching anything besides the girl standing behind the counter.

“Uhh, sorry. Yeah, what would you recommend?” Subtle. Years of acting school and a good job and that’s the best that he could come up with?

“Oh. Well, clients seem to like lattes lately? We got a new brew this week if you want- if you would like to try it?”

Ben doesn’t even like lattes. He’s more of a large black coffee with one sugar kind of guy because, in Joe’s words, he’s “bitter and soulless like that”. But there’s no way he could say no to this girl. It’s been five minutes and he feels himself stammer whenever he catches her eyes, his hands itching a little by his sides and definitely not because of the cold outside.

“We have banana bread too? With chocolate chips”

A woman after my own heart, fuck.

“Sure, that sounds perfect”, he replied, an actual full sentence this time, his chest feeling lighter when she gave him a smile before starting to work on his order; the book on his hand suddenly feeling like the most important thing in the world.

“So, was it your idea? The books and the wrapping, I mean. It’s lovely”

Her cheeks got red again and Ben felt like melting; following the movement of her hands and the tiny shine in her eyes like a sunflower would look at the sun. 

“Yeah, I guess? We’re kind of slowly turning into a bookshop as well. I mean, I’m trying to convince everyone else still but it seems to be working, I think”, she giggled, now cutting a piece of bread and placing it in a plate on the table, besides his latte (a latte, Lucy would be so proud).

“So, an English major then?”, Ben chuckled, his smile growing impossibly larger when it made her laugh, raising her hands in surrender.

“Would you like to take one? The books in the box. Some of them are quite old but they’re incredible, I promise. Can’t go wrong with a book”.

Ben would have bought the whole box, honestly, but he chose two in the end: the one that caught his eye first and another, a lot heavier, that he noticed made her eyes sparkle so brightly that he knew he was onto something (and someone) very special. He had never met someone so breath-taking and astounding (and that was saying something considering his line of work or whatever); someone that seemed to hide a bit under the shadows and yet beamed light without even realizing it.

A latte had never tasted as sweet as when [Y/N] told him her name, and offered another piece of banana bread.

*

Safe to say, Ben started spending a lot more money on coffee and books after that, and he wasn’t very subtle if the looks that Mia, [Y/N]’s co-worker, and even Lily, the cat that made the shop her very own castle, gave him had anything to say in the matter. But he just couldn’t help himself. The first three weeks, when he was still in London, he stopped by as much as he could (basically every day she told him she would be there?) while trying his best to not come off as a creep; absolutely fascinated by the way she talked, sometimes stumbling on her feet when Lily walked between them and demanded to be pet immediately. And just like that, he caught himself being jealous of a cat and started reading so many books, sometimes well into the night, that he had to start using his prescription glasses a lot more frequently; only to feel like he could burst when he stopped by the shop the next morning and [Y/N] brightened up upon seeing him, knowing that they were possibly going to spend hours talking about his latest read and basically everything and anything that crossed their minds, all while the coffee brewed and Lily made herself a bed on their laps.

But he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask her out just yet. Not even when he had to leave for filming during a couple weeks and his list of books had to wait a little. But then again, how do you tell someone that they’re pretty much the only thing you can think about?

*

“He’s so obvious about it, you know”, Mia said, putting all the dirty cups and spoons on the dishwasher, completely exhausted after having to deal with all those people, using her best costumer voice, during rush hour.

“Who are you talking about now?”, [Y/N] asked, having just arrived and trying to eat lunch (a chicken sandwich with lettuce, very fancy, gourmet level and all that) as fast as she could so they could go over the inventory again.

“Ben, of course. He likes you a lot”.

Of course. As if there wasn’t any doubt, as if it was so incredibly obvious it should have it her like a brick in the face by now; as certain as the sky is blue and the grass is green.

“He does not, don’t be silly”, she replied. It was too good to be true after all, more like her deepest thoughts and longings but not so much like the truth, even if she wanted to believe it more than anything.

“Uh-uh, but he does though! He really does! I mean. I told you about yesterday. He’s been back in London for like, what, a day? And the first thing he did was come here. He reeked of airport, [Y/N]. When I told him you weren’t here because someone-”, Mia continued, pointing at Lily, currently purring on [Y/N]’s lap and trying to shove her tail under her nose, “just had to be a huge cockblock and go to the vet- Anyways. He looked so sad I thought he-”

“She needs routine check-ups, Mia!”, [Y/N] interrupted, “You know that. Don’t you, Lily darling?”. The cat in question continued to purr, glaring at Mia with a surprisingly menacing look.

“You’re deflecting. This little beast here could have waited just one more day and you know it! The only reason you didn’t let me take her in the first place is that you’re scared of what could happen because you know that lover boy is so crazy about-”

“Hi there! A hello would be nice, I think”. The door made a loud squeaky sound and let Ben in, his hair looking wet and looking way longer than the last time [Y/N] saw him, holding a bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, looking like he was trembling a bit even though it was surprisingly sunny outside.

“And we’re taking our break now!”, Mia exclaimed, clapping in excitement and taking Lily from [Y/N]’s lap and into her own arms, much to the cat’s dismay, before rapidly walking into the back room.

She runs to hug him before she could even think about it, feeling truly warm and at home for the first time in weeks; the water droplets falling from his curls and into her neck.

“I-brought you something”, Ben said, hiding his face under her jaw for a second and then signalling to the presents still hanging uncomfortably in his hands, “Or well, two- various things, actually. I remember- you told me once, that morning that it was pouring outside, remember? I mean- it’s London, of course you do, it rains here all the time. But. That time when Lily was still outside, and it was raining so much you were scared she wasn’t going to come back? And she did, obviously, the little bugger. But- the point is that you told me you named her. And that you chose Lily because you couldn’t come up with anything else and you love lilies, right? Remember that?”. He left the flowers on the table, the bouquet looking fresh and just perfect by the box of wrapped books kept there. “So yeah, I got you these ones? They’re all the colours they had at the flower shop; I think. Anyways. I- that’s not my favourite part, actually. Just- look”

The bag, of course, was full of books; so old that their covers were almost crumbling and the pages, sewed together at some point, so delicate that just a rough touch could break them. “I- the old lady selling them was very nice. They’re really old, holy fuck, but listen. I know they’re some of your favourites. See, there’s a Madame Bovary somewhere in there and I know you love The Little Prince, so I found this french version… I guess, what I’m trying to say is that- I like you a lot, obviously, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out, maybe? But I got to be honest first, I-I don’t really like lattes that much?”

“These- these are some of the first editions, Ben”, he nodded, biting his lip in order to stop his smirk from growing when he noticed her getting closer and closer, her cheeks impossibly red by now, until their noses were almost touching, “ And I prefer tea, by the way”.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Errands | Gunner Gomez

Requested? Yes! I hope you like it @tribbles-have-feelings-too 

Warnings? Just fluffy Gunner 

Word Count: 1,131 (it’s a bit short I’m sorry!) 

“Babe?” Gunner asks coming out of your shared room into the living room. You were laying on the couch, limbs sprawled out as Shipping Wars plays in the background. Gunner giggles lightly at your relaxed state and sits down on the edge of the couch before laying back on you.

“Gunner!” You squeal out while trying to move from underneath him. He laughs harder at your attempts to push him off before finally relenting and sitting up. You follow suit and he pulls you into his arms and places a light kiss on your head.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Well I am now.” You joke before he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your lips.

You and Gunner had planned for this to be a vlog free day so you could get some stuff done together. You desperately needed to get groceries, go to the bank, buy new shoes, and do a bunch of other adult stuff you had neglected over the week. While normally you would vlog the whole trips, you decided to instead bring your boyfriend Gunner with you to make a date out of it.

After grabbing your keys and your wallet, the two of you head out in your SUV. Your first stop was starbucks so you could grab some coffee while Gunner grabbed a tea. You head through the drive through so it’s a bit faster and you can head to the first store of the day, Target.

