#to be fair he mostly IS the one who gets himself into these situations like. he could opt to not do these things. or at least make different

[qoldenskies]

Think the biggest thing about the family meeting for me is that it's literally just mean. They sit there berating Donnie until he cries. There's a supposed reason for the meeting, but Raph literally says that they're moving on to "serious talk" when they start discussing his "behavior." That entire segment of them tearing him down is literally just for their enjoyment. It's not vindictive in the way their physical abuse of him is, not as calculated as the closet situation. It's literally them just being flat out fucking mean because they're having fun doing it.

The fact that they especially poke at his autism is devastating. It's painful by itself (one of the biggest things people tend to praise about Rise when it comes to ND rep is that the brothers have literally never treated him as a burden because of who he is), but you've mentioned before that Donnie is really the one who suffers from the ND "my identity belongs to the people" experience. He uses his technology to make up for what he sees as deficits. But he's been told that not only does his "useless junk" not make up for his existence, but they absolutely hate those traits as much as he'd feared. I've always kind of thought that this was an underlying fear he never mentioned in Witch Town, mostly because it feels like a very ND struggle: it wasn't just the thought of being replaced by mystic that scared him, but the thought that all his tech, all his effort, had become not enough to make up for his living. Except in CC he can think back to what April said and think "You were wrong. You were wrong and I'm sorry for everything."

the fact that their words prey on a pre-existing insecurity is what makes it so HARD to undo.... like YES they can convince donnie that they DO love him, and that he didn't deserve to be lied to and hit and gaslit and abused, but the problem is that donnie heard all of these attacks on his character, and his behavior, and his sense of self was so fragile that even with the knowledge of the curse in mind, he continues to BELIEVE what they said is true. there are some moments where he intentionally holds himself back later down the line in CL, but after the final attack especially its so noticeable. he's so much less verbose. he speaks like he's embarrassed to be speaking. they've noted that so much of his cute little verbal quirks are gone and that he doesn't sound like himself.

it's because he's completely embarrassed with himself and what he used to be. he doesn't miss how things were, his grief is long gone; he feels ashamed for living in that illusion that he was in any way accepted, thinking he'd always just been embarrassing himself and his family without knowing it. his confidence was so fragile that it really only took something like the family meeting to DESTROY it; but to be fair, they wouldn't have gotten away with it day one because he is on the default defensive, but the anger had already been squashed completely and he was on to bargaining at that point.

and they knewwww godddd they knew. they all knew!

they watched themselves around him!! they always made sure not to go too far when they made fun of him!!! they understood how quick he was to disappear back into himself when he felt rejected and they worked around it because they loved him!!! they KNEW!!!!!

and the curse makes them take advantage of the fact that they knew!! what's so horrifying about the family meeting is that they KNEW how donnie was going to respond, they KNEW it would break him, and they KNEW they were going to get away with it, and they did it anyway because they thought it was funny.

and i dont even think they planned it out, especially apparent by the way raph ended up shutting it down. leo jumped on the opportunity and they just joined in the moment they got the chance to like sharks smelling blood in the water. it meant nothing to them, it wasn't an intentional, planned choice to get revenge or question his sense of reality. honestly, it was probably just them voicing all the shit they said behind his back (some to april.... yikes), and that's one of the things leo was scared about donnie SEEING because it was probably way more vicious. they had zero filter when they talked ABOUT him, because even through the curse there would still be the natural instinct to protect his feelings.

[ichorblossoms]

yarrow as a character who consistently gets into situations out of their depth and proceeds to deal with it anyways

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 15

content warning: more angst, mentions of food, mentions of underage drinking and recreational drug use, some suggestive convos but nothing too crazy

word count: 6.4k (@slushycoookie thee wife, thee beta 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

“Does it show anything different?”

“Will you give me a second?”

GymRat!Miguel who was currently sitting at his desk, bouncing his leg while he waited for Tempest to tell him something good.

“It’s honestly looking like the same thing from last night. And the week before. And the week before that,” she deadpans through the phone.

Miguel turned and pressed his lips to his palm.

His call list was a constant cycle between his friends back home and Gabriel, but mostly Tempest, who has taken the role of checking for any updates from you online.

So far, all he’s gotten out of this was pain. You’ve completely removed anything that involved him from your pages. No anniversary pics, no highlights, no emojis in your bio to refer to him. From how Tempest put it, this was a huge deal.

“Look,” Miguel slumped as he geared himself up to listen to the same speech she’d been repeating. “I know you don’t want to hear this- don’t make that face! - but I think it’s time to give up or try something new.”

“It’s been forever.”

“If your definition of forever is a little over two weeks, then sure!”

“I just thought that,” he paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“That she would bend at your will? You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“No, that’s not- Temp,” Miguel whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She snorted, “Uh huh. Which is why we’re stalking her page like weirdos.”

“If the roles were flipped, I would be doing the same for you. I have done the same for you.”

“Touché.”

Miguel remembered Tempest spiraling over girls she thought was the one, the two of them huddled up over the phone watching as they all moved onto the next.

He sat beside her and reminded himself never to get this way. He perked up like a flower soaking up the sun every time there was an inch of hope, which truly rivaled how Tempest acted.

“I was just thinking that today would be different. Maybe she would think about me today.”

The thought sits in the air, Tempest’s face shifting to one of sad understanding.

“Not trying to feed your delusions, but maybe she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

Miguel looked at the screen, a tiny bit optimistic.

“But in all fairness, I wouldn’t want anyone on my page who I thought committed one of the most cruel offenses. I would want to forget everything. You have to see this from her side too.”

Tempest was right, a common state when it came to their friendship. It didn’t stop that ugly rust of selfishness that crowded his heart.

He feels like he’s crying out for you, and you don’t care. A year of being together meant nothing to you.

Saying that out loud was insane, though. It didn’t align with how hurt you looked.

So, he’s been internally fighting the feeling, going from understanding to upset and back again.

“Have you talked to Xina at all?”

“She’s only keeping our conversations about school. And acting like nothing happened.”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Tempest said. “She got caught this time and doesn’t know what to do.”

“Apologizing could be a start.”

“And that requires admitting she was wrong in the first place, so if you get that, let me know so I can mark the day. I’ll even make a t-shirt.”

The sigh that left Miguel was strong enough to irritate Tempest’s speakers.

He wanted to talk to her about the situation again, but it was like talking with a brick wall. It reminded him of when he snapped at her for constantly hitting him when they were younger. Looking back, they were just kids, and she probably didn’t mean anything by it. The red tint and angry pout on her face as she slid him her chocolate milk as an apology stuck with him.

“Why do you want an apology anyway? Or, why do you expect one?”

Miguel wasn’t sure himself. Xina was his childhood best friend, someone with whom he spent a lot of time and shared secrets. There were sweet memories and joyful moments.

It sucks to see her act so different.

“I think,” Miguel paused, looking off through his dorm window. “I think that-”

“Oh my god, she just posted.”

Miguel almost dropped his phone while he switched back to the messages app.

“What is it? What is it?”

“It is,” she dragged out her i’s. The sound of Tempest screenshotting and tapping away at her phone was like rapid fire. “An event, I think?”

“What event? You aren’t sending the pictures fast enough.”

“I already pressed send! Not my fault I don’t have high-speed internet.”

“Tell your cousin to stop fucking hogging it.”

“Shut up and watch the screen.”

His eyes dart across the screen as he waits for the screenshare to load.

Your account comes up, still intact. Miguel takes in everything like he did back when he first met you.

There were new posts about the sculptures you made in class and food from a new café. There’s also a glimpse of you smiling, and he feels like he’s ready to erupt.

Tempest refreshed your page again.

“This is so against girl code.”

“You haven’t even talked with her before.”

“How would you know?”

“Temp.”

“Right, sorry.”

She taps your story, and a flyer comes up.

“A Halloween-themed festival night?” Miguel says as the story disappears.

“Sounds fun!”

“I’m going to go. Put the story back up again.”

Tempest side-eyed him as best as she could, “Uh, maybe let’s not.”

“Why can’t I? I’m a member of the student body.”

“Do you usually go to these things?”

“No,” Miguel slowed his words. “But I could now? Maybe she won’t even be there.”

“And if she is? Wouldn’t it seem like you’re stalking her?”

He thinks about the many times he’s lingered around the art building, walked by your favorite spot on campus, and stared at corners of the library that you loved to see if you would be there.

“No?”

“Doubtful.”

“I just need to see her in person.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ll be at the festival.

If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be disappointed, but the panic clawing at his throat won’t shift to his mind.

If he does see you, he’ll be like a fish out of water. Floundering, lost, and begging his lungs to gain its necessities.

He just hopes that going is the right decision.

GymRat!Miguel who goes to his robotics club meetup the next day.

There’s no competition coming up, but the department wanted to revise a moving metal skeleton for Halloween weekend.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Margo. I feel like it, too.”

She pulled his cheek out and made baby noises out of sympathy before Miguel swatted them away.

“Still no luck with your ex? Or is that joint giving you trouble?” she snickered at his sloppy attempt at connecting moving parts.

“Uh, no and yes.”

Aaron peeked up from his station and looked over like a beaver.

“I-it’s not because of what I said, right?”

Margo made a line with her mouth as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

“No, Aaron,” Miguel mumbled.

“Yeah, Aaron, stop being nosy and get back to work,” Margo joked.

He snapped his welder’s mask back down like a dork and returned to sawing something, sparks flying past him.

Margo looks down at Miguel’s work.

“Well, I hope you can get her back soon because you need to work on your anatomy. Those bones don’t go together at all.”

He looks to a femur and a humerus connected with the sheer will of his clouded mind.

He missed when you attached sticky notes to his body for practice. The prize for getting the different parts of his body correct being kisses. You would laugh at his mistake but give a peck on the lips anyway. His arms were one of your favorite places to put your star-shaped stickers on, too.

“I didn’t mean for you to get even sadder,” Margo snapped him out of the memory.

“It’s fine. My fault.”

Margo shifted her weight as she started to take apart his mistake, “It’ll get better, Miguel. I’m sure of it.”

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from Tyler at one of the uppity restaurants in town. The lights are dim, as if the people eating here are all hiding from something.

“How’s school?” Tyler asked, clothes still managing to glow despite the one warm lamp above the table. He thanks the waitress for refilling his water glass. “Made any new friends? Connections?”

The age-old awkward feeling of trying to concisely describe his growing adult life was at the top of his mind.

“It’s going well,” was always the easiest answer. Simple and open-ended.

Of course, Tyler took this as a sign to delve further.

“Your mother told me you’re taking up game programming this semester. Do you like the feel of that class?”

An ice cube floated to the top of Miguel’s glass.

“I was enjoying it at first, now I’m sort of ready for it to end.”

Tyler cleared his throat, hand covering the frown on his face.

“Ah, well, some people just like the end result, I suppose,” he refolds a napkin, the reflection from his watch panning across the tablecloth. “What about your girlfriend? How is she? Perhaps, you have some new pieces of her’s to show me. My colleagues love the one in the entryway.”

The waiter placed a filet mignon in front of Miguel and bluefin tuna across from him. Tyler moved to tuck the same napkin into his crisp button down.

“I’m not sure.”

Tyler pauses as a slice of fish dangles from his fork.

Miguel is still cutting into the meat unnecessarily, knife scrapping against the plate.

“Son, this cut of meat is like butter,” Tyler said, taking the knife from him and putting it back on its napkin.

A twitch at the corner of his lips almost aligned with Tyler’s. The man racked his brain for the memories of his first son coming home with a similar expression.

He chewed and swallowed his fish stacked with cucumbers and cilantro.

“As you know, I am not the best when it comes to relationships. Nancy and I have had quite the uphill battle. However, I believe I am well-versed in the field of compromise. Should I reach out to her for you?”

It was a long shot, and by the growing shadows on his son’s face, Tyler suspected that his suggestion was a poor one.

“What will that do? Other than show her that I can’t handle my own problems.”

“Surely, you two can work it out. She was lovely, truly,” Tyler frets, afraid he’s made Miguel even more upset.

He just starts to eat, mind elsewhere.

Tyler wondered if he should have ordered some wine.

“When you found out Nancy cheated on you, what did you do?”

Lemon juice from his dish hit his throat right as he swallowed, a hand banging on his chest as he coughed.

“I, uh,” two gulps of water were taken from the glass Miguel handed him. “Well. The fruit of that labor is in front of me.”

“Obviously,” Miguel’s shoulders dropped and Tyler grimaced again. Curse his silly statements. “I meant, how did you feel? What were your initial thoughts?”

“I remember being angry. Here laid the mother of my only child with a much younger and, honestly, less fortunate man. I thought I was foolish to think that my genuine love or money could keep someone.”

Miguel pushed around an asparagus on his plate, “So there was a betrayal. A pain you couldn’t describe.”

“Exactly. For me, that came afterwards. I’m a prideful man. If one thing does not satisfy me, I simply find something that does.”

“And that thing just happened to be my mother?”

“Ah, if you put it like that, it’s far too harsh,” Tyler fixes a cuff. “Your mother provided me a place of warmth, solitude, and love for a short time. It’s something I’ll never forget. I regret the hurt Nancy and I inflicted on each other, but I don’t regret you.”

Tyler watches and waits for a response. His son shifts in his seat and rolls his neck, eyes never leaving his plate.

“Has she,” Tyler tilts his head, “hurt you this way?”

“No, but I broke her trust.”

“You cheated?”

“Never. But we have a lot to work on.”

Tyler might order some bourbon tonight to drink in place of his son and the mopey demeanor.

“I’m all ears whenever you need me. But if there is as much love between you two as I saw earlier this year, then you’re sure to gain in back. That doesn’t go away.”

Miguel takes a deep breath and Tyler believes that some of the shadows on his face disappear.

The meal continued, and the people around them continued their quiet chatter.

“Could you do me a favor?” Miguel asks as they both clean their plates.

Tyler lights up, “Anything.”

“Don’t tell my mom about this?”

Tyler thinks back to the unpleasant things Conchata had to say about her son’s girlfriend and quietly agrees that it’s for the best of she’s out of the loop.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks up to the festival wearing one of the shirts you gave him for his birthday.

It was an impulsive decision because now that he’s here, he’s wondering if seeing it on him will upset you.

The festival is partially outside and inside, a mix of games, concessions, and small rides for students to enjoy.

He walked under the pumpkin and bat-shaped balloons, and fake smoke from a cauldron moved past him.

It smelled like sour candy apples, and marshmallows. Booths were all around the campus grass. He walked past them slowly, not interested but searching for something.

The turnout was nice for a night when he figured people would be out partying. There were a lot of students walking in and out.

A game caught his eye as he neared the entrance to the student center. It’s a Shoot Out booth with the ducks replaced with black cats and the gun switched to tiny ghost bean bags to match the theme. There’s a giant white bunny with an X for lips, a blue dress, and a bow on its ear.

It’s so you that he couldn’t resist.

The student volunteer told him he had three chances this round to knock out twenty cats for the bunny.

“Everyone’s been gunning for it, but this game is pretty hard!”

Miguel nodded in understanding.

If he focused enough, the bunny could be his.

On his first try, he knocked out thirteen cats, much to the volunteer’s surprise.

“Woah! You’re pretty good! Did you wanna grab anything from this tier?”

There was student association merch and a shirt with the college logo.

Miguel rolled his sleeves up, “No, I’m going to try for the plushie again.”

The second time, he knocked down the last cat with just a few seconds left on the timer.

The girl running the booth smiled with her eyebrows nearly merging to the top of her head in shock.

“I-I guess that means you win the bunny!”

She handed it to him with a lull of awe.

He muttered a quiet thanks and turned towards the doors with fake spiderwebs dangling off them.

There was music, a sign to go to a haunted hallway, and even more tables with food.

He wonders if you would have gotten scared walking through scary attractions with him. You would probably hold his hand as tight as he’s holding the belly of this rabbit.

Scanning the room, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of you anywhere.

Looking down at the little white face in his hands, he started to think he wasted the hour or so he’d been here.

Walking to the table of free cookies, he took a frosted Frankenstein in his hand and bit a bolt off.

He felt like a lost kid as he floated from table to table to stall.

Maybe he should give up. You were probably promoting this event for Jess.

GymRat!Miguel who was finishing off his fifth mummy-in-a-blanket when he saw you leaving the haunted hallway.

The first thing he noticed is the long, blue cardigan falling off your shoulders. The end of it is trailing after you as you run out.

There’s a grin on your face and an air in your steps, something he missed seeing.

The next thing he noticed was that you weren’t wearing your necklace anymore.

Then a hand pulled it up on your shoulders and slid back down your arm.

A guy is standing next to you and laughing as if you’ll give him money for doing so.

He’s tall. He looks like he could be built, too.

It’s like a slap in the face, worse than when you pushed him away.

Looking down, Miguel saw your hand in his, clinging tight. You smile at the guy and reach up to get something out of his hair.

Miguel thinks that there was nothing wrong with his hair. There was nothing to smile about either.

The guy’s hands touch you in places where Miguel has embraced. His fingers were covering the same neck he’d put his head in. His thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks, the same ones that used to crowd his lips.

You lean into the guy’s chest and say something that he can’t hear.

His stomach makes an angry lurch and he feels that orange being shift to a green one. It’s clawing at him, pulling at his mind.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to cling to some random guy. You weren’t supposed to be with someone else.

Miguel turns when he leans down towards you, chest burning. What he didn’t see was not true to him. What he didn’t know was not reality.

GymRat!Miguel stormed out of the building, and images of you happy with someone else faded onto the inside of his eyelids.

The material of his sweater was scratching against his skin as he made his way back to the festival entrance.

Everything was too much. The people were too loud, the lamps were too bright, and the music playing over the speakers sucked.

His nose started to twitch and he wondered why did festival food have so much damn sugar.

Someone nearly hits the ground as he pushes past them, a confused noise hitting the air, but he doesn’t feel inclined to stop.

GymRat!Miguel who almost breaks free from what feels like a harmful joke when Xina spots him.

“Hey!” She ran over to him, leaves crunching against her boots. She’s wearing the varsity jacket he bought her years ago. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I,” he stopped when he thought he heard your laugh somewhere deep in the festival. “I’m not feeling too good. Think I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”

“Oh, do you have a fever? The weather did drop out of nowhere,” her hand lifted, fingers twitching like she wanted to see for herself.

She hesitates, scared he’ll blow away.

When her fingers press into his neck, he just wants to cry. It felt like when she caught him crying under the trees on the playground or when he’d show up at his grandma’s house with a chubby face full of tears.

He covers her hand for a second, just one, then pushes it away.

If he talks about it, he’ll break into pieces.

“Here,” he shoved the bunny into her hands. The dress is wrinkled, and the bow is a bit lopsided.

Xina’s eyes grow as sees it. The smile on her lips is familiar, “Thank you. I love it.”

Her mouth opens as if she wants to say more, but Miguel starts first.

“Glad you like it. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, ok. Get back safe, Hare-Hare.”

He heads towards his building empty-handed.

GymRat!Miguel who is in denial.

He’s moved past his brain making up you being at the Halloween festival and was now choosing to believe that it was a friend.

The tiny Gabriel on his shoulder was telling him that you had moved on. You had a new boyfriend, so he needed to move on as well—or stop moping about you.