“I still don’t understand how you drink all of that coffee.” Gunner says as you sip from your drink at a red light.

“I need it to function.”

“That’s not healthy.” He points out.

“Neither is your oreo obsession.” You respond and he places a hand over his heart in fake hurt. You lean over and kiss his cheek making the smile reappear on his face.

Once you get to Target, you grab a cart and start weaving your way through the aisles, your mental checklist failing in your head. Gunner and you both had terrible short term memory causing the two of you to always get distracted while shopping and often leave without whatever you needed most when walking in.

“Uhhh do you remember what we were supposed to get?” You ask Gunner while stopping in the middle of the aisle.

“Not in the slightest.” He responds and you can’t help but smile. You and Gunner were both so much alike it was a tiny bit scary. But it was also the reason the two of you worked so well together. You both always tried to balance out the other and be the best versions of yourselves together.

As the two of you walk and throw things into the cart, Gunner keeps an arm around your waist the entire time. You loved that he always had to be near you when you were together. Whether it was hand holding or an arm around your waist, you loved how much he craved to be near you.

After finishing up at target, you make a quick stop at the bank and then head straight to the grocery store. You end up hitting a bit of traffic and while you sit there, you and Gunner start blasting Taylor Swift. You both serenade each other while waiting for the roads to clear up.

You were beyond blessed to have Gunner in your life. He came at a time where you were lost and weren’t sure of anything. Being new to LA and living there all alone was extremely rough. You found yourself stuck in a soul sucking routine until you met Gunner. Your sunshine.

He lifted you straight of of your funk and brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in a while. You thanked God everyday for bringing you Gunner. Almost two years later and you couldn’t help think how everyday you woke up lucky.

“I love you.” Gunner sighs out once you finish singing and you’ve begun to drive again. Your heart flutters and it feels like the first time he told you that all over again.

“I love you too.” His face lights up like it always does when you say that. You were so lucky to have each other.

It takes another five minutes to get to Whole Foods before the two of you grab a cart and head inside. This time you had an actual list of stuff to get but Gunner continues to sidetrack you and ask for other things.

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks excitedly.

You sigh and give him a look. “Babe your allergic.”

“There’s dairy free though.” When you don’t say anything Gunner gives you big puppy dog eyes and you sigh in defeat. “Thank you!”

He grabs two pints, dairy free for him and cookie dough for you. He throws them into the cart and leans over to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Gunner was a dork but he’d always be your dork. And the love of your life.

After taking a bit too long to finish shopping, you head to the front and check out your stuff. While the cashier rings you out, Gunner wraps both arms around your waist and places a head on your shoulder. He rocks the two of you back and forth and you’re tempted to close your eyes at the feeling but pause when you realize you’re in public.

“I love you.” He whispers and places a kiss on the shell of your ear.

“You two are so cute.” The cashier compliments and Gunner smiles proudly while your face runs red. After paying and loading the groceries into your car you’re finally headed home. You were pretty exhausted from the day and you were excited to go home and do nothing for the rest of the day with the love of you life.

“Do you wanna start dinner while I get the groceries?” Gunner asks as you park. You nod your head before walking inside and starting to pull out ingredients and making dinner. Gunner comes back and forth into the house twice before finally getting all of the groceries into the house.

Just as you’re finished cooking, Gunner puts away the last bag of groceries. You both grab your plates and bring it to the living room. He places a kiss on the top of your head as you sit down and eat your food.

These were your favorite types of nights. The ones where you could sit and doing nothing with the love of your life. It was the best feeling in the entire world and so simple that you wanted nothing more in your life.

“I love you a lot ya know that?” Gunner asks and you smile and lean into him.

“I love you too.”

[hurtcomfortetc]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write Diego with passing out from pain? With Allison as a Good Big Sister Caretaker? Thank you!

Great prompt, thanks for the ask! Here’s what I came up with! (Hope this is at least kinda what you were looking for.)

Diego Hargreeves is sixteen years old and he’s already starting to find kidnappings to be boring. It’s not really as callous as it sounds, it’s just that he’s already been part of the rescue team for six super-rich heirs and heiresses taken for ransom by this point. The story goes pretty much the same each time.

First, Reginald Hargreeves gets the call from the parents. The level of composure they have changes a little bit, but not much. The mother is usually wailing and the father is usually shouting even though he seems to think he’s talking normally. The ransom amount changes, but that hardly matters. If the parents were able to pay it off then they wouldn’t be knocking on the Umbrella Academy’s door, now would they?

Next, the mission alert lights go off. The matching uniforms come on, and they all line themselves up in their father’s office to be briefed on the situation. Depending on whether or not someone useful has been killed, sometimes their father makes Klaus stay back to conjure up some intel, but that doesn’t change Diego’s day at all. They all wait in the car while that happens. Sometimes they wait in the jet, if the rich family happens to be far away.

Finally, they hit the road and kick some ass. It’s not as easy without Five around, honestly, but they have a choreographed routine down for most situations. They always manage to beat up the bad guys, save the kid, and walk out unscathed.

This particular ransom mission happens to be unlucky number seven, though. Diego would never have guessed based off of how average a mission it was.

The parents? Rich German diplomats.

The kid? Seven year old Sofia.

The ransom? 2 million euros, or 2,265,198.00 US dollars.

The kidnappers’ hideout? A remote, asbestos-ridden factory by the coast.

Pretty basic stuff. So basic that their father had deems them old enough to take care of business without his accompaniment. Where the old man went while they were gallivanting around the world, Diego had no idea and probably didn’t care to. What he did care about, however, was how Luther always decided to play leader the second they were left to their own devices.

“Alright, everyone. Listen up,” commands Number One.

Diego stifles an eye roll. No one had been talking.

“Remember the plan, just like we practiced. Two, Six, and I will go in first and take everyone out while Four and Three go and grab…uhhh….”

“Sarah?” Allison guesses.

“I think it was more like Sofie,” Diego provides.

“It was Sofia,” Ben answers, actually knowing the answer.

“…anyway, does anyone have any questions?”

“Yeah, why are you still talking?” Diego shoots back, opening the car door. “We know all of this.”

Allison gives him a withering look that he’s well-acquainted with, but she follows him out of the car and into the cold, windy night air which means that she agrees with him on some level. It’s a Friday night and they all somewhat hope to get this over with and be back home in time to enjoy some of the weekend.

Quietly, he, Luther, and Ben creep towards the front gate and slip up to the front door. It’s locked, of course, but after giving a quick nod to his brothers, Luther slams a shoulder into the firm metal until it gave way as though made of styrofoam rather than iron.

Luther’s particular abilities never did lend themselves to subtlety, so it takes about two seconds for a fight to break out.

Diego doesn’t know enough German to tell exactly what the men are saying, and all German sounds angry anyway. He does understand what the sound of a gun being cocked means, though, and he dives out of the way just in time to feel a bullet wiz by his ear.

He instinctively grabs three knives and blindly hurls them towards the sound of the gunshots. The firing ceases with three satisfying grunts from the gunmen. Turning over his shoulder, Diego tries to locate Ben and Luther in the poorly-lit hallway, but before he has a chance, a brawny arm grabs him from behind.

Diego works out every day and eats raw eggs like they’re tic tacs, but he’s also only sixteen and 5’6”. This man feels to be twice Diego’s size and a full foot taller, judging on how Diego’s most vicious blows barely seem to faze him. Diego can’t see Ben, which means he’s probably gone off to find Sophia, but Luther is still within his sight. He has a man in a headlock and doesn’t appear to notice Diego at all.

Diego considers calling out to Luther, but decides to give himself a bit more of a chance to fend for himself. He can’t quite reach for a knife, but he’s not above playing dirty. Without thinking, Diego sinks his teeth into his attacker’s hairy forearm.

The man screeches and nearly lets go, but he’s tenacious, unfortunately. Before Diego has the chance to slip away, the man slams his heavy work boot into the back of Diego’s leg and steps down with his full body weight.

Diego hears a vague crunch before he slams onto the floor, dazed. He has just enough time before the pain settles in to grip a knife in his white-knuckled fist. His aim is just a tad bit off, but the knife still wedges between the attacker’s eyes. He goes down with a resounding thud.

And with that, the adrenaline wears off and Diego is left lying next to a dying German man while nursing a leg that’s definitely broken. Tears stream down his face, and he quickly wipes them away when he sees Luther coming towards him with Allison and Klaus in tow.

“Klaus, go find Ben, he’s probably with Sophia. Allison, can you help me with Diego?” Luther half orders, half asks.

“Don’t need your help,” Diego says through gritted teeth. “I’m okay.”

“Diego…that looks really bad,” Allison points to his crumpled appendage.

“Let’s get you back to the car,” Luther says, grabbing at Diego’s arm.

Diego rolls his shoulder out of reach. The last thing he wants is to be manhandled by his brother, and he can hear more angry German yelling down the hall. They don’t have time for this.

“I said it’s fine, let’s just finish this,” Diego retorts. Deep down, he knows that fighting back against being benched is a bad plan, but he shuts down the rational part of his brain in exchange for the part of himself that just wants the endorphins that come along with completing a mission. He pulls himself up to a his knees and goes to take a step towards the commotion, but the second he puts weight on his bad leg he’s consumed with pain. Black spots darken his vision.

“Oh, man, he’s gonna…” he hears Allison begin, but he doesn’t stay conscious long enough for the end of the sentence.

Diego comes to violently when a sharp pain shoots up his entire thigh. Vision swimming, he raises his head to see Allison leaning over him and tightening a thick piece of fabric around his broken leg.

“Sorry about that,” she mutters towards his kneecap. She doesn’t know he’s conscious.

“What the hell are we still doing in this hole?” Diego asks. He immediately regrets it. Speaking causes a wave of intense nausea that has him swallowing compulsively. Allison looks at him with her brow furrowed.

“Dad was wrong. There are way more of these guys than usual.” Diego appreciates her open frustration. Of course Dad wouldn’t find giving them a clear number on the bad guy tally to be particularly relevant. Of fucking course.

“Where are the others?” Diego asks, eyes still shut against the pain.

“Holding them off.”

“What are you still doing here, then? They need help.” He opens his eyes, wanting to give Allison the impression that he isn’t totally out of commission, even if he just fainted like a pansy.  

Allison fixes him with her special look that efficiently conveys both that he is remarkably dim and that she has much better things to do than put up with it.

“Can you not be a total blockhead for one second? I’m not leaving you here like this.” Diego feels something warm and comforting in his sternum when she says that, but quickly squashes that down. He eases himself onto his elbows, attempting to move in such a way that nothing below his hips moves at all. It isn’t fully successful, and he groans quietly as pain courses up his leg. Allison grips his bicep to steady him.

“See that guy right there?” He nods to the fallen German man and Allison tracks it instantly. She rises up and pulls the knife out of his giant forehead with a sickening wet crunch. She wipes it twice on her pant leg and places it in Diego’s palm. He smiles tightly, but then the door to the room slams open.

Behind Allison’s hair, Diego can see two more goons barrelling at them. Diego instinctively makes a move to get up, but the act alone gives him tunnel vision.

Allison, on the other hand, wastes no time in delivering an absolutely lethal roundhouse kick to the first man’s temple. He falls like a tree. The other man pauses for a brief moment, stunned by the vision of his huge co-henchman getting wrecked by tiny teenage girl. Allison capitalizes on his hesitation and kicks him hard in the groin. The man doubles over, wheezing pathetically.

While Allison turns to make sure Diego is still grounded, Diego sees the man recover enough to stand at his full height and pull a thick arm back for a counter attack.

His arm makes it about thirty degrees before he has a knife embedded into the soft part of his neck.

Choking, he starts a graceless fall to the ground, and Allison has to maneuver a swift sidestep to avoid being crushed by her felled opponent.

“Thanks,” she says, breathless.

“You, too,” Diego breathes. He sinks back onto the slimy floor.

The door bangs open again, and they both whip around.

But this time, it’s Luther. He is followed closely by Ben and Klaus, who are whispering gently to a wide eyed girl who must be Sophia.

“There you are, Allison! I told you to follow me, what happened?” Luther demands. Diego rolls his eyes so violently he thinks he might sprain an eye muscle.

“Who cares, Luther? Let’s just get out of here,” Allison replies. “Lend me a hand?”

Luther, thankfully, is as impervious as ever to her tone. He diligently strides over to help Allison lift Diego’s arms over each of their shoulders. And just like that, the team hobbles off into the sunset.

[sixohsixoheightfourtwo]

seriously how is this article about pippa grange the psychologist for the england nt the most healing mental health thing i have read in forever??? 

She wrote in 2013 that being a woman in a male team environment “is a constant navigation, for everyone. I have no interest in being one of the lads and I don’t quite fit in the ‘nurturing mother figure’ category in terms of the leadership work I do. I would be professionally ineffective if I remained in the background, psychologically safe with minimal voice, and I am not here to be the centre of attention as some form of entertainment. I don’t want to be completely separate because that would make me inaccessible and probably be a lonely place to operate from.”

so first - i really feel this is strong advice for any female person who’s working in a mostly male environment! don’t be a ‘mother’, don’t be ‘safe’, don’t be there for some sort of entertainment; there are a number of traps you can fall into as a female person in work and she’s sharply delineated a bunch of them

getting the players to sit down together in small groups to share their life experiences and anxieties, and to reveal intimate truths about their character and what drives them. The point, Southgate has said, is to build trust, “making them closer, with a better understanding of each other”.

getting them to open up!!! talk to each other! bond! õnly cønnect. is this important?? well, a) some of the older england players have said that in the past, entrenched club rivalries were an obstacle for them (steven gerrard: “i think the bond and the spirit and the closeness has to improve”), b) access to the psychologist for the 2014 WC 

. . .was offered to the players only if they felt they needed it – and not many would have admitted to wanting help.

and uhhh all of this - trust, preparation, routine, learning continually

Michael Caulfield says Southgate, with whom he worked at Middlesbrough, has a leadership style “built on incredible levels of trust between him and his players and staff. He was determined to convince the team there was nothing to fear from playing in the World Cup for England, whereas in the past people were nervous or fearful. He was determined to change that mindset from one of fear to one of adventure.”

“The skill is in your application to a task because that’s the bit you’re in control of . . . if you’re feeling fear you’re already mentally rehearsing it in a negative way. [In mental rehearsal] you prime your brain to play it how you would like to be. You might want to be confident, speak clearly. It’s not just positive thinking.”

“If you watch Harry Kane, if he’s been interrupted [before taking a penalty], he starts again – he picks the ball up and puts it down on the spot and goes through his whole routine again, and that’s something I’ve never seen England players do before. They usually want to get it over with as quickly as possible, but fear causes us to do things that are unhelpful.” Routines, says Barton, help to keep us in the moment, focused and in the right frame of mind.

Southgate : “I have learned from things that have gone wrong and had to pick myself up … Because of those failures, I feel it gives you the freedom of being able to say, ‘How might we be the best possible team?’ and not be afraid of what goes wrong – because whatever goes wrong we can deal with, as I have lived through it.”