He was choosing to ignore him for now.

It’s been another week since he saw you. Thanksgiving was on its way and he hasn’t been focused in a single class.

At a time when he really needed Tempest to update him, she told him to step back and recenter himself. Something about him not being level-headed.

He didn’t care.

The point of no return was truly here as he stood in front of the elevator in the art building.

A bag of food was sweating in his palm, and the two drinks were seeping into his hoodie, but he would regret it forever if he didn’t try talking to you again before the semester was over.

He’s doing something he told himself he wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t help that he still knew your schedule by heart. Taking a chance on you sticking around for studio hours was all that he had.

GymRat!Miguel who got to the right floor and was happy to see a student leaving the room.

The lights in the hallway were still on and music came from down the hall.

Miguel walked down, peering in every door, leaving once he couldn’t see you or when the people inside gave him weird looks.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the last studio in the hallway with quiet steps.

Your canvas is almost bigger than you, the top of it covering you as you moved your brush across it.

You had headphones on, star molds stuck on the sides of them.

Miguel sat the food down on the table, moving like a stealthy agent.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, yet paint was still on them despite your efforts. You looked tired, but god, you were still overwhelmingly gorgeous to him.

He stepped closer. Slowly, step by step, coming into your peripheral.

“Why are you here?”

Miguel paused mid-walk, face like a puppy who got caught.

He should have thought this through more.

“I wanted to see you,” he holds his hands before him. It’s not making him any smaller, but it brings a slight comfort. “Brought some food.”

“’M not hungry.”

An apology is his first instinct, but the sound of your stomach growling speaks for him.

You refuse to look at him, face warm.

“It’s your favorite. Come eat, please.”

Taking off your headphones, you sighed.

“Fine.”

GymRat!Miguel who has to pinch himself to stop staring at you.

You weren’t just tired, you were exhausted. Your eyes drooped as you bit into your fries, and your movements were sluggish.

You didn’t ask for his extra sauce like you usually did. You didn’t even try to steal his fries.

“How have you been?” he asks instead of digging himself further into the sad hole of his heart.

Your eyes flick at him over your glasses and back to your food.

“Really, Miguel?”

“Y-yes? I’m always wondering how you are.”

“Then you should know how I’ve been already, then.”

Miguel faltered.

“You’re not very subtle, you know? I could see you pacing back and forth around campus.”

“Oh,” he slurped his drink nervously.

“And I saw you at the festival, too.”

He almost punctured the styrofoam in his hand.

“So, you’ve been fine is what you’re telling me. I’m gla-” he choked on the words. “I see you’ve…met someone.”

“He was just a friend. You could have said ‘hi’ then, if you really wanted to speak with me.”

“Didn’t look like a friend,” left Miguel’s mouth before he could stop it.

You hummed, eyebrows raised, and a click sound from your teeth. “Oh, but now do you see how that feels?” You started to untie your apron.

“I didn’t mean for that to come out in that way. I came here to just talk.”

“About what? How you didn’t actually cheat on me? How you didn’t mean for any of this to happen? How you’re sorry you got caught?”

He bit his tongue.

That was almost what he wanted to say.

“About us,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I still love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you. This is as plain and simple as I can say it. I’ll say it over and over and over again until you hear me.”

“Miguel,” your voice puffed out, weary and broken, “you cheated on me with your best friend and now you’re here trying to spin this and pull me back. I-I have dignity. As much as I want to pretend like what’s been happening this semester is meaningless, I can’t.”

“And I’m telling you that I would never do that you. Not in a million years, not in this lifetime, would I ever purposely hurt you in that way. Baby, please. Listen to me!”

“I see the way you are with her,” your words fall after his. “I remember the texts. There is something there. I don’t know if I can compete with that and I’m not trying to. So, if you want to be with her, then do that, but leave me out of it.”

Miguel is quick to grab your hands as you try to turn away, “Fine. There is something there.”

You try to yank yourself from him again, the pain from October 13th filling you again, but his hands are faster this time.

“There’s a girl who used to threaten to beat me up if I didn’t defend myself against bullies. There’s a girl who used to trade collectible cards with me in secret because her parents didn’t allow her to obsess over junk, and the girls at school thought it was lame. There’s a trust built long over a decade that has been broken. I do care about her, as I would do with any friend, but you have to understand that I care about you, too.”

“Then why didn’t you show that?” you whispered, tears leaving your eyes. “It felt humiliating, Miguel. That night, I felt disgusting. Like you were just throwing me away. I kept thinking that you lied to me about everything, that you were indulging in something that you never really wanted.”

Miguel reached to hold your face, thumbs sliding your tears away, heart breaking.

“Lo siento, amor. Hm?” he wanted to take your pain away and place it onto himself if it meant that you didn’t talk like this. “It’s not true. What we have created is not some trial run. I love you so deeply, that I was going insane. Knowing that you thought otherwise is painful to hear. The buildup to that night is a misunderstanding. You have to know that.”

You take a breath, “How could I know?”

Miguel stared at your face and thought the same.

He’s been yelling trust, trust, trust and when he thinks back to your few interactions with Xina, it clicks that you truly had no foundation to trust.

“If I had just been better, you would have known.”

Like you said, Xina had walked all over him.

“So what now?” you asked, and pull your sweater over your fingers.

Miguel blinked, “I was hoping to start over? Restart?”

“I can’t,” you said immediately and Miguel tensed. “You entering my life has given me far more ups than downs, but when those downs come, they can be brutal.”

“So, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, again?”

You shake your head and he felt like it was his turn to cry.

“I want action. Show me that something like this won’t happen again. We can sit here and tell each other promises until we’re blue in the face, but what do those promises mean if one person or thing can ruin it.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do anything.”

You brush his hair back and wrap his arms around your waist to settle in this feeling. Your thumbs traveled from his hairline to curves of his ears down to his jaw. They rub circles into his skin, slow and rhythmic.

“Have you talked with Xina? Has she confessed to what you’re telling me she has done?”

He shakes his head softly, afraid to break the scene.

You laugh, small and quiet, then unwrap his arms from around you. You go back to your canvas and start to scrape at the glass of the taboret. Miguel was so in a trance, that almost didn’t notice the switch.

“I’m going to talk with her,” Miguel stated across the room.

You wave a hand in the air, unmoved.

He followed you as you go to the mineral spirits bucket to soak your brushes.

“Baby-“

“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t talk to me until whatever you two have going on is fixed. Don’t know who 'baby' is.”

You walk to the sink and turn the water on. Miguel was right behind you and grabbing the dish soap before you can.

“And I will talk to her,” Miguel sayid. You reach for the soap and he holds it out of your reach, petulant. “Baby.”

You give him an irritated look and pinch his neck. He makes a hurt noise and gives you the jug.

“Action. Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who waited until you’ve packed everything up.

He didn’t mean for this to turn into him teasing you, but he couldn’t help it. He was getting his fill while he still could.

“At least let me walk you back to your dorm,” Miguel sayid, picking up the wet paper towels you’ve been throwing at him.

“No, thanks. I have a date. I don’t need you changing up my energy.”

Miguel’s smile dropped.

“You do?”

“His name starts with an R, ends with an E. He’s super sweet. Sturdy.”

Reese? Reggie? Raye? Ronnie?

“I see,” Miguel’s heart plummets. “Your friend wasn’t just that.”

“Mm-hm. We’re still testing the waters, but I don’t think he’ll disappoint me.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say. He was nothing but bold, though.

“Who’s to say that…guy won’t hurt you?”

Who’s to say that he would treat you better than Miguel?

You pull the straps of your back over your shoulders and Miguel wants to hold it for you.

A snicker leaves you, “Because he’s made of plastic and is designed of pleasure.”

“Oh.”

“Bye. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

Miguel stood and watched you go, wondering if this was progress.

GymRat!Miguel whose bedroom was filled with the chatter of his friends once more.

Friendsgiving was always fun.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that Lyla is a terrible teammate.

“You’ve got be doing this on purpose,” Miguel groaned as Lyla’s Yoshi pumps the pedal incorrectly.

“I don’t know what you’s talking about!” Her giggles float across the room as saw Miguel get more and more frustrated.

Winston and Tempest were laser-focused, their Monty Mole and Peach following a stead 1-2 rhythm to get their cart across the track.

“Lyla!” Miguel yells as her Yoshi stumbles back. “You’re selling me. You want me to lose.”

The mini-game ends with Tempest and Winston high-fiving each other and Miguel yelling at Bowser to pick his head up.

GymRat!Miguel who laughed as he watched Winston reenact his band director, nearly breaking his neck.

“I’ve never seen a bald man somersault on grass until that day.”

GymRat!Miguel who, full off of food and peach cobbler that Tempest made, stared at the bag of gummies that she placed in the middle of their huddle.

“We can just try this tonight. We’re safe with each other,” Tempest whispered.

“You guys are horrible role models,” Miguel said.

“I don’t know. That blue one is speaking to me. It reminds me of Scooby Doo,” Winston mumbled.

Lyla motioned across one, “Maybe we can cut it in half.”

“That defeats the purpose though. These barely have anything in them,” Tempest complained.

“Says you,” Miguel quipped. “You just called me about a cherry bong the other night.”

“Ok, but wasn’t it cute?”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly jumped out his skin when his door slams open.

Everyone except him shoves their gummy in their mouth with lightening speed. Miguel just holds his awkwardly as he turns to see him mom standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, ma?” he says. He chose to ignore Winston who is over exaggerating, lips smacking.

“Mijo! I have a surprise for you guys!”

GymRat!Miguel who sat awkwardly on his rug, running his wrapped gummy in his palm.

Lyla was practically in Tempest’s lap, tapping at her phone. Tempest is looking around their circle expectantly.

Winston started tapping a fast beat on his arm.

Miguel is looking everywhere except in front of him where Xina was sitting with her chin tucked into her knees.

“It’s good to see you again,” Winston said, forever the peacemaker.

Xina relaxed a bit, “You guys, too. I’ve missed this.”

Miguel saw Tempest softening up a bit at Xina’s words.

“When is stuff gonna hit?” Lyla barks out to which Tempest elbows her.

Xina cleared her throat, “Actually can we talk, Miguel?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Xina looked around them, “Alone?”

GymRat!Miguel who was standing across from Xina in the office-turned-bedroom that his parents barely used.

“Did my mom invite you?” Miguel asked.

“Actually, Tempest did.”

Miguel raises his eyebrows and nods. He didn’t expect that but he’s not mad at it.

Xina was antsy, arms hiding themselves in the sleeves folded across her body. Miguel stayed quiet.

“So, things between us haven’t been exactly smooth sailing lately.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Miguel looked down at the shark slippers you bought him last year.

“And I have some things that I want to explain to you.”

Miguel raised his eyes expectantly. Xina was mirroring his posture, but her face looked uncomfortable, conflicted.

Her eyes flicker over his before she covered her face and huffs, “这太难了.” (This is so hard.)

“What’s hard?” Miguel asks, pulling together the few times Xina taught him anything. He sat down, hoping it would relax her more.

Her hands drop as she blinks at the ceiling, “Everything. When it comes to you, everything just gets overwhelming.”

“As in?”

She looked at him in disbelief, “As in I’m doing silly shit, again.”

A pause in her words comes as they hear laughter from down the hall.

“Last year was so surreal. I did everything right. My mailbox was full of acceptance letters. My mom finally genuinely smiled at me for the first time in what felt like years. I moved so far away from my parents that I felt like that string that kept me attached to them had broken. I had fun. I went to my first party and got so drunk that when I woke up, I was on the porch of a frat. I made friends who could relate to me more than anyone else. I made acquaintances who could have never gotten into that school without their parents painting the campus with money. Still, I worked my ass off and got kicked out because one of them hid drugs under my seat.”

Miguel’s breath hitched, but Xina continued.

“It was my word against kids whose parents could have the school shut down within minutes. My dad was so angry at me that he pretended like I wasn’t in his home. And my mom just,” her leg started to bounce. “She helped me pack up some things and sent me to go live with my aunt for the summer. It wasn’t until she dropped me off at the airport that whispered to me that she loved me. That she was proud of me. That it was ok to make mistakes.”

“I cried like a baby for half of the flight. And it wasn’t until I got to customs that I realized that I should have called you. You always knew what to tell me no matter what the situation was and I just disappeared. Everything came back tenfold and I missed you so much. So when I saw you again, it was like I fell back into my old habits. I thought ‘I’m finally going to do it!’ but would chicken out and relieve that stress. I was kind of hoping that my tipsy self would have more confidence.”

“Because a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind?” Miguel hummed.

Xina finally laughed, “Are you 40 or something? Yeah. Exactly.”

Miguel blinked and looked up at her, “So tell me what your sober mind wants to say, Xina.”

Xina’s eyes lowered, “That I. I feel like I lose myself when I’m around you. It’s why I acted the way I did. It’s why I overstepped.”

His heart picked up as he registered her words.

“I like you so much, Miguel. More than I can bear. More than I’d like to admit. More than a friend.”

dividers by: @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Please don't be mad at me. 😵‍💫 Also please watch your tone in the comments. 🤠 Be very mindful, very demure.

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[2minutesnotice]

Why People With Mental Illness And Trauma Deserve Love

(and why Blitzø Buckso is one of them)

Grab yourself some snacks and a drink, I'll have a talk with you people who go all for the

"If you can't love yourself, you can't love anybody else"

mantra, which is toxic as fuck.

And sorry for the typos 😬🥲

SPOILER WARNING Full Moon

tw:mental illness / coping mechanism / self harm self worth / shitty parenting /abusive and toxic relationships

First of all, I'm autistic, so a lot of scenarios I'll give you will come from my experiences because it's easier for me to feel empathy that way and explain a situation.

BLITZØ IN FULL MOON

People come into my DMs and want to rant with me about him. I get it. It seems he's an asshole.

And he IS.

Blitzø has multiple character traits which are trauma coded and boy what a can of worms that is. Most of them are really hard in your face, like the fact that he can't stand his own face in pictures.

Which comes from a deep rooted self hate, which comes up in self worth issues. Blitzø had his fair experience with drugs and alcohol , even drowned himself in last to get over his shitty experience with Stolas at Ozzie's.

I'm not saying he's suicidal, but Blitzø's biggest fear is, to die alone.

Because he KNOWS how he is. That makes him really self reflected. He knows how he behaves, he knows his own coping mechanisms.

That's why it's so easy to make him mad. He's mostly angry at himself in most situations, so it also happened in Full Moon. Blitzø uses anger to get things out of people, because most people react to anger, but he's not doing it to HURT people, it's the only way he knows how to get an reaction out of people.

The reaction HE wants. Since Blitzø has no self worth he has no clue WHY people should love him. So he shoves them away and keeps them at distance.

At the same time he CRAVES intimacy. And here's the conflict. Blitzø's love language is sex.

He feels the closest to people if he can be intimate with them. And yes, even in a weird "I fuck Chaz to be close to M&M" kind of way. He is krass with his talking about sex, he over shares, he LOVES to talk about sex.

Because he's good at it. And because it gets him close to people. If the show had more time I bet we would've seen Blitzø having multiple one night stands over the time. Yes, even with his arrangement with Stolas. Because there was sex before there were feelings. Definitely.

Shitty Parenting x Self Worth

Blitzø got sold by his own father as a play buddy for a rich kid. Yes the rich kid was Stolas and it was cute, but still, rich kid.

And we all have seen, that he wasn't good at what his father made him do in the circus but what Blitzø always had, was his pride. Also, he's very good at making things up as they go. Doing that damn horse balloon and making a joke about it, shows how he is capable of selling himself still as the best, even if it isn't so.

We don't know much about Tilla, but we know Blitzø definitely had a closer relationship to her then to his father.

I know we only have two concrete scenes which show what kind of an relationship Cash and his son had, but the "I wish you were my son" card for Fizz kinda draws us the picture here.

As a child who always had to compete with a sister which was highly gifted, this does something to you.

You try to be better, at any cost. Sounds familiar?

"I'll try to be better".

But what? In what will he try to be better? I think Blitzø doesn't even know at what he will try to be better, he just does not want to lose this. But what is this?

RELATIONSHIPS

IF Blitzø would have just cared about his business, he would've walked away with the crystal. Just like that. He would've said

"Thank Satan, I thought I would lose my business,thanks Stolas, it was nice as it lasted" and he would've been gone.

But he didn't. He listened to what Stolas said but he didn't LISTEN. Because it was confusing as fuck, even as The Audience just watching it was a LOT what was said and going from

"I'll let you go" to "I have feelings for you, please stay" in a second.

And of course Blitzø would not understand that. Because Stolas could not MEAN it. Because Stolas has servants who are Imps and he called him names, a plaything and if Blitzø is anything for Stolas, at first, he's a whore.

Blitzø sold his body for a service. For his business.

They could have made that arrangement about ANYTHING. Money, another hitman service, bodyguarding.

STOLAS made it about sex. The thing Blitzø knows, the one he CRAVES, the thing he is good at, besides killing people.

But the one thing Blitzø is not good at, are words and feelings. And Stolas had a lot of them, at once. And it felt not fair for Blitzø to be cornered like that, because he had no idea what was expected from him. And then he used the ONLY thing he knows, which always gets something out of people: Anger.

That's the words and feelings he knows.

And he got an reaction, but also had to deal with the consequences.

STOLAS AT FULL MOON

I love Stolas. But he he's living in a romance novel world and there's also, trauma.

Stolas first words I had imprinted in my mind were "I always thought love could be fun". He wished for a happy family his whole life and all he got was an abusive wife and a loveless marriage.

He is a dreamer. Someone who loves the small things and he is caring. He loves to indulge in fiction, he loves telenovelas because even if there's drama, there are relationships. Something he never had experienced.

Stolas is a soft soul. But he's repressed and depressed as fuck. And that's not only because of Stella, but his upbringing and the knowledge to live in a Golden Cage. But he never voices that he has problems with THAT.

See, Stolas is a prince, he grew up with servants, Imps mostly. In a palace. Even if he despises Stella's parties, I bet if he wouldn't be an outsider in his own race, he would be the one doing the parties himself. It would do him some good because Stolas is also, lonely.

While Blitzø lived in Circus tents and tried to proof himself, Stolas had to proof that he's worthy his title as a prince. Being married, the whole heir thing, his duties.

And then Blitzø appears out of fucking nowhere, seducing him (like in his novels!), staying with him the whole night (showing him he's obviously gay), showing him he can choose, that he HAS A CHANCE to be happy.

With Blitzø.

And then we see the duet and the second Stolas sings about how he wants this to go, I knew they will fuck up. Because Stolas had played out this scenario SO OFTEN in his head, that he has so many images of Blitzø in his head that he knows this will not work out good. He has hopes and dreams but in the end, the decision falls on Blitzø.

So we go to Full Moon and Blitzø reacts... poorly. He even mocks him. And then he starts screaming and shouting and guess who else was always shouting and screaming? Guess who told Stolas his whole marriage that he's not worth anything. That he's not worth of love, that he's a failure, that his head is in the clouds and mocked him about everything he loves.

Blitzøs only way to cope with too many feelings is anger, Stolas trauma is based on anger and rejection.