Grange has written: “I’d like to turn this unhealthy preoccupation with success on its head and put it on the record that I think failure is really useful. For without failure we cannot progress longer, higher or faster. It’s a funny paradox – our successes are achieved through trying, and trying most often ends in failure. Every day in our general lives and our sporting lives we will win some and lose some; it’s just part of the way life should be . . . the important lesson is to learn from our failures, reassess, rethink, move forward (sometimes in a different direction) and keep those dreams and goals alive.”

like . . . this completely relives a bunch of conversations i had with my therapist c. 2014-2015 when i was clawing my way through depression. ultimate point though is that 

The era of hard-talking, tyrannical managers is over – both on and off the pitch. “Football, which I love and work in, is really bad at talking,” says Caulfield. “It does instructing and telling off but it doesn’t do talking and listening and empathy that well. . . Southgate, he says, realised early in his coaching career that instilling fear wasn’t going to work. “We all need a telling-off now and then – and he’s good at that, by the way –

he’s good at that by the way 

— but you’ll get far more from putting your faith in people than you will anything else. People had this lazy opinion that he’s too ‘nice’ and they see kindness as weakness, but it’s the most unbelievable strength if you use it in the right way.”

love’s got the world in motion tbh 

[definitelynotaminion]

Story starter meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

I was tagged by @blackkatmagic​

Uhhh okay you guys I’m going to use some WIPs too because. Otherwise I won’t have enough stories I actually /like/.

1. (untitled, current WIP, Set in the “I can’t believe you dropped incubus!Obito in a magic floating orgy house, Tim” universe)

Madara lives in a house of monsters, mages and demons. Most of the time he doesn’t mind.

2. Made of breath and skin (also a WIP, for the Secret Ship twin fic Race with @blackkatmagic)

There are certain things that make a man fear for his life. Hurricanes, deep space, the depths of the sea, the concept of not existing, a desperate man with a sharp knife--

Senju Tobirama, making an interested noise from across the breakfast table, just after you’ve swept into the kitchen and grabbed the first cup of coffee you saw, even if it was in your older brother’s hand at the time.

Ignoring Madara’s noise of betrayal, Izuna rounds on Tobirama with wide eyes, empty mug clutched tight in his hand.

3. So softly it starts

Belle makes a deal with a devil.

She had summoned him, as politely as possible-- an invitation, rather than a demand, and hadn’t that been fun to cobble together out of illicit dark magic spell books-- and he had appeared, more curious than angry.

4. what it’s like to be alive

It isn’t the first time. It isn’t even the thirty-first time, in the month that followed the final battle. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom at the edges of the river, the wind is blowing sweet, and the field where Sasuke grows his fucks is barren, barren, barren because--

Naruto, nosing into his neck like a dying man, inhaling the scent of him, crowding him into the wall of their kitchen without regard for propriety or personal space.

5.  everything my spirit longs to have fulfilled

Sakura’s eyes flew open in shock, jaw dropping, lips forming a little ‘o’ in surprise.

“Oh,” She said, wondrous, riding it out.

Tenten laughed, bold and breathless, head thrown back and brazen in her pleasure. Her hands tightened on Sakura’s hips as she thrust up, and up, meeting every downward cant.

The hold was firm, and hot, and Sakura herself was practically boiling, chest heaving with exertion as the aftershocks danced down what felt like every nerve ending she had.

6.  We like things related to our survival

Naruto and Kurama are two spirits in one body, and if one of them has inhabited the flesh longer it’s not by much . Honestly, the skin-prison spent months gestating with Kurama curled protectively around it and Naruto’s spirit only entered it towards the end, anyway.

For a brief, screaming half-hour, the soul that is Naruto wore his body alone, cold-wrong-lonely- wrong .

Then Kurama was nestled safe right next to his heart again, their essences mingling but remaining disjoint, autonomous.

7.  A thrill of joy prophetic

Touka can pinpoint the exact moment her world shatters.

It just... happens. Without warning, without word, as she’s fuming at her stupid, green clan head for mourning an enemy and, more to the point, blaming her favorite cousin for defending his life.

She’s not even aware of it, is the thing. Senju fall like leaves in this war, but by some miracle none of Touka’s precious people have died by her side. Her parents, of course, when she was too young to remember, and besides that countless aunts and uncles and cousins and kin, but--

None of hers since she was old enough to fight beside them, old enough to let her chakra cloak her in anger and take outlet for her rage at the tides of their unstoppable foes on the battlefield.

She can pinpoint the exact moment her entire world shatters, and it is a star winking out instead of going supernova.

8.  The Ecological Fallacy

After much screaming, confusion, a fair bit of yelling and several objects being thrown, Belle sat red-faced on her sofa.

She fixed tea with sure motions and she at least would traverse this with proper decorum and the dignity behooving a wizard of her station.

Across from her, wrapped with an air of confusion and amusement in the couch’s afghan and nothing else, the long-haired otherbeing she’d somehow summoned raised an eyebrow.

9.  Silver tigers in the moonlight, running

Madara’s breath fans out, hot and visible. He breathes in frigid air and pushes it slowly out of his nose. Like smoke, it curls up. Like he’s a dragon, almost; irritable and with fire curled ready in his gut. Or his lungs?

He certainly inhales enough smoke.

He is, Tobirama notes, mythical enough to qualify. Magical enough. In his head, he tries for scathing or dry and fails. Even the thought’s tone shifts to faintly reverent.

He can never, ever, compliment Madara aloud. Tobirama chews his lip, chapped from the cold, and leans his head back with a sigh. It touches metal cold enough to feel through his hair. It spills out white against the grey door of the crappy car Touka had pawned off on him, all razor smiles and sharp insistence.

10.  These Hues Yet Hard to Hold

Kurama looks ridiculous with a small patch of bright orange fur. It clashes with his crimson pelt instead of blending in, stands out proudly, draws the eye. His own fist dyed Naruto’s red the day they became allies in full.

Sasuke’s lips are obnoxiously, permanently, vividly orange. The color is so opaque that no flesh is visible beneath it.

11.  An Evening Well-Spent

“I can’t imagine being forced to stay at Private Drive,” Harry offered, looking at the heavy furnishings and high, cobwebbed ceilings in a new light.

Sirius looked a heartbeat away from doing some follow up questions on that little nugget. Harry intervened quickly.

His wand flicked to his hand with a thought and he grinned, ruby glinting from the ring on his finger. After all, it was just the two of them.

“I,” He declared, twirling the wand as soon as he was sure he had his godfather’s full attention, “am a legal adult. You know what legal adults can do?”

Sirius’ eyes followed the motion curiously.

“Magic?”

“ Magic .”

12.  Battle Hymn of Trees

In Team 7’s—the last Team 7’s, the best Team 7’s, her Team 7’s—generation, they figure it out.

13.  Heir of Fire

For as long as he can remember, Harry Potter has dreamed.

Not the same dream, over and over again, but the same lifetimes. He grows up and a blonde haired child grows parallel to him, always running, always smiling.

The city-- village-- is always the same. It’s beautiful and breathtaking. Trees surround it and the buildings aren’t quite tall enough to match. It’s full of familiar faces, still as small as he is, but he sees them and thinks: precious.

14.  Trial by Fire

Harry Potter planned to spend the hour’s drive back to Little Whinging trying not to think of anything. His relatives had fallen into their usual routine of pretending he didn’t exist. They ignored him and conversed amongst themselves as though the trip to London had nothing to do with him.

15.  eudipleural

The Elric brothers never needed the drift.

It’s a fact, for all that it’s consistently looked over in light of their ever growing and ever more incredible list of achievements.

One alchemist alone cannot pilot a Jaeger.

Two alchemists need to transmute together; they need the drift for that. They need the drift for that.

Fin! Wow, that’s a lot of fics. I’m kind of impressed with myself. Uh, I don’t really see a pattern. Anyone else? I usually start out describing scenery or situations and not dialogue.

I guess I kind of like describing a scene and then explaining it. Like, “Belle summons a demon” and then paragraphs on how/why. Fun, though!

I’m going to tag @fangirlandiknowit101, @lullabyknell, @thebibliosphere, @redhothollyberries if she hasn’t done it for Kat first, and any other of my writer friends who want to tap this! 

[ravenvsfox]

I know you have already done a lot of the ship posts (and they are all phenomenal and accurate af) but can you pretty please do Jesper and Wylan from six of crows/crooked kingdom? Xoxo

I’m SO sorry this took so long, you’re such an absolute sweetheart and also christ I’ve never been called an inspiration before holy.. god

also heck i love wesper this is a treat

SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU… 

who is more likely to hurt the other?

don’t.. do this

they’re genuinely so good neither of them would ever TRY to hurt the other, and they’re both so tender and apologetic if they ever do. I think I’m gonna have to say jesper though just because. he’s still a little stirred by his addiction (to trouble! to bringing two guns to a gun fight! to gambling! to love!) and he’s got some jealousy and sensitivity baked into him, bless him. I feel like he’d run a risk and break Wy’s heart by accident, a little bit

who is emotionally stronger?

a genuine toughie bc they’ve both survived and persevered so MUCH. I think in terms of immediate reactionary instincts, Jes is better at letting bad vibes roll right off of him. He’s made of smiles. He’s trouble and a good time rolled into a waistcoat. If you insult him he only gets stronger. Wy was raised in silk and champagne but he was raised BY an absolute monster so. he’s a very bruised peach. criticism pierces him v easily. Though in a more fundamental way, wylan has fashioned his past trauma into a shield. by the end of ck he’s building himself new emotional strength with his bare hands

who is physically stronger?

ohhh man. They’re both noodle boys. Wylan is too smart for exercise. Jesper does his fighting at a 20 metre distance from his target. Jesper is bigger than wylan but most of his size is gangly and delightful and awkward. I think jes could probably still beat wylan in a pinch, but I’m more caught up in how funny it would be to see them try to fight it out

who is more likely to break a bone? 

man I’m tempted to say jesper just bc he seems like he would be...... brittle. I think he gets into scrapes a lot. I think wylan starts to get into p frequent scrapes by nature of being the sixth crow. I think the both of them are so busy worrying about each other’s fights that they neglect their own and trip off a building or smth

who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

I think wylan can be a nasty piece of work when he’s pissed enough. like he may be a silk eared puppy but he’ll chew your shoes and track mud around if you forget to feed him. jesper doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body man, I think he’s a sarcasm queen and a joker but he’s definitely not mean

who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? 

I think jesper’s constantly assuming he did something wrong and he sits down with wylan 100% serious like ‘babe.. im so, so sorry. I never wanted to be the sort of person who made you look sad like that, we’re past that, I truly made a promise--’ and wy would be like ‘what no I was sad bc a screw on my flute is loose and I couldn’t practice today’. but also yeah if it’s a serious fight they make up in a rush, and they laugh at themselves, and they use their energy for something better

who treats who’s wounds more often? 

here’s the thing about the crows man, they’re always sustaining minor injuries as a team and it’s a win if they live, right? All I can picture is the roar of activity when they pull off a job and they come back limping and bleeding and swearing and crowing w joy, and jes and wy take their seats opposite each other and clean wounds, kiss foreheads, smooth back sweaty curls, squeeze hands, make promises. the routine, u kno

who is in constant need of comfort? 

uhhh both of them (it’s always both my guy jot that down). Wylan has 16 years of shitty imposed self loathing to unlearn, and traumatic experiences all over him. jes has lost a lot (including his mom) and he struggles with addiction so like. yeah they both need comfort. they both wake up w the phantom feeling of a mother’s arms around their shoulders. they’ve both seen the very worst of humanity. They’re just two nervy, high stress kids trying to figure things out

who gets more jealous? 

lmao WYLAN VAN ECK did y’all read his scenes in crooked kingdom that boy is NOT SHARING. he glared real holes in kuwei’s head guys. jesper tbh is a terrible flirt and a HANDFUL and wylan is happy. to have his hands full. no one else.

who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 

mmm nahhh

who will propose? 

u bet ur ASS it’ll be jesper. Imagine wylan’s blushing face...... he’d do it for that alone. tbh there’s probably a point in their relationship where jesper’s outrageous flirting isn’t enough to get that pretty blush from wylan like he’ll roll his eyes and shove jes in the shoulder and w/e but they have to have increasingly ridiculous conversations about kinks or w/e until that blush comes out. jesper’s like ‘dang. guess I gotta step up the romance. what’s the most romantic thing? marriage? marrying wylan? son absolutely where do i sign’

who has the most difficult parents?

lmao lm a o lmaooo Lmao LMAO lmao

who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

I feel like depending on the social climate of Ketterdam, hand holding might not be on the table?? especially for two criminals associated w the bastard of the barrel like idk man I can’t picture it. they don’t want to draw attention to themselves (well i mean. jes wants to. but they can’t). I think they’re all about sly glances and the most obvious smirks you’ve ever seen, and brushing shoulders!! brushing shoulders are their makeouts

who comes up for the other all the time? 

they’re always together man bf’s that blow shit up together and live together stay together so like they rarely have the opportunity to talk about each other. howEVER jesper probably mentions his boyfriend in the middle of a hand of poker w an inappropriate smile or gushes to w/e prisoner he’s breaking out of jail or makes Kaz’s day weird by trying to confide in him

who hogs the blankets? 

wylan is exhausted w luxury and jesper is a child who wants to be held so he rolls over and then over again so that wy always wakes up to a lapful of boyfriend and a roll of blankets and he has to wait for jesper’s heavy sleeper ass to arise so he can get up to pee 

who gets more sad? 

booooth -- jesper is understated sad with a side of unnerving frowns, wylan is a wobbling mouth and clenched fists. Sometimes they stay in the Wylan Van mansion and lock the doors so the maids can’t come in, and they bring the lavish decorative pillows into a heap on the carpet and feed each other sweets and rub each others backs and laugh and laugh the darkness away. wylan sketches. jesper poses. there’s scheming & kaz impressions. jesper is a storyteller and he imagines out loud what nina or inej are up to at that very minute, controlling gravity and hearts and the sea and their lives 

who is better at cheering the other up? 

see above ^^ they both go pro at the comfort olympics. Jesper is that little bit better though. He’s a sweetheart with all the right words in his pockets. He knows how to chop wylan’s dad down like the overgrown dead tree that he is. he knows how to flirt a smile onto wy’s face. he maybe lacks delicacy sometimes, but he’s so fun and wholehearted and warm that he can’t really go wrong

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

this is canon y’all, jesper is a lecherous bastard and wylan is equal parts disdain and delight. he absolutely will slap a boy

who is more streetwise?

god bless wylan but he knows a hell of a lot less about the streets than jes. He’s learning fast by the end of ck, but he’s still very sheltered in a lot of ways. Jesper has a few years under his belt, and he’s.. like tbh he’s a part of a gang so. He’s seen a lot. He’s participated in a lot. He has a pretty steep list of kills, same as every other survivor out there. He’s detached from the deaths but he’s been on the other side of a lot of bullets that have crumpled people up and thrown them in the trash. He knows his business, too. He knows Ketterdam. Well. Wy knows the half of it Kaz wants him to see.

who is more wise?

Wylan is utterly brilliant and Jesper is wholeheartedly here for it. What was that line again? ‘you’re cuter when you’re smart’? Wylan can think his way out of just about anything, the world belongs to him. jsyk

who’s the shyest? 

Wylan absolutely what a sweetie. I mean a lot of it stems from unfortunate self esteem issues and a history of being burnt but a lot of it is pure soul deep candy sweet embarrassment and not knowing what to do w his own cute face. He doesn’t know how to deal w people a lot of the time. he knows sheet music & formulas. he does not know how to look at a boy with beautiful lips all curled up at him and not pass out

who boasts about the other more? 

jesper is loudmouthed usually and he’s that much more loudmouthed when he’s in love, catch him talking to anyone who will listen about wy’s stupid face 

who sits on who’s lap? 

jesper would definitely try it, don’t even test him, he would fold all his crane limbs into wylan’s lap and say ‘hello peaches’ and wylan would have to slide both of them onto the floor to escape his embarrassment. on a good day, jes’ll scoop wylan into his lap and he’ll feel quiet, for a while

[lifeofaernthota]

Peach Sorbet (PG-13 Please Read The Warnings Ya’ll)

title from Girls With Slingshots

this is like pg-13 maybe a little R but there’s definitely vague references to silver’s dick so read at your own risk. uhhh warnings? kink play, begrudging acceptance of said kink play, and comedy so please don’t come in expecting to fap this time just hold off on that.