But Stolas reacted so FAST. He gave Blitzø the crystal and he told him that he gives him the offer to stay, because he has feelings for him (like in his novels!) and his hopes are so high and the second he does not get what he wants, what he needs, he snaps. He's disappointed. He's hurt.

Because he wants this so bad to work.

But it can't, because they're for now reading the same book, but they're so not on the same page.

Because, and now we're getting there, they have to deal with what was said.

TRAUMA AND RELATIONSHIPS

I'm married for ten years now. My wife and I met each other 20 years ago.

I was suicidal back then, I cut myself regularly, I was depressed and had an eating disorder.

But I had friends. And I had relationships. And I loved so so deeply.

And then I got together with my wife 11 years ago. I was freshly diagnosed with being autistic, my wife has ADHD.

She also has several PTSD triggers, I have childhood trauma from living with my Mom who's an alcoholic.

And yes, I am able to have an relationship. We love each other dearly, we care about each other. We learn from each other, daily.

We have bad days, but we are GOOD for each other.

Because you DESERVE TO BE LOVED, no matter what.

In the first place is always that you're responsible for yourself. You can't trauma dump on your partner in excessive ways because that's not healthy. BUT learning to share your experiences but still being responsible for yourself and your actions, is a whole different thing.

You can love and be loved, even at your lowest.

But you have to be aware that your partner is not your therapist and that communication in a relationship, in which both parties are mentally ill, is KEY.

You have to go to the same ground, you have to explain what are your boundaries, what are your triggers but you have also to accept that the other one is sometimes not able to deal with your package.

My wife and I, we communicate DAILY. We have totally different needs. We have totally different views and patterns to deal with things. But we love each other.

Because we respect each other's differences.

And that's the homework for Stolas and Blitzø. They don't have to TO GET BETTER, they have to grow and they have to listen, communicate instead of just dumping expectations at each other.

You can't expect someone to break a pattern that is carved by trauma, just because you tell them you love them. And you can't expect that someone's listening when you push all their triggers at once.

I'm really excited how this will go. It's heartbreaking but I guess now that everything is said, they can finally be honest, without all the trauma dumping and pushing buttons.

And as I said:

You're worth of love. You're worth to be loved and you can give love, even at your lowest. Your deserve love, even at your lowest. You ARE loved.

Thank you for reading! ✨ Gold Star for you!

[heavenlyvision]

neglectful pairing: bi-han/reader wc: 2.2k warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, grinding, ab riding, (little bit) dirty talk, general filth, (little bit) mean bi-han, afab!reader, no use of y/n or pronouns a/n; i mentioned this offhandedly in the server the other day ages ago and i decided to follow through :D i got a little lazy with it though SORRY MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

An idea had struck you, a fun one at that! You just… had no idea how you were going to bring it up to Bi-Han. It’s not as if he would say no, you don’t think anyways, you’re just a little hesitant because he’s so… well, mean isn’t the best way to describe it but you don’t really have a better word for his attitude. Teasing maybe?

That and he’s been especially busy lately, barely giving you time together long enough to have a conversation, let alone be intimate. It’s something that’s been bothering you for a bit now but you have been ignoring. Today is supposed to be a relatively easy day for him though, so you’re hoping you’ll be able to relieve some tension.

He’s busy currently, meeting with Liu Kang at Wu-Shi academy, he brought you along because you had asked, you like seeing everyone here and Liu Kang is someone you’ve grown fond of. Though, you don’t mention that to Bi-Han, he isn’t fond of his situation and you’d rather not upset him by mentioning how you consider the fire God a friend. It’s a little dramatic of him to be so bothered by his standing but you understand that he wants more for himself and the Lin Kuei, you just don’t think it’s such a big deal.

You’re waiting for him in a courtyard, you’re not particularly interested in hearing what they have to speak about today, Bi-Han will probably grumble about it later anyways. Mostly you came for a change of scenery, it’s nice here, you feel a little at peace, a clear head. If you asked Bi-Han he probably wouldn’t feel the same way… you wonder where he feels most at peace.

You jump at the sudden sound of Bi-Han’s voice, “How many times have I told you to pay attention to your surroundings?”

Turning your head, you look back at him, his arms are crossed while he looks down at you from behind the bench you’re sitting on, “It’s fine to zone out a little bit here though…” you look forwards, “I just got a little lost in thought, and it’s not fair to say I don’t pay attention when you’re trained to be silent, how am I ever meant to know you’re there.”

“I wasn’t trying to be stealthy; you need to be more aware,” he grumbles.

You sigh at him, “Don’t scold me when I was having such a nice day.”

“I would have nicer days if I didn’t have to worry about you,” he rounds the bench and sits next to you.

“You’d worry even if I were as competent as you are,” you side-eye him.

He sneers lightly, “I might worry less.”

“You need to lighten up more, I like it here,” you lean back against the bench and smile easily at him. He doesn’t speak, just continues to scowl, so you add, “I was wondering where you feel most at peace.”

“Next to you,” he says it simply like it isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve been told, his expression neutral. You don’t even get to process it properly before he moves on, “We’re going home now,” and just like that, he’s standing up and waiting for you to do the same.

“You’re feeling cute today,” you observe as you stand and tip your head onto his shoulder for a moment.

He shoots back, “I’ll show you cute when we get home.”

“Ah and just like that… you ruined it,” you shake your head like you’re disappointed.

He hums at you, knowing better.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Sadly, Bi-Han got dragged off as soon as you got home, right as you were looking forward to his suggestive promise. You also haven’t forgotten what you wanted to try but now you’re sat in your shared bed, hours later, with your arms crossed, face scrunched in annoyance at how needed he seems to be.

Who cares that he’s the grandmaster? First and foremost, he is your partner and he had implied sex when you got home, only to have ‘duties’ to attend to. How dare he, honestly. The thought to just get yourself off and go to bed early crosses your mind but it wouldn’t be the same.

It’s not until later that he comes back, you’re already tucked in and trying to sleep when he’s pottering around the room getting ready for bed. You ignore him, feeling annoyed with him, not for any good reason really. Just feeling a little neglected today, it’s rare that you get to have him to yourself and his words this afternoon had gotten your hopes up.

The bed dips behind you as he gets under the covers, one of his hands reaching out for you and pulling your back to his front. His breath on your ear, “I know you’re awake.”

Astute bastard, “I’m not.”

He grunts and tugs you closer, “You’re mad at me.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he huffs, “I can tell when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” he opens his mouth but you speak over him, “I’m annoyed, there is a difference.”

His face nuzzles into your neck, words murmured into your skin, “Why are you annoyed?”

“You know why,” you sigh at him, “It feels like we never get much time together anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he asks, “Is this because you’re sexually frustrated?”

You almost choke, feeling personally targeted, “I am not sexually frustrated.”

“So, you don’t want me to make you cum right now?” His hand moves from your hip and travels to your front, large and splayed out against your stomach. Slowly inching lower and lower, fingertips just slipping into your pyjama pants.

“This won’t make me forget that I’m annoyed at you–” your breath hitches as his hand slips lower, deftly dipping under the waist band of your panties.

He affirms, “’Course not.” His fingers glide through your folds, he groans at the slick coating them, his mind very quickly wandering away from the conversation you were just having, “You sure you’re not sexually frustrated?”

“Shut –hah– up,” you’re struggling with words, having not been touched by him like this in a while. You’re trying to angle your hips just right but he’s purposefully avoiding the place you want him most.

He hums from behind you, “I’ve been awful neglectful…” Pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek, “…I’ll make up for it right now.”

Suddenly, you remember what had been on your mind, gasping out, “Wait, fuck– wait.”

His hand stills on you immediately, fingers holding still over your pulsing clit, it has you whimpering pathetically. It must be taking you too long to explain why you stopped him because he pulls his hand back and delivers a swift slap to your pussy. It jolts you, biting back another whine.

“Fuck– I just need a moment to think,” you’re struggling to remember yourself, already so embarrassingly worked up.

Looking over you, he speaks, “Have I really been that negligent?”

Frowning, you remove his hand from you and nudge him onto his back. Shuffling yourself so you’re straddling him, “I had plans, you know? Something new.”

His eyebrow quirks at you, “Oh?”

“I wanted to ride–”

“–Well, that’s hardly new.”

Glaring at him, you finish, “I didn’t say what I wanted to ride.”

That piques his interest, “Where?”

Reaching your hand out, you rest it over his stomach, or more accurately, his abs. Feeling shy as you imply your intentions, too embarrassed to admit what you want out loud. Looking away from the smug expression etching its way onto his features, you could do without the teasing.

Seemingly sensing your hesitance, he takes mercy on you – or maybe pity – tone not teasing as he says, “Alright, undress for me then.”

Taking the opening, you get off the bed to undress properly, returning to Bi-Han – now shirtless – waiting for you. All too eager to satisfy you this way, suddenly aware of how desperate he is to see you get off on him, literally.

Straddling him again, you hover your core over his abs, tentative in your approach. Pulling back at the last second to voice concern to Bi-Han, wondering if he’s okay with this, if you should be careful but he’s not interested and his hands grab your hips harshly, tugging you to just sit on him.

The slick of your pussy pooling on him, wet and hot and numbing his brain. Had it really been that long since he got to have you? How long has it been? He was semi-joking about you being sexually frustrated but as you sit on his abs and squirm, leaking, hot and so fucking obscene on him, he can’t help but feel guilty at the realisation of how needy you are for any form of friction.

He doesn’t realise he’s holding you still so firmly until you call his name weakly, pleading with him to let you move, needing the pleasure it will bring.

“Fuck– Go on,” he mumbles, nearly apologising as his grip loosens on you.

Immediately, you’re rutting down onto his abs, careful in how you move but less tentative. Feeling so good as your cunt drags over the ridges of his abs, clit grinding into him, hole clenching around nothing. Been so desperate for too long and now you get to rub all over him, slick coating his skin, leaving behind a wet sheen.

Your hands dig into his pecs, nails probably leaving behind little crescent marks, and if you draw blood or pierce skin then Bi-Han doesn’t give anything away. Too focused on your sloppy pussy fluttering on his muscles to take any notice. Obsessed with the little noises you’re letting out and the scrunched-up expression you’re wearing.

It’s sticky and obscene, making you somewhat self-conscious even as you continue to ride him like this. When you start slowing down, his hands grip you again, aiding you, dragging you back and forth.

His abs tense under you and your arms falter slightly, like they might give in, mouth dropping open with a moan. Eyes hazy as you look at him, his own eyes all blown out and locked onto where you’re rutting down into him.

Bi-Han’s own desperation is clawing up his spine as he watches you intently, realising now just how much he’s missed you. His large hands gripping your thighs firmly, marks will probably be left behind from where his bruising grip has been. Something he doesn’t mind at all.

His cock twitches at the way you’re panting, eyes soft and dazed as you continue to rub your cunt all over him. Thinking to himself that if he were any lesser of a man, he might’ve already blown his load from watching you.

It feels good, almost too good, so much friction, his hands holding you and helping you along. He’s usually so verbal in bed but suddenly lost for words and too focused on just watching. Your hips are starting to stutter, pace jerky as you get closer and closer, mostly being helped along by Bi-Han now.

The pace you had set now becoming difficult to keep up with, “Bi-Han–”

“Keep going, doing so fucking good for me,” his words are rushed, wanting to see you finish like this, needing you to cum like this.

“I don’t know if I can–”

“–Shh no, you can, already are,” his words are soft, a complete contrast to how he’s holding and moving you. Almost like you’re a doll to him, manhandling you until you cum for him.

Your nails dig harshly into his skin as your orgasm suddenly wracks through your body, cum pooling on his skin, smearing as he continues to grind you down into him. Not stopping even as you struggle to move, orgasm seizing your muscles slightly. Only really able to moan and paw at his skin.

He’s cursing under his breath, something you’re not entirely conscious of. Huffing and trying to catch your breath. Whining at him, trying to convey that he’s overstimulating you. He understands and stops, letting you sit on him, hands only resting against you instead of tightly holding and manoeuvring.

When he does move you, he’s only pushing you further down his body, wanting to see the mess you left behind. So incredibly wet and lewd, borderline depraved in the way his fingers move through it. Pulling back and holding them up, shining from the minimal light in the room.

It’s debauched and embarrassing and as you go to say as much, he slips those fingers into your open mouth. Pushing down on your tongue, forcing you to be quiet.

“Perfect, did a perfect job for me…” his fingers push back more, making you drool slightly, spit slipping from the corners of your mouth as you take his fingers, “…Always so messy, and I mean that as a compliment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, his compliments always so crude but effective nonetheless. He pulls his hand pack, watching your lips suck as his fingers leave your mouth, wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

His eyes are sharp when he looks at your fucked out expression, “We’re not done.”

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[ssinboo]

Midnights To Come

summary: After finding campus heartthrob Kim Mingyu absolutely butchering his trousers trying to fix the hole he'd busted in them, you offer his your sewing abilities. As retribution, he thinks that nothing is more fitting than his ultimate mission: getting you laid.

or

You and Mingyu spend an unforgettable night together.

pairing: University!AU - Popular!Mingyu x Unpopular!F!Reader, reader does read on the thicker side? Nothing specific.

word count: 6.8k (30~ minute read)

warnings: protected sex (finally), fingering (F rec), drinking, partying

a/n: Thank you so much for the love <3 This is mostly inspired by Taylor Swift's older music lol I'm starting a new job soon, so I'll be mostly MIA for march and perhaps april TT

Kim Mingyu was the ex-boyfriend of a friend’s friend’s cousin, unforgettably handsome with the sort of beauty that belonged in Hollywood. A very tall glass of gorgeous with an incredible personality to boot, that’s why everyone adored him. He was majoring in business to follow in his father’s footsteps but was a star at football and made sure no one would forget just who was the best lineman on their amateur team. 

And you’d met once or twice, briefly. Definitely not enough for him to come even close to becoming acquainted with your existence, but more than sufficient for him to leave his mark. He was a campus Idol, a guy you admired for his popularity and his way with people.

It was at a senior’s party your friend had dragged you to, that you met again. You were quietly searching for some solace in an empty room upstairs, when you saw him fiddling with his pants – It was hard not to notice his large frame struggling with a pair of jeans in the dark bedroom corner.

Being quite fair, at first you believed he was relieving himself, carnally. That was a puzzling sight as horrifying as it would be— I mean, the man had lines of women throwing themselves to be his, why would he just jerk off?  And then, you noticed the stapler he was using to completely butcher the fabric in a desperate way to fix the large hole. 

“Oh my God, just stop!” You exclaim, not being able to watch such abuse any longer. He was known to wear brand-name goods and just the thought of high quality fabric being assaulted by staples made your skin churn.

You, however, had totally forgotten to announce your presence. 

Mingyu jumps, falling off the bed in a split-second, clashing into the carpet with a thunderous thump. Eyes blown wide like a moose in headlights, he stares at you from his half-down half-on-the-bed position, suddenly, completely aware of his nakedness.

“Oh- Fuck–!” He exclaims, stumbling off the bed and pulling the jeans to cover his brand-name boxers.

“OH!” You also seem to realise how inappropriate it was to simply barge into his intimate moment with the stapler. “I’m sorry!” You yell from behind your palms, eyes tightly shut. 

“...No problem?” It sounds more of a question than anything. I mean, it was the polite thing to say when someone says “I’m sorry” however, there was a problem. 

“Do you need any help?” You ask, still muffled and hidden behind your hands. Mingyu has no idea on how to reply, he is familiar with those words, especially coming from a lady, but this scenario is totally different from the sexy ones he’s accustomed to. “I’m a seamstress,” Your brain urges for an explanation, as to make the situation somewhat less awkward.

He seems to be content with that. “You are?”

“Yes!” You turn around, fishing around your purse for a small sewing kit, pink plastic box with teeny tiny everything. “I have some needles and thread.” 

“Oh, thank God!”

That’s how you find yourself sitting on some stranger’s bed with a half-naked Mingyu – You’re carefully patching up the seams on his jeans while he sits cross-legged with a pillow between his legs. 

Who would’ve known that years into University, your closest call with a boy would be such a weird scenario. Sitting with the campus heartthrob as you stitch up his busted trousers. What a story to tell your friends. 

“I’m Mingyu, by the way,” He breaks the awkward silence, reaching out his hand; He then realises you are occupied and takes it back.

You tell him your name, eyes glued to the intricate detailing on the garment.

“Are you new here?” He asks, curiously studying your face.

“No,” You mutter, holding a needle between your lips so you can inspect your stitches. 

“How come we’ve never met?” 

“We have.”

Mingyu adjusts himself, leaning closer, “No”

“Yes?” 

“No!” 

“You dated my friend’s friend’s cousin,” You explain, though it doesn’t help.

“I’ve dated plenty of friends’ friends’ cousins’,” Mingyu half-chuckles, practically patting himself on the back for that one. 

You roll your eyes, “We met once or twice, nothing major.”

“I would’ve remembered you.” 

“You didn’t,” Laughing, you don’t even notice he’s taken offence to his own forgetfulness.

“I don’t forget a pretty girl,” It is said as a matter of factly, a worldly known truth of sorts.

“You haven’t.” 

“I forgot you, apparently,” Mingyu is more frustrated than you’d expect – Than anyone would expect for such a laid back guy.

“I’m not pretty, though?” 

Oh, he is furious at such a statement, “What?! Of course you are. You are a solid 7.5, no joke, dude.”

A solid seven point five? Wow. Coming from anyone else, that could be taken as an offence, I mean, what about you made them go so high up the scale yet not even give a full number? But you were talking about THE Kim Mingyu.

That not only tickles your ego in the right spot, but does get a good laugh out of you. Mingyu laughs along, not fully grasping the humour of it, but enjoying the sound of your giggles. 

“Thanks,” You smile, pulling out your scissors to clip the last of your thread. “Here, it’s done.” 

He widens his eyes, “So fast?!” 

With a nod, you put everything back in your pocket kit. Mingyu excitedly inspects his trousers and his jaw falls open once he can’t locate where your repairs are. 

“It’s perfect!”

You smile, “Great!” 

“Wow. You are some kind of sewing genius! Thanks! You saved my life”

Mingyu proceeds to rant about how great you are and how amazing your skills are and you should totally work with sewing – you are, and that you should make clothes – you do. All because you are just that good – from a small repair. 

You were happy with just helping him, seeing it as a finished mission, ready to pack up and head home but he would not have that, oh, no. Mingyu was laser focused on repaying your kindness – he said he hates owing people so you had to accept.   His manner of retribution? Partying and maybe, if you got lucky, getting you laid. It was his mission now.

So he dragged you downstairs to meet his inebriated friends, all surprisingly welcoming and not nearly as douchy as you’d expected – Soonyoung was especially keen on having you accompany him on the dance floor. Even drunk, his abilities surpassed any of your own and he absolutely demolished the floor with his intricate choreo. 

Seokmin pulled you from the dance floor to join him on a cheesy karaoke battle, the one feat no man can accomplish being as stone-cold sober as you were. His usually impeccable vocals suffered under the alcohol and strained over high-notes. So you just plucked the first poor soul you saw in the crowd to substitute you as Seokmin’s duet.  

Stumbling through the crowd and away from the karaoke, you finally find Mingyu, giving him “Help me” eyes. He laughs softly at your predicament, stumbling from his friend’s shoulder to wrap his arm around your neck — his exaggerated stature almost sent you crashing down. 