I finally got this thing edited and got @kurt-l-fahrenheit‘s approval.

also bless @silverlining-ffxiv for being the best husbando on earth and letting me vaguely humiliate our roes together. 

Evenings passed slowly in the comfort of the mismatched basement. This suited Silver well enough; a few moments without the world ending were rare these days it seemed. But there were still comfortable chairs, finely upholstered and sturdy enough for the large Roegadyn to relax upon, and piles of books to tear through at his leisure. It was a bit of the homey comforts he’d left behind in Thanalan when he began his adventure, some he wasn’t going to give up on so easily.

Of course, it also helped that Aernthota was there as well. Sprawled across the couch, her feet resting in Silver’s lap as she too enjoyed the moments of stillness.  They could always find time to linger in each other’s presence; usually with Silver busying himself with notes and thick tomes he’d snatched from somewhere while Aern devoured serials and transcriptions from wandering bards. As much as she complained about her perpetually low funds, Aern could always scrape together enough gil to snag a new book when the travellers came to town (though she had to believe that Silver had something to do with that since he never seemed to be as shocked as she was). For hours, the pair would sit in relative silence and enjoy their books and each other’s company; their only breaks were to eventually eat and then sleep.

But that evening felt… well, off.

Not in the traditional sense of panic and terror; those were things that they had both grown used to and were ready to jump into action over. Instead this was closer to tension, something that Silver noticed as he finally broke away from his own work. It prickled the back of his neck a bit and he glanced over to where Aern’s head rested against the arm of the large couch. Unusually, she hadn’t said much since they had both settled in… Her attention hadn’t shifted once from the thin book she’d picked up from the last trip out. There were no markings on the spine or the cover, only black leather embossed with a simple flourish. For all Silver knew, there were untold secret hidden on those pages… or something worth giving a look at himself.

“New? I don’t think I’ve seen you reading that one before.” His eyes lingered for a moment on her, caught the gentle bob of her head as she nodded wordlessly. But nothing more in response beyond a slight shift of her legs in his lap.

A few more seconds of silence fell, and Silver finally gave up on making more progress in his own reading. This newfound mystery was so much more interesting…

“Speechless huh? If it’s that good, I might just have to read it myself someti-”

He was cut off by a small squeak from the other side of the couch as Aern straightened up and finally looked up at her husband. “Ah! N-No need! It… I mean you know bards; they always just embellish. All fluff and no substance… Ahaha…”

And that’s when he knew that something was very seriously amiss. Aernthota was never the type to be so coy, especially not in private. Not to mention, she constantly encouraged him to indulge in her low brow fiction to “broaden his horizons.” She was definitely hiding something, but he knew Aern well enough to not press any further. She would crack sooner rather than later. Until then, Silver only had to wait for her to crumble. He gave her a nod before picking up his own book and returning back to his reading.

A few minutes later, almost as if he’d planned it himself, Silver heard the small thump of a book being closed. He kept his head down, smirk hidden by a thoughtful hand as Aern began to shift some on the couch. Finally she settled back, her head in his lap and her eyes shut. The hand to his mouth drifted down to her hair and began to stroke languidly. Whatever tension seemed to come from the book in question was quickly dissipating. “Finished already, dew drop?” His voice was soft and playful, hopefully enough to coax out whatever seemed to be bothering her.

Aern stay silent for a moment, humming listlessly as she enjoyed the affection. Eventually, she spoke up. “Mmm… Just curious. In my reading, lovely stuff really.”

An eye cracked open to look up at Silver’s face, and he shut the book he was no longer focused on. As soon as she was certain his full attention was upon her, she continued speaking. “It… Well it works on a theory on how if someone loses a sense… the others. Ah… The others kinda… kick it up a notch. Is that…. Well does that sound about right to you?”

“I… suppose. Though that seems a little heavy for a bard to be selling in some bar. If you’re interested in medical information, starlight, there is plenty to be discovered.”

Aern’s cheeks grew slightly red at this and she shook her head (gently as there were some very important things nearby that she wanted to keep in good shape). “It… It’s less medical and more… Well… Say you weren’t able to see? That would make you hear better and ah… make you feel more right?”

Well… This was going somewhere and Silver wasn’t entirely sure if he liked it. His hand paused against her head and he looked down into the eye looking back up at him. “Are you plannin’ on me going blind anytime soon? I am older than you, yes, but I’m still pretty far from the grave.”

“N-No! Just… ah… Nophica’s thighs how in the wor-just!” She sat up, careful to not smack anything as she leaned over to grab the small black book from the floor. With a small guilty smile, Aern pressed into Silver’s hands. He opened up to a page at random and began to read the tiny text.

And he too quickly found his face growing hot.

“Master Momomi, please be gentle. The cruelty of my Nuhn has left me so delicate there. Even the ministrations of my fellow Seeker females is almost too much to bear!” The miqo’te girl trembled as her new master approached her with a thin strip of linen held between his hands. Her eyes closed as he stood before her and the soft fabric settled over her eyes, blocking anything from sight.

“Come now L’fsor. For I am born and raised of Ul’dahan merchantry and am familiar with your people. Know that while it may be strange, you will feel nothing but pleasure by my hands.” Quickly, a strip of leather wrapped around her wrists as the Lalafellan noble began to kiss his newest prize.

Silver had to pause at that point, if only because his laughter kept his eyes from following along any further. Aern’s sound of displeasure was smothered in a giggle of her own when the sudden outburst hit the silence that had fallen around them. A few seconds of Silver’s untamed laughter quieted as he wiped his eyes and carefully held the book up to check the front cover for a possible source of such drivel.

“S-So… Do you often have fantasies of being a ravished Miqo’te maiden? Or can I blame a wandering minstrel for instilling such ideas in you?”

Aern responded by snatching the book out of his hands and turning away from him. For a brief moment, Silver actually wondered if there was a nerve he’d pressed a little too hard before her shoulders began to shake with silent laughter.

“Gods forbid, could you imagine me turnin’ into one of those types? No it’s… Well I’m not gonna make you read any more of that but it… Well.” Aern turned back around, her cheeks a little less red but her eyes still not fully meeting Silver’s. “It’s more just somethin’ to try. What’s the worst that could happen? I mean besides the terrible dirty talk but ah… What’s t’say being tied up and a little helpless wouldn’t be fun.”

“Er… Aernthota, not to say I’m not fascinated with the whole idea, but are you sure you really want to try this? You said it yourself, they tend to embellish this sort thing. what if you start to panic some when you can’t see? Or some kind of emergency crops up? I’d hate for y-”

Aern leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her husband’s nose, enough to make him trail off into silence for a few moments and allow her to speak up. “Oh but my dear sweet Sylb, there’s no way I’d be the one tied up.”

And before Silver could even force a distressed sound out, Aern stood and headed for the stairs.

And then there was silence on the topic for a few days. Given her initial embarrassment over the subject, Aern seemed to maintain her regular jovial attitude around the group. Silver did as well, though he was constantly on the lookout for any shifts in her demeanor. Every time she spoke to David or Popola, he watched carefully. Any giggles shared between her and A’onisya were treated with mild suspicion. If his wife was planning on tying him up like some parcel, he wouldn’t be caught unaware under any circumstances.

But days passed with the same normalcy as ever. The routine of gathering and hunting and being social kept them secure and eventually Silver assumed that, like most things, Aern had let the entire situation slip her mind.

Until the package arrived.

It was too large to fit inside the mailbox, so the helpful delivery moogle had placed it upon the steps for the first resident to retrieve when they returned home. Silver had almost tripped over it and brought it inside to Aern who was carefully brewing something on the stove.