“Come on, no one caught your eye?” He slurs his words, wild tongue running over his pretty lips, classic red solo cup dangerously dangling from his long fingers. You can see from up close the drunken blurriness that glazes his pretty eyes with unhinged impulsiveness.

You chuckle, remembering his goal was to set you up for a “Hot date”. 

“Not at all. But I had fun.” 

“Whaat?!” He whines in frustration, stepping forward so you’re facing each other. His arm is still heavily draped over your shoulders. “You didn’t have fun!” 

“I did!” You argue.

“No…” Mingyu pouts.

“I did! I promise,” Offering him a smile, you await his response. 

“Have a drink with me?” 

God, he was a pro at puppy-dog-eyes. With pouty lips, glistening under the remnants of his drink and sparkling eyes with furrowed brows. 

“I don’t– I don’t drink,” You’re so upset with the idea of disappointing him and his adorable pout though he barely pays it any mind. 

“Then we can do something else! Come on!” 

“No, Mingyu–!” 

But he’s dragging you away from the party, placing the edge of his cup between his teeth so he can snatch his coat from the hangers on his way out. You’re stumbling under his weight and hurried steps, but the night air feels so refreshing after the stuffy frat house you practically forget his intentions. 

The house behind you thumps under the song that blasts through its brick walls, colourful LEDs flashing from open windows. The front yard feels almost completely separate from the party inside, a world apart from the drunk atmosphere that holds the stifling rooms. 

Mingyu drags you toward the pavement and standing before his car, you feel your stomach drop once you see him press the button to open the door. 

“Mingyu– You– You’re drunk. You can’t drive,” You stumble over your words, nervously fidgeting with your clothes, even if you left right now, would he still drive?

“I won’t. You’re sober,” He says as a matter of factly and you hadn’t even considered driving this insanely expensive sports car. 

Mingyu opens the driver’s door and stands there, gesturing for you to get in. A true gentleman. With a relieved breath, you do. 

It’s a convertible – Of course, it is, no other car would fit his personality as well. The chassis is coloured a blinding firetruck red and the rims are a polished silver, it’s so clearly well-maintained you feel nervous about driving it. The leather seats smell so vividly of his cologne, woody and fresh.

Mingyu closes your door and jogs to his seat, he jumps over his door with ease, settling onto the beige leather seat with a soft thump.

“Here’s ignition, turn signals, speed and all that,” He leans over and points to each item. 

“Is it stick?”

“Nah, I had it modified, it’s completely automatic.” 

“Wow, disappointed in you… I thought you’d drive stick like a real man,” You tease, leaning over to check the height for the seat – It’s obviously too far back so you adjust it forward.

“Too busy getting my dick sucked to worry about changin’ gears,” He sticks his tongue between his teeth, leaning back with a proud smile. 

“Oh, god,” You groan, “Should I be touching any surface on this car?”

“Nope.”

You laugh.

After putting on your seatbelt, you look over and notice that of course, he’s not wearing his. With a roll of your eyes, you lean over and pull the seat belt over his chest. Mingyu would’ve flinched had he not been tipsy, his eyes linger on your body over his, how your left hand holds the belt at his chest while your right hand fiddles with the lock. 

And you have such pretty long lashes that flutter along your cheeks as you focus on finding the clip for the belt. A soft furrow between your brows, you’re sighing and biting on your lower lip; He notices the pretty shade of red that you wear.

But you’re already done and it’s clipped on with a satisfying click. 

“Driver’s rules, shotgun shuts his mouth,”  You say before he can protest the safety measures.

You smile so brightly, happily turning back to the wheel, excited over this incredible machine that lays in your hands. More than the alcohol in his bloodstream, your joy is intoxicating.  

And the car comes alive with a satisfying roar, you feel the soft vibrating from the wheel course up your wrists. For you, following the speed limit felt perfect, the wheel turned so smoothly and the pedals felt the perfect height. But the little devil on the passenger’s seat kept egging you on to go faster. 

Caving to his wishes, you take the highway out of town, breezing through asphalt with no sight of other cars. The confidence that such a smooth ride gives is true, you feel yourself steadily increasing the speed much to Mingyu’s satisfaction.

The wind in your hair, caressing your face with the exhilarating night air, the thrilling constant hum of such a potent engine working to your heart’s content. Nothing could beat the constellation of artificial lighting that lit the night scenery, every building held its own collection.

“Where should I go?” You ask, suddenly remembering you’re supposed to have a destination, your eyes absolutely glued to the road. 

“Somewhere nice,” Mingyu hums, thinking for a second.

He leans back, his left hand is carelessly draped over your headrest and you can feel his fingers fidget with your hair so unconsciously. Any of his go-to destinations were made for getting hot and heavy, which wasn’t the goal tonight; He wanted to repay you for helping him out and you hadn’t shown any interest in… other manners of payment. So it left him with only one option. 

“Take a left next turn,” He says, leaning forward to dig through the glovebox. 

Mingyu finds a pair of sunglasses, putting them on despite the very obvious lack of Sunlight. He offers you a spare set, and though you’d love to enjoy wearing Prada sunglasses that probably cost more than your entire net worth, you also enjoy seeing anything on the road. So you push them on top of your head, pushing your hair back. 

Somewhere along the deserted road, Mingyu grabs the AUX cord, connecting it to his phone and going through his very generic musical taste. But the atmosphere is so perfect you can’t help but enjoy the bubblegum pop blasting from the dashboard. You even sing along. 

It’s a comfortable silence, filled with Pop music and laughter. 

You drive for almost an hour under his strict directions, until you reach a dirt road. There’s an alarm blaring in your mind, realising that you’re far from civilization, in the middle of nowhere with a total stranger. I mean, serial killers were always described as charismatic, right? 

Making a deal with yourself, you decide that if he does anything even remotely suspicious you’re running the car off the road. You’ll die, but he’ll go with you.

Against your anxiety, however, he tells you to pull up at a clearing just ahead and once you arrive, there’s no doubt on why he chose this place.

From atop this hill, you can see far into the city, its blinding lights nothing but tiny stars on the horizon, the noise pollution of a bustling metropolis is totally gone and replaced by the calming murmurs of nature. Before he can even say anything, you’re leaving the car to admire such a view. 

The moon is full, a pale veil over both of you, standing in the starry sky as the queen, ruling over her stars. The light caressing your body with the warmth of the perfect Summer night.

“What do you think?” Mingyu asks, leaning against the hood of his car. 

You can’t help but to briefly admire the picturesque scene he paints with his playboy aura and Hollywoodian beauty, leaning against this straight-out-of-a-movie convertible. He has this side smirk, knowing this breathtaking landscape can’t be topped by any of your past experiences. 

“It’s…” There aren’t words you can find to describe such a view.  “I– Thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

He visibly relaxes, as if he was waiting anxiously for your opinion, “It’s my favourite place.”

“I can see why,” You laugh, joining him, though you have a little trouble stabilising your butt over the hood.

“Everything feels small when I come here,” He explains. 

Turning to face him, your stomach is filled with annoying little butterflies that flutter around and tickle your insides with foolish thoughts. 

His moonlit profile is somehow prettier than his beauty in any other lighting, his perfect nose and high cheekbones and his eyes, God, his eyes. They hold in their dark orbs, all of the stars and worlds, in its ethereal shine. 

You hum, prying your gaze from him before your brain gets any outlandish rushes of dopamine and creates unattainable ideas. 

Mingyu leans back, his lanky body hitting the windshield, his eyes stare up at the stars. At this moment, he wishes he knew constellations from the top of his head, then maybe, he could impress you with his astronomical knowledge. 

“You look like a movie star right now… I feel like I’m in a movie,” Joking, you lean on your elbow, unconsciously following his body with your own. 

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” He asks on a spur of the moment.

You laugh, “When I grow up?”

Mingyu realises what you meant by your question and laughs along, “You know what I meant.”

Though you’re caught aback, there’s not much thinking to be done, “I want to design clothes.”

He hums, “It suits you, I think.” He didn’t know you that well, but it seemed fitting.

You chuckle, “You?”

Mingyu lets out a long sigh, leaning on his elbows to stare up at you, “CEO, I guess.”

“Have you always wanted to be a CEO?”

His lips press into a thin line and he hesitates on how much he should tell, throwing caution into the air, Mingyu decides to open up. “I honestly… Don’t want to.”

You furrow your brows, “Won’t you take over your father’s company?” 

He nods, “That’s what I should do.”

“Then what do you want to be?”

It’s such an innocent question and in all honesty, sort of childish almost? Something you would ask a small child and just agree with whatever they come up with. But it’s something he was never allowed to question.

“I… Don’t think I know.” 

You hum, “You could be an actor,” It’s a bit of a tease as much as it is the truth. 

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, sitting up so he can face you properly. You have this soft smile on your face that holds so much warmth for a stranger like him, it almost feels undeserving. 

“An actor?” He prods. 

“Yeah,” You shrug, “You just have the vibes for it… Living a thousand lives in just one, I think you could play any character really well. Plus, you have the looks. I always told my friends you have a face that belongs in Hollywood.” It comes out so naturally, you barely realise what you’ve said until he’s staring at you. “I– Sorr–”

Mingyu smashes his lips into yours. 

You squeak, but don’t shy away from his plush lips. 

His left hand reaches for your jaw, fingers softly tracing your cheek with certain hesitancy but you lean into his touch so willingly he can’t help the bubbling feeling that comes to life deep in his belly. 

When your lips part, you feel the night breeze caress the parts of your body he touched and you find your body misses his warmth. 

Your brain simply can’t function. 

In your brilliant academic journey, romance had never been an aspect you entertained. You quickly learned at thirteen that a fairytale story only happens to cute girls with nice hair and pretty bodies. And not the one repeatedly being used as the butt-end of a cruel joke. 

Mingyu represented everything you would never have; A popular, rich guy with amazing hair and looks out of this world. And he was nice, too. Took time of his day to hang out with you and to repay what had been an instinctive action; help out someone. 

It could only have been a mistake, right?

Mingyu, noticing the dread that paints your pretty face, can’t help the cold shiver that takes over his body, “I… I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine! I won’t tell anyone.” You reply all too fast.

“What?” He blinks a couple of times, “What do you mean?”

“Y’know, I won’t ruin your reputation…”

He practically jumps from the car, standing in front of you, “Say it again.” 

You look up, his towering height has never once been intimidating, until now, “...I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” 

“No, what the fuck do you mean ruin my reputation, why would kissing you ruin it?” His voice possesses such anger you couldn’t even think he was capable of. But you feel yourself getting upset, how long will he torture you with this? Do you need to say with all words how undesirable you are?

“Because no one in their right mind should be seen with a girl like me!” You blurt out, feeling his anger seep into your body.

“A girl like you?” He huffs in disbelief. “A girl that indulged me, was nice to my friends and let me drag her to the middle of nowhere?” Mingyu leans forward, caging your body in between his arms. “ A pretty, kind girl, who helped me without asking anything for it? What kind of girl, tell me.” He orders, his voice in a low, hushed tone that tickles your nose when he speaks.

Speechless, you’re sitting there, face to face with a guy that genuinely shows interest in you, told you you’re pretty for the nth time tonight and has the most kissable lips you’ve seen. 

His jaw is tight with anger, almost as if he’s got a personal vendetta against you self-hatred, but your stupid lustful brain can’t focus on anything but the sharp cut of his jaw, deep veins bulging from tanned skin. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, so quietly you think you hallucinated it. But it’s very much true. 

He looks so irresistible, half-lidded eyes staring at your lips while he bites his own. 

“Please,” you exhale, melting into his body when he leans forward. 

You were never a woman of action, preferring when others make the move, but in this moment you have this newfound confidence, meeting his lips halfway, crashing into a fervorous kiss.

It’s nothing like your first, you feel the heat emanating from his body, scorching hot seeping into your skin, burning every nerve it touches with fervorous want. 

His tongue is in your mouth, anxious and exploring and he is humming against your lips such an intoxicating melody that for a second, you’re a stranded sailor falling for the voice of a siren and dipping into the arms of unimaginable beauty.

Saliva drips from your connected lips but he refuses to end the kiss, no. Because you taste of cherry flavoured hard candies, provocatively luscious with a delicious aftertaste that can only leave you longing for more. 

He parts the kiss, leaning back and practically tearing his varsity jacket from his body. You’re watching closely as he lays it behind you, over the car.

Right hand moving to your waist, Mingyu pushes forward until you’re laying on the hood, so pretty. Your body is still finding his, your chest leaning forward so you can mould into his warmth, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, closer, closer. 

You’re breathless, eyes trained on his every move with such incredulity as if you believed you were in a dream, hallucinating every moment so far. 

He can feel every curve of your body pressing tightly against his. It’s evident the effect you’re having on him, blood boiling in his veins with unadulterated desire.

There has never been a moment in his life where he genuinely cared to go slow, to show his passion and intent; Every partner of his had been as much into the act as he had been. 

But you, you’re so fragile and every moment he spends in your presence feels so ephemeral, he can not help the panic that rushes into his body to make it worth it, to make every second last.

His lips trace along your jaw, saliva coating the path he trails down your neck until he reaches your collarbones. And his lips are so gentle and enticing, with their sugary kisses that you lean into because you’ve never felt something so wonderful. 

He nibbles and kisses on your exposed skin, teeth grazing across the teeniest bit of cleavage showing from your borrowed dress. So far, you had done an amazing job at keeping the sounds he elicited from leaving your lips, however this once, you couldn’t hold the breathy mewl that escapes. 

Mingyu freezes, eyes slowly rising up until they meet your face. 

“Oh my god, do it again,” He huffs against your sensitive skin.

“W-What?” You ask.

“That sound you just did, god, you sound so fucking hot,” And he slurs against your chest. Not because of alcohol, no, he had sobered up on the windy car ride, but intoxicated on the effortless warmth that you exude. 

You lit a flame on his chest that burns incandescently with nothing but greedy lust, burning its way through his body with an unfathomable hunger that could only be satisfied by your sweetest moans. 

He struggles with the buttons that decorate the cleavage of your dress, trying to undo them and seriously questioning his soberness when they do not separate.

“It’s got a zipper,” You admit, but he looks so relieved. 

Mingyu leans back, pulling you by your hand until you crash into his chest and he can finally reach the back of your dress. You’re breathing so heavily against his skin, your soft hands grazing along the nape of his neck, fingers tangling into his hair; He can hardly focus on the task at hand. 

His right hand runs under the skirt of your dress, clawing at your flesh with heavy hands, almost as if he wanted to hold you fully in his touch. Toying with the band of your panties, he sighs, watching your chest heave at the contact.

You pull your dress sleeves off, letting the fabric bundle around your waist, though you can’t be arsed to properly take it off. Mingyu does not mind at all, no, he’s absolutely hypnotised by the sight of your tits.

Shoving his face onto your cleavage, he’s pulling you closer into his body by your hips, sucking love bites on your unblemished skin. Leaving a trace of him that would last longer than your moments together, a mark of momentary possession that allowed his brain to indulge.  

And you’re contaminated with his boldness, clawing at his shirt with relentless anticipation. You suddenly have this peculiar urge to feel his skin on yours, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

Mingyu smiles against your skin, finding your hands that touch him fervently, wrapping his fingers around yours. And for a brief moment, you feel as though you might’ve wronged him, but he pulls your hands to wrap around his neck as he finds your lips again while his hands are pulling on the hem of his shirt.

The kiss is only parted once, when he pulls the white shirt above his shoulders and discards it somewhere across the soft grass; completely unimportant at the moment. 

And god, Mingyu is divinely sculpted with defined pecs and hardened abs that tense under your touch. You sigh at the dreamy sight of his tan skin completely exposed for your viewing only. 

He relishes in the adoring look you exhibit, eyes dripping wholly in an exquisite hunger you’ve never felt before; And he coerces this scandalous reaction from you with pride. Your hands are eager to touch him, so you do. You run your fingers down his supple skin, fingernails grazing in teasing lines. 

Smoothing out your hands up his chest, you find his neck and pull him toward your lips, wanting to feel his bare skin on yours, stealing his heat until your bodies are running at the exact same temperature.

His hands, large and calloused from playing professional sports, lay heavy on your thighs. Mingyu pulls at the waistband of your panties and takes a second to lock eyes with you, guaranteeing your approval. 

You can only hope you’ve got the good pair of underwear on. 

But it doesn’t matter, because he pulls it off at once, discarding it above his shoulder to fall somewhere along his shirt. 

Your dress is bunched up around your waist and you should’ve felt more embarrassed to be completely exposed before him but Mingyu looks at you with such reverent eyes, taking every inch of abundant flesh with care. 

“Fuck–” He groans, eyes glued to the spot between your legs. You can’t even close them in an attempt at modesty because he is standing right there and not going anywhere. 

He runs a slender finger across your slit, breathing heavier at the sight of moisture that pools along the lips. 

When you bite your lower lip, unknowingly coquettish and staring at him all bright eyed and pleading, Mingyu let out a strained sound that could barely be classified as a groan. 

“Can I?” 

His finger dances around your slit and he looks unsure. You nod with a soft “Yeah.”

Nothing like anything you’ve felt or done before.

That’s the only way to explain the feeling of having his long finger prodding at your hole with gentle movement. He soon joins another one, stretching you out with delicate scissoring motions, he’s not focused on making you cum, he wants to prepare you for him. 

And that very thought makes your stomach tighten in anticipation. 

You don’t even realise when your hips are thrusting against his hand, matching his pace. And you’re definitely not thinking when you ask in a gasp:

“A… Another one–”

Mingyu stills. 

“You don’t fuckin–” He leans forward, forehead flushed to yours, uneven breath tickling your sensitive lips. “You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me, babygirl.” 

You feel your body consumed with an unstoppable amount of confidence, knowing the grip you hold over Mingyu at this moment, you’re dizzy with power.

“Show me, then,” The lazy smile that finds your red stained lips is a sight to bear.

He smirks, knowing he will make you eat your words soon. 

As he pulls his fingers from your cunt, there is a thick string of arousal that coats his skin in a sinful glaze. With a confident smirk, Mingyu 

But he doesn’t expect when you lean forward, letting your tongue run all over, cleaning his fingers and tasting first-hand the pleasure he brings you. 

Oh, fucking hell. 

Mingyu could’ve cum right then and there. 

You’re giggling as he fumbles with his belt, he wishes he could’ve stopped to appreciate such a sweet sound, but he was way too horny to think about anything other than plunging his cock into you at once. 

When the night breeze hits his throbbing erection, Mingyu shivers.

You’re chewing on your lower lip, equal parts excited and terrified at his sheer size. He is large. And fat, with bulging veins running down his length and a thick head that’s trickling with pre-cum. 

“Oh my god.” 

Mingyu cowers at your gasp, “What?”

“You’re huge, fuck.” 

Oh, your praise runs straight down to his erection. His chest puffs out with absolute pride.

“Do you have a condom?” It was a silly question when aimed toward Mingyu, of course he did. He always does. 

He fishes out his wallet and pulls a fresh packet, tearing the foil apart with his teeth and pulling the pre-lubed rubber. Mingyu is about to roll it over himself when your hands find his. 

“Can I–?” You ask and he almost sighs. 

He watches you with bated breath. You’re delicate, small hands quietly rolling the condom over his seemingly unending length until you’ve reached the base. Your fingers linger in curiosity and he can’t help but to find it adorable.

Properly protected, Mingyu grasps his length as you position yourself better on the hood, legs wide open, dripping in anticipation. Oh, you couldn’t fault his desire to tease, could you?

Running his tip over and over your drenched core, he groans. You’re clenching around nothing, hands fidgeting with the bunched up fabric of your dress. Mingyu has a stupid confident smirk on his lips, watching you squirm at his minimal touch. 

“Mingyu!” You whine when he brushes against your clit. Reaching your right hand, you claw at his heaving chest. He doesn’t budge, however.

“What?” He plays dumb, toying with your hole. 

“F-Fuck me? Please…?”

Fuck seven point five, you were a ten, a twenty, a one-hundred, no fucking numbers could quantify your allure, no. You could charm your way out of any crime if you pursed your brows and pouted your lips like this, smeared red lipstick painting your soft skin, saliva dripping down your chin so indecently. 

And your hand was still, caressing his stomach, like a succubus ready to pounce and devour him like a five course-meal. Consume him whole, body and soul until he has nothing left to give. He would let you have him, any way you wanted, you just needed to say the word.

Just needed to let his name fall out of your pretty lips in a breathy gasp and he would be at your call. 

Mingyu enters you slowly, stretching out every millimetre of your walls with a burning feeling of fullness.

“Fuck–” He groans, “Relax for me, baby.” 

You take a deep breath, allowing your body to relax as much as your brain allows at the moment and he takes the chance to stretch you out further, hips pistoning forward. 

Mingyu feels the pleasure seep into his body in one fell swoop, dissolving in his bloodstream, filling his lungs with heat. You’re snug around him, clamping down on his sensitive erection, pulsing alive and throbbing. 

“Are you in?” You ask, not risking looking down and disappointing yourself at the remaining length. Mingyu is hovering just inches above you, hand taut on the hood, using every bit of restraint imaginable to not pound you into tomorrow.

“Just a little more,” He breathes out, head coming to rest on the crook of your neck as his hip comes to meet yours.

He allows you a moment to let the stretch lessen, to allow your discomfort to slowly morph into pleasure. And soon, you’ve got your arms wrapped tight around his broad shoulders, his almond eyes have completely surrendered to the dark gaze of lust, devouring you alive with their insatiable hunger. 

“You can move now…” You breathe out, fingers tangling around his silky smooth hair. 

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” He smiles against your lips, hips finding themselves a languid, slow and torturous pace until you’re begging for more. 

The way his body feels against your is something unforgettably wonderful, every curve of his torso giving into your own, every inch of you filling into the gaps of his in an imperfectly perfect little puzzle.

With every thrust, you’re pulling at the roots of his hair, gaining yourself sharp hisses from Mingyu. Though he enjoys the tugging, leans into your scratching, presents his lips to you with total eagerness.

He fastens his movement, thrusting into you with sheer fervour. His hands are exploring your body, kneading at abundant flesh with excited fingers that leave trails of crescent moons shapes along your skin. 

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, caressed by the breeze and the moonlight, you’re whispering his name in an unanswered prayer, letting the syllables dance around in your tongue before you let them slip away into the starry night sky to be forgotten. 

You’re clenching around him with pleasure, feeling the knot in your belly tighten and tighten. 

“Feels– So good,” Mingyu hisses against your kisses, hips not stuttering even once. 

Brain an absolute mush, you can’t find any words to respond other than strained moans.

“So– Fucking good…” Nuzzling along your jaw, he grazes his teeth on your neck, painting your skin with love bites.

“I–” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He doesn’t even need you to finish your sentence to know what you meant.

“Yeah? Me too– Let go, baby.” 

Digging his hands into your hips, Mingyu hurries his thrusts, hitting your sweet spot again and again until you’re melting in his arms, singing praise of his name with your candied voice and luring him into his own orgasm. 

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a harsh kiss, hips slowing down as he comes undone, tainting the condom with heavy spurts. 

You’re both gasping in complicity, blanketed in the summer night.

Once the condom is discarded, Mingyu lays by your side and pulls you into his heaving chest. You both lay there in comfortable silence, letting the orgasms fade out into strained sleepiness. 

“Will you promise to remember me?” You ask, watching the twinkling stars that lay before you two.

“Where did that come from?” Mingyu chuckles. 

“Do you promise?” Your voice is a soft whisper that dissipates into a shaky, hesitant breath, “Do you promise to remember me?”

He laughs, but your eyes hold such urgency, he can not ignore the human need to sympathise with your woes. “...Why– Why do you say that?”

“Because…” You sigh, “Because I’ll remember you, – this,” Hands vaguely gesturing toward your conjoined bodies, “For the rest of my life… And I’m afraid even a decade from now, you won’t be able to recall my name or what I look like.” 

It’s serious, it’s a concern that has plagued your mind since the moment you laid down. However, Mingyu can only focus on the fact that you’ve assumed the two of you won’t see each other again, ever. 

Leaning forward, his slight smile does nothing to hide the clearly confused look that is plastered across his handsome face, “It’s like you plan to disappear. We’ll see each other again.”

You shake your head, “What are the chances, Mingyu? We’re just… Fleeting seconds in centuries. What are the chances alumni – Not even from the same major, – will meet again?”

“What if we promise to meet?” Oh, he’s absolutely set on it, but you find it adorable; this fervorous intent on defying the hands fate has laid before you.

“Then, what happens when we’re bored of each other?” You chew on your lower lip, but he discards your argument. 

“That might not happen,” He points out.

“We’re too different. It defeats fate to force it,” You sigh.

Mingyu doesn’t have an answer right now, but he’s seeking one with furrowed brows and pouted lips.

“Remember me like this, no wait–” You run your fingers through tangled hair in an attempt to fix the messing he’d done before. “Done. Like this.” You flash a smile, posing your body in the best angle it has, to construct the perfect memory.

But Mingyu sees your flustered cheeks, smeared lipstick that leaves behind a stained trail of hot red over swollen-kissed lips. Sleep hazed eyes that gaze at him with such warmth, that hold a longing he wouldn’t be able to grasp for another decade. You liked him, you truly did. And that’s why you would never allow your memories of him to be tainted by the grasps of time. 

You’d forever remember his dorky smile and dad jokes, his clumsy hands and warmth.

And Mingyu doesn’t realise it yet, but he would forever remember you as someone who marked him forever. To disregard the cards you’re dealt, make your own memories, remember it all fondly. 

Maybe in a couple years, you will have a wild dream about this very moment, a fuzzy memory that leaves behind a nostalgic smile that will follow you for the day, reminding you of this perfect feeling. You’ll look back with wistful thinking of the good days. 

And will keep it close to your heart.

Where it belongs.

You thought about it often the day after, but days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years. And a decade later, you found yourself having a dream about the distant memory, and the sweet nostalgic feeling accompanied you throughout your routine. 

After university, you had found a simple job in your area that sufficed the need for experience and filled the empty stop in your resume. Though it was far from fulfilling. There was no creative liberty allowed and you often found yourself overworked and constricted by tight deadlines. 

The dream of your own line had yet to die, however. That’s why you had volunteered for such a demanding gig: designing for a historical movie. Luckily, your resume had allowed you a good position, overseeing the wardrobe and designing the pieces that would be forever captured on film.

The main character, a pretty young thing with curly hair, was extremely excited to work with you and almost cried when she saw the dresses she would be wearing. 

Today, you would be fitting for the lead male role and designing him some characteristic James Dean style clothes. Your assistant led him to your office while you were gathering your materials. 

When you enter the room and you’re met with those gorgeous almond eyes, you can’t help the stupid smile that finds your lips.

“This is the lead actor, Kim Mingyu,” Your assistant explains. 

“Yeah, I know,” You laugh. 

He stands up, a charming smirk plastered on his pretty face, “Hey.”

Your assistant looks at you with a puzzled look, “You know each other?”

Mingyu nods. 

“Yeah, I never forget a pretty face.” 

[breadandblankets]

Duke is a man of science and a man of questions. This leads him down many rabbit holes but most specifically printing out dozens upon dozens of business cards.

Gothamites are by and large, smart people, so not many people scan the little code even if it was put in their hands by Gotham's very own daytime hero. But it only takes a couple to get #SignalSurvey trending.

Duke doesn't find out (even though he has been trawling social media for days) until Babs shoots him a text in his Econ class (which is honestly a snoozefest anyway).

Sauron: I'll keep your secret.

Galadriel: dont u dare skew my data

Sauron: I would Never

Galadriel: yes u would

Sauron: little birdy has been a good boy so he may live.

-

Young people, who were reckless enough with their online safety (and knowledgeable enough to actually Use the thing) are the first to complete Duke's little experiment.

The answers start pouring in, with Red Hood well in the lead. The comments include things like "wet blanket" and "lame" which makes Duke laugh his whole ass off.

It's not until older internet savvy people get a hold of the link that the results become Fascinating. Nightwing begins to pull ahead, the comments are filled with: "please please less puns they're terrible" and "can't stand him but he's adorable so I forgive him".

Memorably: "Nightwing rescued me from a hostage situation one time. He talked the whole time and at the end I wanted to go back to my kidnappers. You're my hero Mr. Nightwing but Please."

Duke does actually get some votes for himself (included for sake of completeness) and he's not going to lie, shit hurts. Although some of the comments are just to the effect of "Bright :(", which does make him laugh.

There are plenty of votes for Batman (expected), Spoiler/Batgirl (expected but he's mad about it), the Robins (Fair), and a handful for Batgirl/Batgirl.

(Those seem to mostly be from goons complaining about her efficiency and how scary she is, Duke thinks they may have missed the point of the survey.)

-

At the end he compiles it all, gleefully makes a powerpoint, and bounds into Family Saturday Dinner™ with a ultra short throw projector and a dream.

The noise of the dining room doesn't dim even as Duke clears his throat, typical. It's when he starts speaking, clear and even, that people stop waging their personal wars.

"Most Annoying Bat, as voted by the people of Gotham," Duke anounces.

"A vote? By the people of Gotham?" Jason says, his voice strangled. "You mean the thing that killed me?"

"Number three: Batman."

It's here that all hell finally breaks loose.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-one of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“Sure,” Tim says in a mostly-reasonable imitation of a normal person who is not in a good ten feet over their head, taking the seat Kon left him. Kon flashes him another grin and unzips his jeans. He is still wearing his suit underneath them. It still does not even slightly matter to Tim’s stupid idiot hormones. 

He tries not to stare at Kon stripping off his boots and jeans, but absolutely, undeniably fails. The situation is not improved when Kon turns his back towards him and smirks back over his shoulder at him. 

“Unzip me?” he asks, the bastard. Tim does not in any way believe he needs the help unzipping his suit, but also Tim is a stupid idiot with stupid idiot hormones and he does, in fact, lean forward on the bench and reach up to do so. He pulls Kon’s zipper down his spine and, miraculously, does not spontaneously combust in the process. 

New information: Kon doesn’t wear any kind of underlayer under his suit. At least not over his torso, anyway. Which Tim supposes shouldn’t be a surprise, but certainly is something he’s noticing right now. 

He can’t even decide if he’s hoping for him to be wearing underwear or not. He should be hoping for him to be wearing it, given they’re here to try on clothes and that’s therefore kind of necessary, but . . . 

Kon strips the rest of his suit off. He is, unfortunately, wearing boxer briefs. Very small and very tight boxer briefs, but boxer briefs all the same. Tim tries not to stare at Kon’s ass and then immediately encounters the larger problem of accidentally looking at Kon’s reflection in the changing room mirror, which offers the opportunity to stare at other things that belong to Kon. Like his chest. And his abs. And his Adonis belt and–

Fuck his life, Tim thinks feelingly, barely resisting the urge to cover his eyes before he can embarrass himself. He’s already embarrassing himself; it is way too damn late for anything like that to help. 

“What should I try on first?” Kon asks. Tim, in mute panic, grabs the first thing off the top of the pile and shoves it at him. Kon, unfortunately, accepts it. 

More unfortunately, it turns out to be a very clingy black T-shirt with a very deep V-neck. Kon doesn't have actual cleavage, obviously, but that T-shirt has not gotten the memo. 

And apparently neither have his pecs. 

Fuck, Tim thinks with great feeling, still barely resisting the urge to cover his eyes. Fuuuuuck. 

“Hmmm,” Kon says, tugging at the dip of the V-neck with a finger. “What do you think? My color or naw?” 

Tim is suffering. There is a hell and he is currently in it, right here and now. 

“Black isn’t a particularly daring color choice, most people look good in it,” he says, clearing his throat. “The fit’s nice, though.” 

“Fair enough,” Kon says, plucking at the collar again and then stripping the shirt off. While facing Tim. Directly. So Tim therefore has a front-row seat to his bare abs stretching and flexing and–

Jesus. Just–Jesus. 

“Next?” Kon asks, holding out an expectant hand and smirking at him. 

Bastard. 

Tim, in vengeance, hands over the leather pants. It immediately backfires, because Kon just smirks wider and steps right into them, and in fact the process of watching Kon get into leather pants is . . . well, it's a fucking process, alright. And then Tim is alone in a changing room with a shirtless Kon in very tight leather pants and absolutely no one else around to interrupt. Not a single convenient supervillain attack to be seen. 

Fuck, Tim reflects with great feeling. 

“Guess this still isn’t a very daring color choice, huh?” Kon asks, tugging casually at his own waistband. Tim's teeth would also like to do that, please. Like. He has never done that to anyone's waistband in his life, but he would like to start. Right now, ideally. “Maybe I should've gone for something else.” 

“They look alright,” Tim says, desperately trying not to choke and die. He may or may not have had to put one of the shopping bags in his lap. Kon seems unconcerned and just twists to check out his ass in the mirror. His ass which is in very tight black leather. With belts. And buckles. 

And straps. 

Tim is disproportionately fixated on the straps, maybe. 

“Take a picture, it'll last longer,” Kon tells him with a smug grin. 

“I . . . kinda want to?” Tim admits helplessly, then winces at himself. Oh, that was the literal opposite of smooth. Kon laughs anyway, though.

“Oh do you now,” he purrs teasingly. “Is that why you were so concerned about getting me a phone with a good camera, pretty boy?” 

“. . . technically it only matters if my phone has a good camera in that situation,” Tim points out, and Kon actually pouts at him. It’s clearly a put-on, since he’s still half-smirking, but it’s a pout all the same. 

“Aw, you don't want me to send you any pics, Tim?” he asks. 

Tim might be, like, dead now. That might be a thing. He might just be dead. 

“Uh,” he says, blinking rapidly a few times in a desperate attempt to make his brain do literally anything but go down that particular avenue.

“These are a little tight, though,” Kon muses casually as he looks back down to the pants in the mirror, and then smooths a hand down his thigh because he apparently wants Tim to die. The bright fluorescent lights glint across his earring and make those inhumanly blue eyes even more undeniably inhumanly blue, and also make all his muscle definition all very, very visible. 

Technically, Kon has muscles like these because he's a genetically-enhanced half-alien who's all jacked up on solar power. Tim is perfectly aware of that fact. A normal unenhanced human being built like this would probably need an assist from steroids and a ridiculously-specialized diet and to basically never leave the gym. And also probably they'd be at least a little bit dehydrated, to look this cut. 

Tim can tell himself all that all that he likes, but Kon still looks like the bodybuilder edition of Playgirl right now. 

“Since when do you mind tight?” he asks. 

“I don't,” Kon says, sparing him another smirk. “But if I didn't make sure to keep my TTK on them 24/7, they'd probably rip. Leather's a little less forgiving than spandex, you know?” 

Tim is fairly sure Kon said some words after “rip”, but fuck if he could tell anyone. He couldn't tell anyone with a gun to his head. He couldn't tell Batman. 

Fucking hell. 

“Then I'll buy you another pair,” he says reflexively. Kon laughs, ducking his head. He is still shirtless. Very, very shirtless. 

“Man, I don't care what you think you owe me, you cannot possibly wanna buy me this much stuff,” he says. 

Tim tries to figure out how to say “you're my teammate and ally and you deserve to be somewhere safe and taken care of and have everything you need” without actually saying “you're my teammate and ally and you deserve to be somewhere safe and taken care of and have everything you need”. It's difficult, mostly because the alternate and equally true answer is “I think I'm kind of getting off on this, actually”. Which is actually kind of weird and questionable of him even if Kon is flirting with him and acting kind of–

Yeah, he really needs to stop being weird about this. 

“I have the money,” he says reasonably. “It’s not any harder for me than using your powers is for you. And I like doing it.” 

“You like doing it?” Kon says, tilting his head. Possibly Tim should’ve phrased that differently. Or just not said it at all, more like. 

“Yeah,” he says, then quickly changes the subject in self-defense. “And you did me a favor. I want to pay it back.” 

“There’s ‘paying it back’ and there’s ‘signing a lease’, man,” Kon says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Like, you offered me an apartment.” 

“If you’d let me I’d give you a fully-furnished apartment, bills and expenses, and an allowance,” Tim says wryly, and belatedly realizes that last one maybe sounds a little bit patronizing or weird when Kon–pauses.

“An allowance?” he repeats, just barely frowning. 

“Yes,” Tim says, because fuck it, he’s committed now and trying to backtrack would just make it more awkward. If he acts like that was a normal offer to make, maybe Kon will buy it. It’s not like he doesn’t know his initial socialization and education came from a bunch of weird nerds in a lab. “You know, rent and bills and groceries and a little extra, so you don’t have to call me up every time you want something.” 

“Because I saved your life?” Kon says, fidgeting with the button of his pants for a moment. Tim pretends not to notice. Pretends very hard not to notice. It’s . . . arguably a success. Maybe. 

“Yes,” Tim lies. Kon’s saved his life plenty of times; it’s really not relevant to wanting to see him actually properly taken care of and not just ditched in a lab without any damn windows in it. 

Seriously. Kon is solar-powered and Cadmus is underground. What advantage-taking idiots thought he belonged there? 

“Just that?” Kon asks, biting his lip. Tim . . . pauses. 

That’s a weird question, he thinks. It is, right? 

He’s not sure how to answer it. He lies to Batman, so that’s not a concern, but . . .

But. 

“Not just that,” he says after a moment, and just . . . doesn’t elaborate. Kon reddens a little, and then, weirdly, smiles a little. Tim does his damnedest to deal with the sight of him half-in civilian clothes and looking very, very touchable. Just–very close and touchable. He could just . . . reach right out. And touch him. 

Kon’s just . . . very close right now, is all. Like . . . very, very close. 

Fuck. 

“Hi,” Kon says with a little smile, then steps forward right in-between Tim’s knees still half-dressed in black leather and belts and buckles and straps. Tim almost falls off the bench. 

“Hi?” he tries. He very suddenly feels like he might be cooking in his own skin and maybe needs a couple decades to recover before he actually does die here. Because he definitely feels like he's about to die right now, oh god. Did Ivy pollen the mall? Maybe Ivy pollened the mall. Maybe–

Kon leans down over him and into his personal space, and Tim ends up with his back pressed against the changing room wall. 