“Those damned pombrains… Nearly killed myself over this. Were you expecting anything? It’s a bit hefty if you ask m-”

There was a small clink of glass against glass as Aernthota hastily sat down her half full vials and wiped her hands against the thick leather of her coat. “Ah! I was waitin’ for that! Let me!” She took the package from him with a small kiss to his cheek and rushed down the stairs. Silver, a bit dumbfounded, watched for a few moments before simply ensuring the heat had been turned off on her potion mix and pulling off his long casting gloves.

When she appeared again, Aern’s expression was impish. The package had been left behind as she stepped out into the room to greet her husband. “So my love… Ah… D’you have any plans for tomorrow? Specifically tomorrow evening. I know you’ve had a long day and I’d hate t’rush into somethin’ brand new but ah…”

“... Sunshine is this about that book?”

“I-I’m just sayin’ I’ve had a few things… prepared for th’whole thing an-”

“Oh gods be good I just assumed you’d lost your nerve over the whole thing. You hadn’t spoken about it in a few da-”

“Lost my nerve? With you involved? There’s no way, Sylb… I want to do this with you, love. Yer th’ one I want t’feel good a-and if y’really really don’t wanna try this, then I’d just appreciate ye sayin’ somethin’ a-”

As she felt her tongue growing looser and falling back into the thick Limsa accent she’d tried so hard to lose, Silver’s finger pressed to her lips. She faltered and grew silent, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek softly.

“Aernthota, we promised each other, before the Twelve and everyone else, to go wherever the other one traveled. That we would explore this whole world hand in hand.” A sigh punctuated his words but there was a smile that crept upon his face as he continued. “So as… hesitant… as I am about trying to recreate something you saw in a shoddy novel, I’m willing to… try.”

Joy blossomed across her face, and she brought the back of his hand up to her lips in silence. Silver couldn’t help but pull her in closer for a few soft kisses against what parts of her face he could reach amid playful giggles. Hopefully those would stifle the bubble of nerves that poked at him.

The following day had an air of excitement buzzing around the home. The pair made their usual rounds of gathering and housekeeping, all the while subtly hinting at plans to those most likely to call upon them that evening. (Which was received quite well by Niah’tan and A’onisya and elicited a few laughs and nudges from Renaud). Once they were certain the night would pass in relative silence, they finished up their daily duties. Late afternoon came, signaling the final sweep of Dravania for any minerals Silver may have needed to collect before heading home to settle in for the night. He flew with a sort of slow urgency, as if heading back to the Lavender Beds was both exciting and nerve wracking. He knew that he had agreed but…

“Sylb, is everything okay?” The ping in his linkpearl almost startled him off the back of his chocobo.

“Ah of course, starlight. Just one final check of the area and then straight back home to you. Are you… Preparing?”

“... Ah… I think. I was wondering if I should bathe before you get here but I think everything else is ready.”

“Oh? And have me miss a show? I’m certain that if you just wait for me to get back, we could share the tub.” Silver’s voice took on a cheeky tone, perhaps in an effort to persuade her to hold off on washing up so they could just relax together.

With a small squawk from Aern on the other side, the pearl went quiet. As much as he hoped, there was no dodging what she had planned for so carefully. No amount of mining would take away from that. And so Silver waited around for the sun to sink down beyond the horizon before concentrating on his home and carefully teleporting himself to his front step. The chilly Dravanian air shifted to the gentle breeze of the Lavender Beds, and he opened his eyes to see Aern leaning against the doorframe, wrapped up in one of Silver’s many robes. He approached her with a smile, carefully pulled her into his arms, and whispered low and rough into her ear. “Gods be good, if I could see you like this after every long day…”

Even with her gentle laugh, there was an edge of excitement in her voice as she fumbled for the doorknob behind her while still keeping a tight grip on the cloth around her shoulders. “Eat something… Wash up… And then…” She sighed as Silver kissed her clavicle, and pressed her way back into the cottage.

Silver looked up while stepping inside, careful to note that the helpers they employed around the home had been dismissed early. It sent a small jolt through his chest, his heartbeat picking up as he followed her downstairs. There were plates set up at the table, obviously cooked with a touch of assistance from somewhere since Aernthota could barely boil water without smoke. It wasn’t a perfect meal by any stretch of the imagination, but Silver could sit there and get through the slightly overcooked dodo and the strangely seasoned vegetables by keeping his focus on the next step.

This would be much easier if it was broken down into steps after all.

Their conversation was sparse, food and nerves keeping their mouths relatively busy. It was only when Aern stood and grabbed her plate did Silver find the words that had been lost. “Wash. I uh… I’m going.” And without waiting for so much as a nod, Silver bolted towards the door into their chamber. The comfort of the close quarters helped him center; pulling off his gear also gave him the chance to relish in the excitement of this new turn, for better or worse. It almost made him nostalgic for their first night together, that thrill of newness coupled with worry. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling, just one that he hadn’t been anticipating ever again.

And sinking down into the hot water with a groan, Silver allowed himself to drift away from the impending moment for a few long minutes of silence. The creak of Aern’s pacing upstairs seemed to die down after a bit, leaving nothing but the sound of Silver’s breathing, the soft crackle of the hearth, and the gentle drips from the faucet. The perfect storm of soothing made Silver’s eyes droop and the tension in his neck slowly ease. The day’s worry and hesitation melted away; hell he could almost feel a shudder of excitement at the prospect of his wife waiting for him on the other side creep down his thighs when...

“Sylb…” Silver started a touch as Aern’s voice came from the door. “When you’re finished up ah… Come out here?”

He grunted in response and stood, the crash of water breaking the peaceful silence. He wasn’t entirely sure he was finished with his bath, but the request was made and any further contemplation in the water was sure to be a bad decision. Grabbing a well worn cotton shirt and simple clean breeches was obvious; there was no point in risking the gear he had fought so hard for when something simple (and easy to remove) would suffice. This was a comfortable night together, a night the pair would have more pressing issues which would preoccupy them. It didn’t matter how they looked at the end of it all. But Silver paused at the closed door for a few seconds to smooth his beard and run his hands through his damp hair. He wasn’t hoping to look put together by any means, but felt right to fake his way into some semblance of “composed” before opening the door back out into their living space.

And he was so very grateful he did when he saw Aern standing there waiting. His old robe that had been around her had been discarded for something impossibly thin and lacy, something he was certain he’d spied upon an Au Ra woman lurking by a market board one evening, but in Aern’s carefully measured sizes. Enough to keep her decent but only just. He felt himself stare for a second, doing his best to discern what fabric it could possibly be made of that would hold the deep green color so well but still show the delicate tone of her stomach (as well as shamelessly oogle his wife’s body no longer under layers of boots and stiff robes) before stepping forward towards her. “Is this what came in that package? Because there was no need to hide this from me when we could have gotten plenty of use out of it already…”

Aern shook her head and beamed. It was clear that if nerves plagued her, they hadn’t worked their way to the surface yet. “S’not the only thing… But now’s not the time. Come over here an’ sit.” She pointed to one of their dining chairs, a terribly delicate sylphic thing that she swore had character. Silver followed the request with a curious smile.

Looking over to the table, several new things occupied their previous dinner space. A chunk of finely worked material, a thick set of leather wristguards connected by simple rings in the middle, and a small pot of something milky white sat there, their presence alone making Silver’s throat catch. “Deviating from the source text, eh? What would that Miqo’te maiden say if she saw your arsenal of new tools?” Hopefully humor would be enough for smooth sailing.

Aern offered another bright smile before simply grabbing the cuffs and stepping behind him. She was gentle but purposeful when she took his hands and placed them behind his back. The movement made Silver stiffen for a moment until the touch of fingers against his neck. A gentle pulse of something he’d grown to recognize as regenerative magic washed over him, and he couldn’t hold in the chuckle any longer.