Nope, never mind. This is all him. This is exclusively a Tim problem. All Tim all the way. All Tim all the time. 

Fuuuuuck.

“Uh,” he chokes in mortification, feeling his face absolutely burn. Kon braces a hand against the wall and very literally bats his eyes at him, the fucking bastard. He is . . . so attractive. So, so attractive. Like every kind of attractive Tim can currently envision and then some. Why is he so attractive? Why is he this far up in Tim’s space? Why is he–

Oh, fuck, Tim thinks. 

“Oh my god, I in no way meant to make you think this was, like, a condition or–!” he starts to sputter in horror, and Kon cuts him off by putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him up tighter against the wall with a very, very pleased smirk. 

“Shut up and kiss me, you weird little nerd,” he says, and then leans in close enough to be kissed, his eyes soft and half-lidded and mouth still curved into that same pleased smirk. Tim’s brain shorts out entirely. Tim’s brain effectively electrocutes itself, actually. 

Oh god, he thinks feebly. 

He can’t kiss Kon, obviously. That would be a very stupid thing to actually do. Flirting and joking around is one thing, but actually kissing him . . . 

Kon bites his lip, a little flicker of uncertainty reflecting in his eyes. Tim has been in literal death traps that were less upsetting than that little flicker. 

“Okay,” he manages, useless and breathless, and then–like an idiot–kisses him.

[aardvaark]

Throughout leverage we see multiple different people driving the team/groups. Parker with the "I was taught to run from the cops", Sophie with the "taxi driver in Istanbul (citation needed)", Eliot with "I am getting us there in 5 minutes or less"... So what is your headcanon for how they decide who drives? Does Nate have a specific set of criteria where he picks who drives? Do they argue about who drives?

well, a lot of places they go, they need minimum two vehicles: hardison's van for tech (i think its only got two actual seats, though im sure people have had to sit in the back & get thrown around lol) and at least one car for other people/general driving. hardison tends to drive lucille so thats one down. if eliot's around to drive, he's probably driving the second car. if not, then nate, then sophie, then parker*. when hardison isn't driving lucille, he's probably as likely to drive as nate or sophie. and when tara's there, i doubt she has driving privileges lol.

in s1, i doubt they're carpooling much. like, they'd drive from their homes to the hq to the job themselves, and only go in the same car to do some quick task. later, they treat nate's apartment as home base and are frequently there for very little reason lmao, so thats when they actually have to plan more about who drives. obviously it heavily depends on how many cars are required and who's doing what. but. it seems like it's often nate driving with sophie as passenger, eliot driving himself or with parker as passenger, and hardison driving himself or with parker as passenger.

*detailed explanation of their individual driving under the cut:

parker is a genuinely great getaway driver, so her skills are useful in that type of situation... but i think 99% of the time, when they're not requiring a quick getaway, she is BANNED from driving. sophie even said so somewhere in s3, i dont remember exactly. canonically she can drive perfectly normally too (eg her driving with tara in the s2 finale) to be fair. she just doesnt want to lol. the stuff she has in her own car (both useful items and "decoration") is somewhat disturbing and very confusing. a lot of it is sharp. or a chemical hazard.

sophie drives sometimes but her driving can be... questionable, occasionally (ie big bang job). the (alleged) fact she learnt to drive from a taxi driver in istanbul seems to imply she didn't learnt to drive later than most, when she was traveling a lot? her attitude of "if i'm doing my job right, the mark just turns off the alarm for me" makes me think she'd apply the same logic here and would've done more hitchhiking & public transport than driving when she was first starting out, but over time got herself a car and learnt to drive because its kinda a safety thing in her line of work (need a getaway). all this to say, she can drive and she might have a nice car but its not her priority, you know?

nate drives sophie, some mix of her thinking its chivalrous and him having some ingrained ideas about male gender roles, but also just personal preferences. and a little bit because hes seen some of her questionable driving choices. once they're together, this changes to a more even split. also nate is def a backseat driver (like, regardless of who's driving/their skill level) and has been kicked out of a car at least once.

hardison is also mostly fine to drive or not drive like sophie. he'll bicker with eliot about who drives but mostly that's just an extension of their ongoing bickering saga. every time one of his lucilles gets exploded or whatever, he has a period of mourning and takes a couple weeks before he'll let other people drive the next incarnation of lucille - and to be fair thats usually because one of them was responsible for killing lucille.

eliot doesn't let other people drive his car (unless its absolutely necessary for a con - see: the boost job). he only begrudgingly lets people IN his car because SOMEONE spilled slushie all over it one time and yes he will continue to bring that up a decade later, hardison. i think being around the team has made him become one of those people who has strict rules for being in his car lol - no food/drink, no leaving anything in the car that doesnt have to be there. obviously the team break these rules all the time.

and the definition of what is a "necessity" and can therefore stay in the car is a BIG ongoing debate. some items of interest on the "necessity" list: gift wrapping paper, one (1) shiny thing, a gaming console, chloroform, a neatly packed bag of spare clothes, at least one dress hanging up with a dust cover, 3-5 CDs (which must be individually approved before being added to the car and only one of which can be christmas-related), spare reading glasses, cables that eliot annoyingly can't veto because he doesn't understand that stuff enough to argue, aluminium foil, and a pack of hair ties.

some things that have been BANNED: food & drink, glitter (there was an incident), nail polish (there was more than one incident), most tech stuff ("that's why you have lucille!"), secret money stashes, anything considered priceless by art experts, "surprises", and live animals.

i would love a road trip episode where most/all of them are taking turns driving and are stuck together in a vehicle for ages. also i now have the urge to go through the series and actually chart who drives.

lol thank you very much for the ask and ik the length is crazy but i hope this is a good answer haha.

[schrodinger-swriter]

I know i disappeared for a while but im back and my brain is stuck on the idea of winged characters with a reader whos afraid of heights, i know you take up to 4 characters at a time so could you try this with, adam, lucifer, lute, and husk if thats alright? feel free to ignore :]

-🎸

Adam, Lucifer, Lute and Husk x Reader who is afraid of heights

As this is the first post to contain more than four characters, I'm unsure of how long this will actually end up being... though I hope you enjoy, Anon!

LUCIFER:

He's fairly respectful of your discomforts, opting to not carry you off unless it is absolutely necessary. As in.. unless he needs to scoop you up to get you out of trouble, he's going to keep your feet firmly planted on the ground. The only time he may slip up is if he rushes at you and twirls you around with him in the air... in a hug, slightly taking you off the ground in a moment of excitement for one reason or another. Though, that hardly counts as flying, does it? Very giggly, though he does put you down as soon as you start stiffening, mumbling out apologies.. I do think at some point he might try to help you face your fear so he can show you things.

ADAM:

I would like to take a moment to apologize to the Adam fans, but I do think he would be a douchebag. Either he would downplay it or he would think you being scared of heights is.. rather pathetic. Bonus if you have wings yourself. Now does he go out of his way to make you shake in fear and lock up? No, but sometimes he does tease you about it, kind of egging you on to join him if you have wings yourself. He doesn't really thing it's that serious, so there's going to need to be a discussion between the two of you to set hard boundaries.

LUTE:

She doesn't think much of it. Does she think you should get over your fear so you have the option to flee with her in the form of flight when you need to be taken out of a dangerous situation? Oh definitely. But she might just do that regardless of if it scares you or not. Your safety trumps your comfort, in her eyes. Which... is fair.. it's harsh but it's understandable. Similar to Lucifer she's not going to force you, but she is open to helping you lean into it. She does find it a little hard to relate, or to be... sensitive. Of course she does, she isn't scared of flight and there aren't many things that give her pause. Perhaps this could be a moment for her to understand other people and how they work, as opposed to always being this killing machine?

HUSK:

He... to put it as nicely as he can.. Does not care. It's not his business and he doesn't fly much himself unless he needs it to do a task. If anything he mostly uses his wings to give himself a little boost on the battle field, and perhaps even as a makeshift shield? Point being, he is not much of a flyer unless it's needed. He's not going to make fun of your fear, but he is going to begrudgingly help you if you want to get over it. He doesn't get excited much, at least not to the extent that would have him twirling you in the air like Lucifer would.. The most indifferent to it out of these four.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

remembering again the full extent of what forever is

Ao3 | 3.6k Words | William's POV

TW: Blood and injury, angst, hurt no comfort, self deprication and hatred, intimidation and threats of harm/death.

“Solaire.” David Shaw’s voice was steady on the other end of the line, even as William heard the not so muffled sounds of rowdy wolves in the background. “This is a courtesy call. Doesn’t have to be anything more.”

"Alpha Shaw," William replied, "what can I do for you?"

“I just kicked the shit out of one of yours.”

_

Alexis makes another play for Sam after finding out he is leaving the House of Solaire. David intercepts. William cleans up his mess, fifteen years late.

William Solaire is not a kind man.

William had a cellphone, but he rarely ever used it. It was mostly for the purpose of reaching his few, non-clan contacts. His most common calls were to the Department, hour long affairs of waiting on hold, talking in circles, and nearly pulling his hair out trying to get even the simplest things done. 

So, when he heard the insistent buzz of his phone somewhere in his office while taking his morning (evening) coffee, he was surprised. Most people didn’t call him. He had clan members who vetted and handled most communication coming in to him, sorting out what was pointless, what could be handled by lower ranking members of the House, and what actually needed to go to him. There were only a few people who had his direct phone number. His progeny, both of whom were avoiding him. Samuel, who was avoiding him even more than Vincent and Alexis were.  Porter, who would only call if he were in a situation he truly couldn’t get himself out of, which was unlikely, seeing as he was in Skyside for a short vacation after the business at the Summit. 

He had fumbled with his coffee, opening every drawer in his desk before finally finding it under a stack of file folders on the bottom right. He huffed and answered the call just as it was about to be sent to voicemail. 

“Solaire.” David Shaw’s voice was steady on the other end of the line, even as William heard the not so muffled sounds of rowdy wolves in the background. Will didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this particular outcome. Most likely because he and Shaw rarely if ever communicated directly. Their territory agreements were initially set in place by Shaw’s father, whom William had known professionally for many years before his death. It was out of respect for Gabriel Shaw that William made no move to encroach on Shaw territory after he died. It would have been too easy. Such a young alpha, so inexperienced, and riddled with grief. He had instead allowed David Shaw the time to grow into an alpha in his own right, subsisting off of more than just his father’s memory. It was a wise investment. The Shaws were a valuable ally to have, even if that allyship was becoming tenuous due to his actions at the summit. They were valuable, but fatally mortal. Shaw and his pack were not built to understand William’s thoughts and actions. He thought that a kindness of sorts. “This is a courtesy call. Doesn’t have to be anything more.” 

“Alpha Shaw.” William spoke to David Shaw with respect, just as he had his father, just as he did during their first meeting. Even that broken, snappy young man had always been called ‘Alpha’ in William’s presence. “What can I do for you?” He checked his watch, a beautiful, green faced thing that Vincent had bought for him. He had forgotten that. He blinked and refocused. It was nearing midnight. Too late for the Shaws to be incredibly active. 

“I just kicked the shit out of one of yours.” 

While they didn’t speak frequently, William had had his fair share of conversations with Shaw over the years. He had never heard him speak like this, or indeed sound so angry, so outraged. 

Will’s cold heart seized in his chest. 

“Samuel?” William breathed, but felt foolish as soon as the name left his lips. Shaw audibly scoffed. Of course not. For one thing, Samuel was no longer a member of his clan. For another, he was the mate of one of Shaw’s wolves. If he did anything to hurt his mate, William could see Shaw protecting his own over Samuel, but from what he knew about the man, Shaw wasn’t the punishment type. 

“No.” Shaw snapped. “Alexis.” 

“Ah.” William sighed. That pounding of fear and pain in his chest from an hour or so prior. Alexis got into trouble often, and his connection to her pain had distanced over the last fifty years. It certainly wasn’t as present as Vincent’s still was, as the echoes of his own progeny’s emotions were. Betrayal, sweet and cloying, still sat heavily in his throat. “That, I will admit, makes more sense.” 

“She’s drunk.” Shaw replied. “At least… Sam says she’s drunk. I don’t know how it works for vampires.” 

“It’s possible.” William confirmed. “She must have fed from another vampire.” 

“Yeah.” Shaw ground out. “She certainly did. She stepped foot on my territory. I’m entitled to defend it and my pack.” 

“Absolutely.” William said. He ran his hand over his face and fought not to sigh straight into the phone’s receiver. Stupid. She was now his only heir and she was encroaching on tenuous ally’s territory. She would be the death of him. 

“If you’d like to collect her, I’m looking right at her. Or I can hand her over to D.U.M.P..” 

“I’ll be there momentarily.” 

The Shaw den was well known to him. He had never been inside himself, but most of Dahlia was split between their two groups in terms of territory. The den was familiar to him as he was sure Wonder World was familiar to David. He carried a healthy level of suspicion and respect about the place, just like he did the people who inhabited it. Power respects power. Like calls to like. 

He knocked. It felt silly to knock. He entered every room with the certainty of his presence. He rarely had occasion to knock, but it would most likely be uncouth to appear inside of the den unannounced when they’d been attacked by someone bearing his blood mere hours earlier. Shaw’s Beta answered. He’d met the man once before, but was embarrassed to say that he couldn’t remember his name. The wolf grinned and stepped aside, ushering him in. 

“She’s healing already.” The Beta reported. “I’m sure she’ll be good by sunrise, given how much blood Sammy says she must have drunk.” 

It was uncomfortable to hear the endearment on the wolf’s lips. He shook off the instinct to demand respect for his Duke. Samuel wasn’t his Duke anymore. 

“I have no doubt that she’ll recover.” William smiled politely. The Beta had a casual air about him, but William could feel the raised hackles of every wolf they passed on the way to the Alpha’s office. It wasn’t an unusual sensation for William. He was, more often than not, the most powerful being in any room.

They rounded a corner to a small corridor of open offices, and Will spotted Samuel on a plush leather couch, bent over his knees and taking exaggerated breaths. His mate was sat next to him, blood dried over their mouth, rubbing small circles into Samuel’s back. 

Will moved before he even thought. He was knelt before Samuel in an instant, searching for his eyes. He heard the heart rate of every wolf in the room pick up. The Beta stilled and held out a hand. Everyone froze. The only sounds were the hammering of half a dozen hearts and the snarls and growls of Sam’s mate, startled into a defensive position by his sudden movement. 

William didn’t touch. He knew that this wolf’s claim to Samuel was more powerful, more sacred than any he’d ever had. Still, seeing him shake, struggle to breathe, made Will’s throat tight. 

“Samuel,” he said softly. Sam didn’t look up. He could see better from this vantage point. Samuel’s knuckles were bloody but long healed over. There was a mess of red on the side of his neck. 

Alexis had bitten him. 

William felt anger boil in his stomach like acid. He hadn’t felt like this in fifteen years, since the night he’d carried a shaking newborn from Alexis’s house. 

“Oh my boy,” he said softly. He looked up to Sam’s mate, who was swallowing growls and trying not to flash teeth. He could smell Alexis’s- his- blood on them. He shook his head. “I am so sorry. I will deal with her.” 

“You should have already dealt with her.” Samuel’s mate sneered. Sam stiffened. “She fucking bit him.” 

Will didn’t reply to the disrespect. He owed them this. He owed Samuel this moment. He wouldn’t let his damned pride take that from him. 

He stood, let his hand grace over Sam’s hair as his mate’s growls subsided. 

He knocked gently, unnaturally on the Alpha’s office door. 

Shaw was sat at his desk, his face and hair splattered with blood, inspecting his battered knuckles as he stared down Alexis. She was sat across from him in one of the plush, maroon chairs for visitors. William could almost convince himself that she was having a civil meeting, sitting politely with her back to him. As he stepped closer, though, he could see the strange tilt to her head, he could hear her ragged breathing. 

“Solaire.” Shaw nodded, his face grave. He indicated lazily towards Alexis. “She’s fucked up but she’ll live.” 

William rounded the chair and got a good look at Alexis. Most of the minor damage had healed, leaving behind smudges and splatters of blood and dirt where there were once cuts and scrapes. The worst of it, though, was still healing. Someone, most likely Samuel’s mate, had taken a bite out of her neck and shoulder. The meat of her shoulder was oozing blood down her front, staining her torn dress from blood red to black. Her throat was pried open like a clam, the pearl of her exposed trachea fluttering as it tried to maintain its structure. Her blackened eyes were hazy as they glared back at Shaw. Her arms twitched, her inch long, sharpened nails digging into the crushed velvet arm of the chair. Will imagined that, if she had the strength, she’d be biting for anything with a pulse, Shaw included. One of her hands jerked towards him as he came into her line of sight. He took it gently in his own. 

“Your kindness does not go unnoticed.” William replied to Shaw. “And it will not be forgotten. If I may, what exactly happened?” David nodded slowly and ran his fingers through his hair, which had begun to go stiff with blood. 

“Sam was attending a pack meeting.” He said after a moment. “That’s his right. His mate is a member of this pack, so he is too. Your progeny-“ he sneered as he looked at her, “-invited herself. My Beta and I met her at the door and barred her from stepping foot in our den. She was… unsteady. Sam asked for privacy and stepped out to take care of it. His mate followed. By the time I smelled blood she was already on the ground. It took three of us to get my wolf off of her.” 

Alexis coughed and squeezed his hand, her lips curling up in disgust or anger. William couldn’t keep his attention on her face for very long. He didn’t know if it was the echoes of her pain or his own that filled him up when he did. 

“I apologize for my clan’s intrusion on your territory.” 

“And-“ Shaw raised his hand, his face twisting, as though apologizing for the interruption. “-and the intrusion on my pack. Sam is the mate of one of my wolves. That makes him a full fledged member of this pack.” 

William’s brow furrowed. He was well acquainted with vampires’ sometimes antiquated ideas about shifters and other mortal empowered races. The idea that a vampire would lower themself so much as to identify as part of a pack above their own Clan of origin was shameful to many older beings like himself. He couldn’t help the shiver of prideful objection that tried to overtake him. It was his blood in Samuel’s veins. That part of him screamed to draw him back, to collect him away from harm, to have him and understand him and protect him in a way that Shaw never could in his last fifty-odd years on this earth. 

But that was the same instinct that screamed in Alexis to cross territory lines. That was the same instinct inside of her that turned Sam, even when he begged her not to. That possession before love, before respect, before care. That ugly part of her that William punished so readily came from him. 

So he swallowed it down like blood in his throat. Hot and bitter and unkind. Samuel did not belong to him.

“I want to be very clear to you, William.” Shaw continued, his voice teetering on the edge of control. William imagined that it was only the mutual respect the two of them had cultivated that kept Shaw from losing his grasp in decorum entirely at this point. “Sam is mine. He is a member of my pack. He belongs to his mate. And he belongs to me. She touched what is mine . Sam asked me to keep her alive, so I did. But if he had allowed it, I would have killed her, regardless of any allyship.”

“You openly admit your willingness to kill my progeny?” William asked. His voice was purposefully blank of anything that would give away his position on this issue. Shaw was treading on dangerous ground. Many kings had killed for less.

“Yes.” Shaw replied easily, as though he were unaware that that word alone could be the punctuation on his life. Shaw knew it. William could see it in those dark, steady eyes. “In order to make this next part stick in her brain.” Those dark eyes shifted to Alexis, who was struggling to sit up properly in her chair. Her neck was fluttering closed, healing slowly. “If you come onto my territory again, if you hurt a member of my pack, if you so much as look at Sam in a way that displeases me, I won’t take his wishes into consideration. He wants you left alive out of some sense of Maker loyalty? That’s fine. But I won’t let the opinions of a single pack member revoke my right to protect what is mine. Do that shit again, and you’ll meet your end between my teeth. Do you understand?” 

Alexis bared her bloody teeth, gasping down air and blood. 

“He’s mine.” She gasped, voice ragged and popping. “In a way he can never be yours. When you’re dead and gone, he and I will still be here. And when I’m ruling monarch of the House of Solaire, I’ll do what I please with him.” 

Silence rang through the room. William swore he could see Shaw’s teeth grow and sharpen in his mouth. Heat bubbled up in his own chest. Shame burned through him in a way it never had before. 

Will’s hand snaked to the back of Alexis’ neck, cradled her nape in a gentle hold. He had made the decision before she even finished talking. 

“Alexis will never have her invocation rights returned to her.” William said softly. Two sets of predator’s eyes snapped to him. “I will give my own ability to invoke her to Vincent.” 

“ Vincent ?” Alexis screached, jerking under his hand. He held fast, his nails digging into the tender flesh. 

“He is a closer ally to the Shaw pack than he is to me, now.” A rueful smile curled around his elongated fangs. “Should something happen to me and Alexis become monarch of the House, someone outside of her control will hold her invocation rights. Vincent is a kind man, and will not abuse that ability over her. And he loves Sam. More and better than I was ever capable of.” William cut his gaze to Shaw. “Is this satisfactory?” Shaw stared him down, unblinking, and unafraid of a trance or threat. It was rare for another empowered person to meet his eye. He supposed that was why he had always liked Shaw so much. He was unafraid of William’s power, but not ignorant of it. 

“That’s a big thing to give up.” Shaw sighed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I find it hard to believe that you would hand over any power, let alone something so… useful.” His lips curled around the word with disgust. Shaw was far from the first mortal to find invocations distasteful. Wolves. They so valued their freedom, their democracy. Short sighted, fast fading, mortal creatures. William had seen Shaw’s father pass through life in the blink of an eye. Shaw would do the same. Already, his brow was creased with premature worry lines. The quiet, twenty-year-old Beta had become the intimidating, thirty-year-old Alpha would become an old man would become a body in the ground. He aged, and he would die. He could not protect Sam, not in any meaningful way. In the long run, it would fall to William. This was the least he could do for Sam, who he had failed in so many ways, so many times. 

“I care for Sam more than I value this power.” He admitted softly. “And… I am more ashamed of my progeny’s actions than words can describe.” He folded his hand over his chest and bowed his head. William had not bowed to anyone in centuries, not since his Maker had forced him to. William knew with a frightful certainty when his Maker’s blood had adorned his body like a brand new, tailored suit that he would bow to no one ever again. And yet here he was, his head inclined, his back bending under the weight of his progeny’s actions, his actions. Shaw sucked in a breath as Alexis jerked. He knew how rare this was. “I beg the forgiveness of your pack and its Alpha.” Shaw bristled under the formality. 

“Yeah well…” he huffed. “Get her off of my land and keep her off.” 

“Happily.” 

Shaw left the office to move Samuel away before William and Alexis made their leave. Sam didn’t deserve to hear her screeching as she spat venom into Will’s face, into the face of his only ally left in this town. WillIan’s gaze froze her in her spot even as she craned to catch sight of Samuel through the door as Shaw left. The shadow of Shaw’s imposing figure blocked his pack from their view. 

“I think,” William said softly, his voice stilling Alexis’ frantic movements, “that it is time to reorder my Court.” 

Alexis finally fell into silence. She blinked up at him owlishly, her blackened eyes brimming with… something. Anger, perhaps. Or grief. 

“What?” She breathed. He brushed his knuckles against her throat and let what little magic he could externalize flow into her. His magic knew hers, had known hers for fifty years now, as well as it knew himself. It was his blood in her veins, afterall. Everything that she was he had been, he was. 

Her wounds closed over slowly. She winced at the sting of his magic, rarely ever used to heal. Samuel would have made easy work of those injuries. William wondered if someone had stopped him from healing her. He doubted that Sam would have let an injury lie unless under direct order from his mate or his Alpha. 

He was so good. And it was Alexis’s blood in him. It was William’s.  

“You do not want to rule a House.” He replied. “Not truly. You want power over those around you. And you want the freedom to do what you please. But you cannot have both. To carry power over others is to be tied to them, to belong to them. That is something you have never understood.” 

“Will-“

“It would be a kindness, I think,” he said, “to save you from the burden of the crown.” He bent to lift her up into his arms, cradled her head until it rested, limply, against his shoulder. She spasmed for a moment but eventually gave in to his hold. He was reminded of a night decades ago, holding a slight, bloody thing in his arms in the woods outside of his territory. She fought his every touch, his every kindness. He remembered, even then, even in the dying tilt of her, the hunger that rang through every bone. That was there before him, but it was so familiar she might have inherited it. Perhaps that was why he had turned her. Perhaps that was why he had allowed her to live after what she did to Samuel. Perhaps that was why she had remained on his court, in his line of succession. 

No more. William Solaire was not a kind man, least of all to himself. The parts of him that had bled for Alexis stopped here, in this room, in an unfamiliar office in the territory of the only ally he had left, an ally he might have strengthened or lost tonight. 

“You are my progeny.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head through her blood-matted hair. “I will care for you for the rest of your life.” He closed his eyes to his next words, let them wash over her unobserved. He owed her this, at least this. “But if you touch Samuel again, Shaw won’t have to kill you. I will do it myself.” 

He carried her home, tucked into his arms and weeping. He prayed that, come morning, his progeny would still be his, that the ache in his chest- her chest- would ease. He prayed that, one day, he would pay back all that he owed. 

For all of his riches, he doubted he would ever wrap his hands around enough. That, William thought, had always been his problem.

[l-in-the-light]

Why is Law so afraid to be used and hates to be ordered around ? I think of the scenes in Wano where Kid makes fun of Law being Luffys subordinate.

I love when I get asks casually giving me the biggest questions I had since the first time I reread those scenes haha. Keep them coming!

There's no direct answer to this question stated anywhere in the manga, at least for now. But we can read a lot between the lines. So let's dive in! And I mean it when I say we will take a dive, because I brought up every. single. scene in which Law complains to be ordered around! We will try to find a common pattern here. But first, let's start from "afraid to be used and hates orders" part:

Most important reason is Doflamingo. No surprise here that he's the one behind Law's fear.

We know Law recruited himself into his family and even tells Cora-san he wants to be "Doflamingo's subordinate" and that "he doesn't have to listen to Corazon" because of that.

And we know as well how Doflamingo operates. He grooms his subordinates to die for him. It might be the first time Law heard about that here and it clearly terrified him, he understands that Doflamingo would keep him around just because he obeys him, like an useful tool, not even human.

In comparison, Cora-san showed him compassion and love. It means a lot to Law, who felt he was no longer considered human by other people because of his disease. And here he learns Doflamingo, a person Law somewhat respected, who defended him in front of others who feared to be in the same room as him, would actually also not see him as a human. This must have been a major blow to Law, breaking his trust, yet again, in other people.

Now let's take a look at that:

That's what Doflamingo tells Monett and Vergo to do, just "die for him". That's how he would have groomed Law as well, if Law stayed with him, he would teach him obedience and to follow his orders, just so Law would be ready to sacrifice his own life as well, one day.

And here we have Bellamy, who would also do just about anything to earn Doflamingo's respect, even if it means dying for him. It's possible Law's mercy for Bellamy is related to this: Law was also once in that position himself. And Law would do everything not to be in that position ever again.

Now let's take a look at Law giving orders himself. He does it but only to people he considers lower in hierarchy than him and mostly to protect their lives. He made an equal alliance with Strawhats and in general he tries his best not to give them orders (he does those funny suggestions instead). There's one exception for it though: if situation truly requires it and there's no other option, he will give an order, just like Luffy.

Meanwhile he himself isn't really great at obeying rules and following orders. How many times has he broken the law of blood while staying with Doflamingo's Family?

He doesn't like other people making decisions for him, especially if he doesn't feel ready for whatever they try to make him do.

The "Don't tell me what to do" attitude. To be fair, Luffy's triggered by that as well. They both don't like it when others decide things for them. For Luffy it also applies to setting destination for adventures, Luffy always wants to be the one to decide that himself.

And finally, we reach the very first scene when Law says it outloud: don't order him around! Please notice though that Kid and Luffy say basically the same thing, yet Law directs his complaint only to Kid. He's fine with Luffy saying the same thing, curious, ain't it?

Again, Law is complaining to Kid to stop ordering him. Law's the one who will decide what he wants to do.

And again, complaining to Kid.

One time he complains to Zoro, but this time not because he feels like he's ordered around. He feels like he's a babysitter, constantly having to support others instead of focusing on his own fight. Well, Law, everyone knows you're actually their babysitter in this alliance, a bit late to complain. And yet, despite complaining, he never denies the Strawhats and does what he's told anyway.

"I won't let it slip this time" says Law outloud for some reason, which is very uncharacteristic of him. It's almost like he's doing it for the show.

Let's sum it up so far: Law complains 3 times to Kid, once to Luffy, and once to Zoro (about babysitting in the last case). And let's take a look in which scenes he actually does what he's told to do without complaining:

This time he doesn't even comment on it, just takes Zoro and shambles out.

Zoro tells him he counts on him. Curiously enough it's the exact same phrase Law used all the way back in Dressrosa when he asked Cavendish to just leave him to rot (Cavendish didn't agree with that).

That's just from Wano, because no matter how much I searched, there was literally no scene in Punk Hazard or Dressrosa when Law complained about people ordering him around. None at all. Despite Luffy destroying his plans, dragging him forcefully through half of Dressrosa, and then undermining their ultimate strategy to take down Doflamingo, the only complaints Law had was "what about my cuffs??" and "we will have to face against a very furious emperor!".

And this here, when Luffy decides against what Law told him. Law did get his revenge when he later shambled himself with Luffy's position, just like he originally wanted, instead of shambling himself next to Luffy to do a combined attack (which would have been more effective!). But it was payback, and payback was important.

And then we have this scene, in which he just voices his feelings outloud instead.

Now that we have gathered all the necessary evidence, I will share my interpretation of this: Law has no problem usually with Luffy, even when Luffy acts really selfish, destroys his plans and Law has to babysit him. He simply takes it like a man, without complaining about his fate that he chose for himself after all (Law was the one to propose the alliance in the first place, he knows the responsibility is his!).

Curiously enough Law also has no problem with Luffy in Sabaody. That might be because he feels grateful to him there, after all he even gives half the credit for freeing Jean Bart to Luffy. Luffy might have gotten them into trouble in the first place, but Law instead thanks him "for showing him something interesting". That "something interesting" wasn't only about punching Celestial Dragon, but also defending Hachi when people around were afraid of him and crying out bullshit like "he will spread diseases! Don't come closer!!". Law heard those phrases as well when Corazon was searching for cure to Law's amber lead syndrome. It probably triggered a flashback for him. Seeing Luffy punch a Celestial Dragon and with that punch also defending Hachi must have reminded Law of what Corazon did back then as well: punching some doctors for Law. Law probably "let it slip" when Luffy said the same thing as Kid, because he was simply grateful. Meanwhile, he doesn't want to owe anything to Kid or be grateful to a person who talked shit about Law behind his back.

Okay, but then what about Wano. What's Law's problem in Wano all of a sudden??

His problem has a name. That name is Eustass Kid. As soon as Kid became part of the raid, Law is behaving differently and complaining about being ordered around. He comments stuff outloud, he starts to openly compete, he makes a big show of getting angry at Luffy for ordering him around (which he never did before!), complains he's a babysitter... and as soon as Kid is gone to fight Big Mom, Law is back to his normal behaviour again. For me this proves that if Kid wasn't there, Law wouldn't even say that line in the first place.

Let's take a look again at this scene:

Law is complaining to Luffy while making sure their eyes are on same level. He's basically saying "this is an alliance, we're equals, don't give me orders in front of Kid, it makes me look bad". Kid is an outsider, Law has bad beef with him ever since Sabaody, he wants Luffy to be more mindful about Law's own feelings here. Funny thing is, Luffy quickly gets the drift, proposes the stupid chicken game which actually works on freaking Eustass Kid which surprises Law.

Just look at him looking at Kid. Luffy ended up being involved in the conflict between Kid and Law, and took Law's side in it, but not in an obvious way: he made it a competition for all three of them, yet pulled a move on Kid that he couldn't refuse. Luffy is pretty smart at reading people and he basically put Kid back in line here, but he did it only because Law complained. That's because in their alliance Law and Luffy always has each other's backs, and Luffy proves it yet again, not leaving Law alone with this.

So actually Luffy's reaction of "How does that even matter?!" is very justified, because it's literally the first time ever that Law complained about "following orders" to him. And he figured out the reason fast: it was because of Kid's presence.

Now let's dig into one more thing. Kid clearly plays with the idea that Law and Luffy are so close that they seem like they're in one crew. But the way he phrases it is very offensive: he suggests Law is Luffy's subordinate, just like Law was once a subordinate to Doflamingo (again, not bringing up any fond memories here). Meanwhile Law tries to make a point: they're equal, no one is above the other. Luffy actually also minds the "subordinate" part as we can see from his "WHAT" reaction there. He doesn't like the term subordinate nor the term scrub either. For Luffy, his crew are his friends, they're equal most of the time (the only time Luffy actually uses his right as the captain is when he chooses which island to visit or who to fight), they sleep in one room, they do chores all together, damn, his crew can even punish Luffy if he does something stupid that endangers them! Luffy's crewmates are definitely not his subordinates, not in Luffy's eyes at the very least. Is Kid just mean here by calling them "subordinates" or does he actually think of his own crew as subordinates and that's why he uses that word here? Who knows, Kid likes to be full of shit, so maybe he said it knowing exactly well what effect his teasing will have. But he is right about one thing: Law and Luffy in Wano really work together like they're one crew.

Last important thing: Law is a captain and he learned long time ago from Wolf (his father figure he respected a lot, who gifted him the submarine): captain has the image to uphold and responsibility over his crew. Law has his own crew, Heart Pirates, and he doesn't want to be seen as incompetent person who can't even make his own decisions. It's about not losing his face in front of others, something that is important to him, and he commented on it as well in Dressrosa when he said he will at least take care of Trebol. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to face his own crew, feeling like he failed them. His crew holds him in very high regard and he doesn't want to disappoint them, despite the fact he probably isn't sure if he can always meet their expectations.

Yet he tries his best to cooperate with Kid and proposes him a temporary alliance. He dislikes him, he doesn't want to look bad around him, but also he wants the chance to show off/not lose face as well, not leaving everything up to Luffy. But he will remain super petty in his "alliance" with Kid. For example, he won't be talking to him on same eye level, like he does with Luffy. His body language really betrays his feelings towards other people.

Now, you might ask, but why does Law dislike Kid so much? Law doesn't really act nice to strangers in general. Luffy is basically an exception and even then he's almost never cheesy with his words (not counting his big declaration in Dressrosa), instead showing his appreciation of Luffy in not so obvious actions.

But there might be a particular reason why Law is so salty towards Kid in particular. Kid didn't exactly leave a good impression on Law in Sabaody. Not only he talked about him behind his back (and Law could hear that), he also accused him of bad manners. Rewind to Vergo always trying to chastise Law about the exact same thing. Kid voicing it out must have left a really bad aftertaste, so bad that Kid is literally one of the only two people Law flipped off his finger at. Kinda tragicomic, because I think Kid thought he's saying a compliment (he seemed to have a respect for him), but it was completely misunderstood. It might take those two a hundred years to finally talk it out heh.

That's my best shot at analyzing it. Summing it up, Law doesn't like to feel controlled (all thanks to Doflamingo betraying his trust), he's afraid to lose his face in front of his own crew, he doesn't want to be used as a tool (he's fine supporting others in battle, but he wants his own liberty with that and wants others to trust him to make the right judgements), and he also simply hates being ordered around by Kid for a number of complex reasons. Also there's this running theme with Law and his ope-ope fruit and it's ultimate technique. People basically treat Law like disposable goods because of it: only good for performing the operation, even at the cost of Law's own life. All things considered I think it's not so strange that Law gets really nitpicky with any attempt even close to objectifying him, even if people don't mean it that way. On the contrary, every time he doesn't act this way, he shows how much trust he has in his allies or even how willing he is to ignore his own feelings as long as people close to him are fine.

I hope you enjoyed reading about it, anon!

[hockeyboysimagines]

Love so sweet

Pairings: Arber Xhekaj x OC(Tabitha Hawkins)

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angst, toxicity, language.

I know I said I wasn’t posting anything new but I have such bad writers block that this was all I could do💁🏼‍♀️ Hope you guys enjoy it🤍

“Well you can either come get your shit or I can light it on fire. Up to you.”

Arber was laughing on the other end of the phone “I’ll come get it later.”

“I’ll leave it on the porch.” She hit the red hang up button before he could answer and chucked her phone on the couch with a loud angry “UGH!”

This was their 100th breakup or something and it got worse and more difficult each time. She had this masochistic complex apparently that made her put herself through this over and over.

When things were good, they were great. When things were bad?

Yikes.

War was more peaceful.

She put the box on the porch and slammed the door, making her way angrily through the house.

She threw herself down on her bed, a bed they’d just been in the day before yesterday and closed her eyes. She could still smell his cologne on her sheets and she wondered how long it would take for it to fade. The breakups never lasted long enough for it to go away before he was back in it, and sometimes she wondered if it would be easier to stay broken up if she wasn’t reminded of him every night they weren’t together. The longest stretch of time, a week a half, hadn’t been enough to get rid of it even with two washes. She didn’t really want it to fade. It was the only thing that got her through the few days she spent without him.

As crazy as it sounded though, if she had known things would be this way with him she would still go home with him that first night every single time. She loved him, maybe too much, and she would sacrifice her peace if it meant she got to keep him. Not because she didn’t want anyone else to have him, but because she loved Arber more than anything and losing him would be like cutting her own heart out. Messy and painful.

She glanced over at her walls that were full of pictures of her and Arber and she felt hot tears prick at her eyes. Why they couldn’t be like they were in the pictures all the time was beyond her. It wasn’t fair. Things had been going so well lately she supposed she should have seen this coming. She’d heard down the line that Arber had been out at the bar flirting with some girl. It had made her so angry she called him, cursed him out and the blocked his phone number for several hours. When she’d calmed down enough to tell him to come get his things she hasn’t even let him explain himself before she ripped into him again. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t change how she was feeling. She hadn’t even asked him if it was true. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t, but it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it and she was starting to believe it. It was hard, the position she was in with him. Guys before him were just guys. But Arber had an elevated status, especially here in Montreal. Everyone knew him, girls threw themselves at him, and while he never indulged them, it still filled her with anxiety and paranoia every time he went out with the guys and she didn’t go. But when she was there and it happened it enraged her to the point where she wanted to commit a crime. It was a no win situation for everyone but especially her. His teammates, who she knew loved her, assured her till they turned blue that he never even looked at girls and he hadn’t since they met. They told her she was being silly and that they would be truthful with her if he was. She believed them mostly, but it had gotten so bad at one point that Cole and Kirby had showed up at her house and say he’s down to talk with her.