“Oh hush you. Y’always seem to feel a bit better when I do that… Is… Is this position okay? Don’t wanna hurt shoulders or anythin’ else.” Aern squeezed his hands, waiting for some kind of response. When Silver nodded, he felt the thick leather close around his wrists and tighten down. He could wiggle his fingers, which he did to brush against the fine fabric of Aern’s new attire and tickle her just to hear her laughter near his ear again. As she pulled away, it hit Silver that this wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. No, his arms weren’t accustomed to this yet and there was a gentle burn starting, but it was something he could endure for as long as Aern needed him to.

At least, he could endure if he could continue to shift on occasion.

“Now ah...  Here. Lemme just…” Amid Silver’s shifts and settling, Aern had picked up the fabric and stood before him to wait. As soon as it was clear that he wasn’t in a state of panic or shock, he nodded for her to continue. She leaned and took his face to kiss him softly, the brush of silk against his cheek and the warmth of Aern’s skin too fleeting for his taste. And yet as he leaned to press in further, she pulled back until the soft clunk of cuffs hitting chair stopped him. She grinned down at him with excitement before slipping the cloth over his lovely green eyes and tying it behind his head. It was a little tight, something Silver was certain would loosen over time but still shook his head to alleviate. The pressure was enough to keep his eyes closed, which apparently meant the blindfold had been doing its job well.

But then, there was only silence. He knew that Aern couldn’t have gone terribly far away from him, but it was the first time he hadn’t felt her presence nearby. He breathed for a few seconds before asking (in what he hoped was the proper direction before him) “Aernthota? Are you there?”

His answer was gentle pressure against his neck. Something warm pressed carefully down to his shoulder, light and fleeting but enough to make Silver’s head roll to the side. The giggle he heard from just above him was a relief, and the soft thump of footsteps around him trailed off as he assumed she hit the rug. And perhaps that’s when he noticed (or rather tricked himself into believing) that he could hear more. Tiny things like that sounding so clear… Maybe there was some validity to this whole thi-

While he had busied himself with reassuring thoughts of success in their experiment, Aern had moved on from his neck and suddenly there was much more pressure against his dick than he was anticipating. That caught him off guard and with a soft hiss, his shoulders tensed up and the rings of the cuffs behind him clinked. “Thal’s balls, wh-what are you doing?” Again, no response came from his wife: only careful pressure against his chest and the soft dig of nails into the exposed skin near his neck. A shudder rolled down from scalp to toes, spending an extra throb in his groin against whatever she had so carefully placed there. His hips shifted, something he would swear was only for comfort and not for whatever vestiges of contact he could muster in such a position. But even this less than subtle motion was subdued by a slightly harder press against his chest. The nails bit in deeper and, for the first time, Aern spoke up since the blindfold had gone on. “Be patient… okay?”

It was supposed to be reassuring, but only made Silver groan. “Surely you’re not going to leave me in such a state for too long.”

The nails against his chest pulled down an ilm or two until they caught cloth. He bit his tongue to keep from swearing as he pulled against the cuffs again. If he really got desperate, it wouldn’t be impossible to break the links and say it was a failure in design. He had more than enough strength to do it and surely it wouldn’t be a disaster if things didn’t work out. Settling into a comfortable posture again, Silver paused and waited for the proper time to break out. It had to be perfect or else she might be suspicious and then…

He felt an odd little tremble between his thighs before there was a shift in weight. The nails that had been against his chest had curled up up and then there was only a fist pressed against skin, trying to keep him seated and still. And there was also the softest sound above him of pages turning furiously.

Surely she wasn’t…

“Sunflower… Are you flipping through that book for instructions or what?”

The sound of something crashing into the tea set on the table beside him was the only answer he got. It was at that point that it all became too much. No delicious pressure or thrill of inevitable sex could quell the laughter that spilled out of him.

“Y’know y’don’t have t’be so godsdamned astute, Sylb.” The fabric around his eyes loosened and dropped off, light stinging his eyes for a second before they focused onto Aern’s form again. There was a shaking knee, from fear or nerves or both, placed between his thighs and a resigned expression plastered on her face. “S’not like I’ve ever done this before… I figured help would… yanno?”

“I know,” Silver never thought he would be so pleased to see her red hair and freckles as much as he was in that moment and took a brief moment to simply drink up the sight of her before finishing his thoughts. “and while I appreciate all of this effort and warm up, I don’t believe we need all of this to enjoy each other.”

“I know we don’t but…” Aern shifted herself to perch neatly on Silver’s lap. The chair beneath groaned in protest at the addition of another Roegadyn, but she only tilted her head to press against Silver’s brow. “Can y’blame me for wanting to do something new? I’m always worried with everythin’ changing that… Well. What if tomorrow somethin’ wild happens. All the sudden we’re back on the run again? Maybe when things are safe an’ secure is th’best time t’change and play an’ see new things.”

Without looking, Silver blew a kiss towards Aern���s cheek. His burst of lust had slowly burnt itself down into a smolder; it was easy enough to focus on her words over the tension in his body. His voice was barely more than a whisper as he spoke up. “It’s fine. Even if this rest of this realm changes tomorrow, I will always be completely and wildly enamored with you, darling. You never have to do more than simply continue being the beautiful, adventurous woman who stole my heart.”

“S’that all?” A twinge of a laugh was present as she moved her head in to kiss Silver’s nose gently.

“That and tell whoever made you that ridiculous set of undergarments to make you about eight more of them so I don’t feel guilty ripping them clean off when you unhook me.”

That made Aern laugh in earnest, straightening up only to lean in once more and finally kiss her husband properly. Without pulling away from Silver, she shifted her weight in his lap, brushing against whatever half wilted erection was left with whatever she could carefully manage.

“So…” Her voice slipped down into a sultry purr as her hips rolled slowly, Silver cursing under his breath between occasional tugs against the chair, “Does this mean you’d like to be fr-”

CRACK

“Well what a surprise! Miss Aernthota here after her busy evening. I am to assume that means your plan and subsequent purchases were successful?” Kurt’s voice was clearly pleased, albiet concerned with the slight limp the Roegadyn seemed to carry as she approached him in the Goblet. Though that hardly seemed to be any of his business, honestly. Despite all of his assistance in acquiring materials needed, he had asked very few questions at all throughout the whole process. Perhaps that was why Aernthota had come to him in the first place.

After the appropriate greetings and required hugs, she nodded and held out a burlap sack for the man to take. “Y-Yeah it turned out fantastic but say… Y’think I could call in a quick favor? Things may have gotten a little…”

Before Aern could finish, Kurt had lifted a hand to silence her and reached for the sack. For a second he looked entirely confused as his hand fished around before upturning the whole thing into the middle of his lush lawn. Splintered wood and brackets tumbled out, their delicate sylvan glyphs and designs almost impossible to discern.

The miqo’te man remained silent when faced with the destruction before him until he simply could not contain himself any further. “My gods woman, what happened to this poor chair? Did thirty of you try sitting in the damned thing?”

“Ah… No just… Well just two of us! There was a fair bit of… well. Movement I suppose.” There was no shame in Aern’s voice as she spoke up, something that made interest in her evening and her limp wane even further.

Kurt Fahrenheit had heard many things in his life but this… His ears flattened as he carefully nudged the broken chair pieces into a more uniform pile and placed the bag down on top. With a polite cough and another lift of the hand, Kurt swished his tail and cut her off.

“No no. Miss Aernthota, I respect you far too much for you to tarnish your standing with me by finishing whatever explicit story I am sure you were going to regale. So let me go to my workshop, do “something” for you, and pretend like I never actually had any contact with your coitus chair. I will send you a… Carefully worded message on the Linkpearl when your request has been finished.” And without another glance down, Kurt strolled back to his workshop space with a small determined glint in his eye.

Perhaps he would make the next set of chairs for the Roegadyn something more sturdy if that was the kind of thing they enjoyed.