“Tabitha.” Cole said leaning forward “I’m telling you whatever you heard is a lie. I swear on my mother.”

“Yeah I swear on his mother too.” Kirby said bumping her shoulder.

She laughed and wiped under her eyes as Cole continued with a small smile “Arber isn’t fucking any girls and if he was, you can be sure I’d tell you and then beat him up.”

“You’d beat him up PLEASE.” Kirby said rolling his eyes “We’d find someone to beat him up.”

It had made things better for a while but the rumors killed her. She spent more time crying over fake news than she didn’t and she tried to keep most of it to herself but it bubbled over a lot and Arber usually suffered for it. She knew that she was the problem most of the time but it was out of her control now. Arber loved her and she knew it, but she always felt she was on the brink of losing him. But when things were good, she almost forgot the bad. Being with Arber was a gift. He was so wonderful to her and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. She only wished that she believed it like he did.

She felt nauseous, mad, and mentally exhausted. Then, she remembered she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon and the anxiety of the breakup was churning the acid in her stomach like a spoon in coffee, bubbling occasionally to remind her that it could turn into vomit at any minute.

But the idea of getting up and walking to the kitchen made her wanna cry so she stayed put, swallowing down the nausea and closing her eyes. Her weight sank down into her mattress the longer she was there and her stomach began to settle. She was so tired and her eyes slipped closed as she took deep even breaths.

Much better she thought to herself as she felt her nerves begin to die down and she fell back into normal Tabitha, sending Tabitha the raging bitch back to wherever she came from. What a relief. A heavy feeling came over her and she wondered for a second if she would fall asleep. Every time she had one her episodes she got so tired and hoped this time she’d actually fall asleep so she could miss him coming for his things all together.

No such luck of course.

She wasn’t sure how long she was laying there but she heard his truck pull up, and then the sound of a key in the lock so she got up. Was he kidding? She had clearly said his things were on the porch.

She came around the corner and found Arber in the doorway and frowned at him, arms across her chest. “What are you doing? I put your stuff on the porch.” It came out meaner than she meant for it to, and she winced at her own harshness. She was always mad until she saw him and then all her anger went out the window. More than anything she had hoped he would leave and not come in at all so she could be mad and cry in peace.

Of course he didn’t.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the her house key on the table “Returning this.”

Ouch

“Great. Thanks. Bye.” She snapped.

He chuckled “That’s all I get? Okay then. Here’s your stuff.” He pushed a box at her with his foot “I think I got it all. If anything’s missing just text me I guess.”

“Sure.” She said with a shrug knowing she would end up texting him because she was stupid.

The air in her house was awkward and heavy as they stared at each other before he cleared his throat “Well see you. I have somewhere to be.”

“What?”

“I’m going out with the guys.”

Her stomach tightened and she looked at him surprised. It wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then not actually do anything. It also wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then leave early. Both of those things usually coincided with a breakup, and filled Tabitha with anxiety. Though she’d accused him of it on more than one occasion without any real evidence, Arber wasn’t a cheater.

She cleared her throat “Oh? Already. Well I hope you have a good time…where?” She didn’t know why she even asked, because as this was a breakup, she shouldn’t have cared. But not knowing where he was going would fill her with anxiety for the rest of the night.

“Why do you care Tabitha?” He asked holding one hand out.

She shrugged “Just wondering-“

“You broke up with me remember? Why does it matter what I’m doing.” He was frowning at her, eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes didn’t show he was angry. He looked sad. She hated making him sad and she found herself doing it more often than not.

“It doesn’t. Can you just get out now.” She crossed her arms and motioned to the door with her chin. All the rage she’d swallowed down earlier was beginning to bubble back up and she wanted him to leave before she exploded. She hated yelling at him, and always felt like a psycho when it was over. He never called her that, but Tabitha hated the way he looked at her when she was flipping out.

“Absolutely. Don’t call me.” He said with a nod and a step towards the door.

“Ha. I don’t plan on ever calling you again. Enjoy single life.”

“You know I don’t get you.” He stopped and shook his head “You break up with me, tell me to get my stuff and then pick a fight with me.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you. I could care less what you do. Go ruin some other girls life.”

The minute the words left her she regretted them, covering her mouth, and felt even worse when she saw hurt cloud his face. Even though they were broken up, the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. Especially when they were both hurting enough.

He nodded slowly “So I ruined your life yeah? Okay.” He braced a hand on the door handle and turned it.

“That’s not-Arber. That’s not what I meant to say I-“

“Save it. You’ve said enough for me.” He looked upset, not angry and turned away from her but she crossed the floor and stopped him, bracing a hand on the frame to block his way. Realistically he could have moved her arm with a finger and left but he stopped and that gave her hope. Maybe he didn’t want to leave. Or maybe he was going to turn to her and finally tell her he’d had enough of the fighting and wanted to end things for good. That would be her absolute worst nightmare come to life. She wasn’t even sure what she would do if that ever happened.

“I didn’t mean that.” She said looking up at him.

He looked at the wall above her head frowning “But you said it.” He said quietly before he looked down at her “Do you really feel like I ruined your life?”

“No of course I don’t I just said it cuz I was angry and I’m all mixed up and I don’t know why I get like this. I’m sorry I just-I’m just sorry.” She looked at her feet swiping at a tear that had spilled down her cheek and sniffled. She heard him sigh and then his arms wrapped around her.

“Don’t cry.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and they stood that way for a few moments “Hey please don’t cry.”

She looked up as tears slipped over her waterline and trickled down her cheeks “I didn’t mean that.”

She didn’t mean that. Arber had made her life better from the minute he came into it. Though the fighting was hard, it was worth it to have him around. She hated that those words had come out of her mouth. Hurting Arbers feelings wasn’t easy and she remembered every single time she had. It left a lasting impression on her and she always said she would never do it again and yet here she was.

He looked down at her “I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

Her eyes bounced between his and his mouth several times before he couldn’t take it anymore and leaned in.

A tale as old as time with them.

Like a lit match on gasoline they stumbled back to her bedroom, and Arber one hand tossed her on the mattress, yanking his shirt over his head with the other one in one fluid movement. She pulled at her shirt and threw it across the room and it landed on the lampshade, engulfing the room in semi darkness. She sat up, pulling him towards her by the waistband of his jeans and sprung the button and the zipper off them. He stepped out and nodded for her to move up the bed so he could pull hers off. His rough and calloused fingers moved down the skin of her legs as he slid her jeans over her feet, leaving her in a pair of pink panties and a matching bra. Though Tabitha and Arber had a lot of sex, she always felt exposed in front of him. Like each time was the first time. She felt a redness come to her cheeks as he reached a hand forward and ghosted a finger down her neck before splaying his hand across her chest to push her backwards, moving over top of her.

“You know I love you right?” Arber said against her neck, tongue sliding over her skin.

“Yes.” She gasped out, nails digging into his skin.

“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Tabitha relaxed under him eyes closing, as he reached down, pushing one leg wider, and bringing the other one up into an arch. He ran a hand gently down her face, before it traveled down and closed on her throat. Her whole body was shaking, goosebumps blooming across her skin, heart pounding out of her chest.

He gripped the skin of her legs tightly as he eased in agonizingly slow and bottomed out, letting out a long low noise before he pulled out again. Tabitha sucked in a breath and locked her back up, fingers gripping the sheets as he pushed back in more firmly, and locked her leg around his hip. His hand squeezed her neck gently as he moved finding a rhythm. Tabitha was overwhelmed for a minute, the high of the sex and the fight was almost too much. She closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her, lips moving slowly against hers and then down her neck.

“Look at me.” He said hand moving from her neck to her jaw and holding it in place.

Her right leg was bent at an uncomfortable angle and the sheet was bunched under her back painfully but he was giving it to her so good she wanted to scream out in pleasure, but because she was still mad at him she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She gripped the skin of his lower back and drug her nails across it hard. She heard him let out a hiss of pain and before she could even smile he bit down on her collarbone hard.

“Ow Arber!” She reached a hand up and slapped him, missing his cheek and hitting him in the jaw.

He smiled “You know what I like.” He he whispered as he let his head fall into her neck, hair tickling her skin. He moved his lips across her jaw to her mouth, tongue sweeping across her lower lip as he kissed her deeply, weight pressing down on top of her.

Damn him she thought as she felt tension build in her stomach. It would have been so much easier to stay mad at him if he was ugly or a bad fuck but he was neither and she couldn’t even think straight as she surged closer to her orgasm, sweat sheening across her stomach and chest. Arber tangled his fingers in her hair, and pushed deeper than he had before, his signature move and she felt that all too familiar feeling of falling off the ledge and closed her eyes. Pleasure washed over her in waves as she fell into euphoria underneath him. His body grew heavy on top of hers, and after a moment he pulled out slowly, and laid down next to her.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.

She sat up, arms holding the sheet tightly across her chest. She had the beginnings of a hickey on her collarbone and her hair was a mess. She scooted away from him.

“You okay?” He asked awkwardly glancing at her.

She stared at him for another second and rolled away from him wordlessly. He hated this part. After sex for them when things were good was great. But when they were arguing it almost always meant she gave him the cold shoulder. He usually hung around for a while till she decided she wasn’t mad at him anymore.

Though sometimes that lasted for hours.

He laid there a second looking at her back and shook his head disappointed with himself for giving it up so easy. His mom had always said he was stubborn but with Tabitha he had no resolve. He just couldn’t say no to her, or stay away from her. Even though she had broken up with him this time, there had been other times where he ended it and he still found himself at her apartment or finding some way to get in contact with her. At this point in their relationship they were so entangle he wasn’t sure he could get away from her even if he wanted to.

Not that he did of course.

She drove him every way except up, but to be in her presence was to be completely intoxicated by her.

Tabitha had peaked his interest the second he saw her. Tall and willowy in build, long shiny hair, big white teeth, and an attitude that made Satan look like a house pet.

She’d picked him up in a bar with a big smile and a few hair flips and nearly a year later they were here. She was both the best and the worst woman he’d ever met.

There was two Tabitha’s and he felt pretty fortunate to know both of them. Under all the attitude, she could be real sweet when it was just them. There was no feeling quite like the one he got when she smiled at him, or reached for his hand, or pushed her face into his neck right before she fell asleep. Though she had the tendency to get under his skin, she didn’t really have any major flaws.

The worst part about her was her friends. They were awful, and they hated him, and truly they never gave him a chance to begin with. They decided after that first breakup that he was a sleazebag and there was nothing he could do to rehab his image no matter how hard he tried so he gave up. He avoided them like the plague, making sure to never be around when they were if he didn’t have to be. His friends were a little more forgiving thankfully. His teammates he sometimes thought would take her side over his if one of their breakups ever became permanent. His parents loved her even more than the team did, and she’d fit right into his life in Hamilton when she’d made the trip home with him last spring. She was blunt, funny and charming and magnetic enough to draw people in and make them wanna stay, him included. No one was perfect, but to him she came pretty close.

And as much stress as the back and forth the relationship brought to him, he couldn’t let her go. The idea of her with someone other than him made him wanna throw up and rage, so instead he put up with the fights and breakups. It sounded bad but it was all true. He really did love Tabitha. In fact he loved her too much, and he wanted to spend forever with her. He didn’t love fighting with her, but he would deal with it till he died if it meant she wasn’t with anyone else.

It felt a little selfish if he was honest. He wondered sometimes if someone else could make her happier than he could. Maybe he was the problem and it would be best to let her be with someone who could do for her what he obviously couldn’t. He’d even suggested it to her once and it had made her cry for nearly 10 minutes and he felt so bad he never suggested it again.

He reached a hand out and ran it through the hair behind her ear, wondering if she was really sleeping or faking so he’d leave her alone, when he heard his phone buzz twice.

Are you coming out?

He read Cole’s message and bit his lip thinking for a minute No probably not. Not feeling it. Going to stay in tonight.

Okay tell Tabitha I said hi haha

Fuck off.

He set his phone down right as she began to stir.

She half turned “I thought you said you were going out with the guys.” She looked relieved to find him still next to her in bed and rolled over to face him fully.

He shrugged and reached a hand out to run it down her shoulder “I was going to but…I figured I can just go out with them when we break up next week.”

She grinned and made a face “Ha ha.”

“Kidding. I’d prefer we not break up next week or anymore at all maybe? I’m getting tired of fighting with you like this.”

She nodded and reached a finger forward to trace the scar on his collarbone “Me too. Sorry.”

He shrugged “It’s okay.

It was silent for a few moments as she stared at him before she leaned her head down to peer at him “And you are sorry as well?”

He leaned back “Me? Sorry for what? You broke up with me, I returned your things, and now here we are.”

Tabitha sat up, eyebrows knitting together over her eyes and let out a breath “I broke up with you because of something you did. So yes you should be sorry.”

He frowned “What did I do? Whatever you heard from whoever you heard it from is a complete lie, like it usually is. Stop listening to other people.” He said annunciating each word with a small smack from one hand to another “I don’t understand why you can’t just ask me about something you hear instead of freaking out about stuff. I mean Jesus Christ Tabitha why are you trusting other people instead of me.”

“Because-“

“No I’ll tell you why.” He said cutting her off and sitting up “Because you let whatever insecurity this is eat you alive until you can’t take it anymore and you blow up on me for nothing.”

“So it’s all my fault?” She said pointing at herself.

“I didn’t say that. It’s me too, but this time I didn’t do anything. Let me ask you this. Do you really think that if I didn’t love you or didn’t want to be here that I would be? I could go out and pick some girl up right now and yet here I am. Fighting with you. Again.” He said throwing his hands up and shaking his head.

“Well since your so confident in your abilities then there’s the door.” She reached down and picked up his pants, shirt and boxers and heaved them at him, narrowly missing his head and yanked the blanket off him to wrap it around herself “Thanks for coming have a nice night. Out.” She pointed at the doorway.

“Whatever. Fuck this.” He pulled his clothing on and then shoes, slamming the door as he left. He got into his truck and gripped the wheel, resisting the urge to punch it and breathed several breaths through his nose.

This relationship was going to be the death of him.

[ray-winters]

we just wanna hear any hcs you have for our boy misch

Alright, y’all asked for it, buckle up:

Mischa makes most of his money from an apprenticeship he has at the only tattoo parlor in Uranium City. He gets paid a bit, and on top of that he gets free tattoos (which is where he got all of his from). Plus it keeps him out of the house and also pisses his very traditionally valued adoptive parents off. Win win.

My Mischa only has tattoos on his right arm bc I am left handed so HE is left handed- he does his own tattoos mostly. He was going to start a sleeve on his left arm after he got home from the fall fair.

Speaking of his tattoos; the first tattoo he gave himself was one that says “Bad Egg” w/devil horns and a devil tail. “Bad Egg” was something his adoptive dad would frequently call him, so it was his way of reclaiming the name for himself, and pissing off his adoptive parents bc they were viciously anti-tattoo

He has another tattoo of a crescent moon with a “ - T” next to it bc he asked Talia to draw him something to put on his body. She drew the moon because of the time difference between Kyiv & Uranium, any time she sees the moon she knows she’s going to hear from Mischa soon. So she began to associate Mischa with the moon.

My personal fav tattoo I gave Mischa is that stereotypical “S” where you draw 6 lines and connect them. This is brand fucking new to Mischa, he had never seen it before, and he thought it was dope af, so he tattooed it on himself immediately.

He has a tattoo of a pot leaf, but it’s not very good so everyone always thinks it’s a Canadian maple leaf. Which drives him up the wall.

Mischa has taken in a small black cat that would hang around the tattoo parlor and would occasionally follow him home. It lives with him in the basement, it comes and goes, and it is a well kept hidden secret.

Mischa hangs at Noel’s house…a lot. Noel’s mom lets him stay the night often bc she knows about his home life and thinks it’s disgraceful, so she takes care of him.

Mischa was class clown and relatively popular at his high school in Ukraine- which is the polar opposite of how he’s received at St. Cassian’s. People either are afraid of him, or they try to make fun of him, so either way he has found himself alone most of the time.

He’d never admit it, but Mischa does actually enjoy hanging with the kids in the choir. He gets to hang with his bestie, Noel. He admires Constance’s patience and kindness, he thinks she’s probably the best person in Uranium. While he and Ocean get on each other’s nerves, there’s a small part of him that secretly looks forward to their fights. But only a little bit. He doesn’t notice Ricky is there until after the accident, and then spends a large chunk of his time trying to rectify that by getting to know/encourage Ricky.

He and Noel became friends bc some of the boys who were trying to bully Mischa were also bullying Noel. When Mischa was about to start defending Noel, Noel ended up proving he can defend himself with his quick wit rather than fists. This is a trait that Mischa admires a lot, so they pretty much joined forces that day and they’ve been the dynamic duo of Uranium City ever since.

Mischa has pretty severe abandonment issues and it prone to panic attacks because of it. He’s more of a “suffer in silence” kind of guy, so it takes someone with patience and kindness like Constance to give him some tips on how to calm himself down. I.E. remembering a calming situation like “climbing back into your bed in the morning and feeling the heat left over from your body.”

Mischa had been kicked out of a few schools in Uranium, and his adoptive figures (they’re not really parents, barely guardians) gave him one last chance at St. Cassian’s. When he was caught stealing the communion wine, Father Marcus told him he HAD to join the choir and that he HAD to at the very least sing at the competition. Which is why he doesn’t do any choreo during the opening number.

Addendum- he does ONE move during the opening number. The finger wag on “oh no no” because Noel came up with that move, and after Ocean tried to cut it, Mischa said it was the only move he’d do even if it was cut. So he forced her to keep the move in via malicious compliance.

Over the course of the musical, there isn’t really a moment where he thinks he’s gonna win. His life wasn’t fair, why should his death be any different.

He thinks Jane is THE coolest and THE most metal thing he’s ever seen. After she finishes her number, his heart is effectively broken for her.

When Constance punches Ocean, Mischa doesn’t have the “FUCK YEAH” reaction that you’d expect. It’s actually met with some sadness. He’s always encouraging Constance to stick up for herself, and to not take Ocean’s shit. But, he respects that she has patience and kindness. When Constance punches Ocean, he almost sees it as a failure on his part.

The reason in my head why Mischa and Ocean feud so much is because they remind each other of one another’s parents. Ocean is the poster child of excellence in Uranium, Mischa’s adoptive parents have said more than once that they wish he could “be like that Ocean girl” - on the contrary, Ocean has caught Mischa smoking weed before. His incredibly radically liberal world view reminds her of her hippy parents. They get that anger out at them on each other. But at the end of the show, they both have a deeper respect for one another. Ocean for Mischa because she sees the real him, who is gentle & compassionate. Mischa for Ocean because she does the most selfless thing she could possibly do, which he respects infinitely.

I’m sure I have more but these are the HC’s that immediately came to mind. This is what makes Majestic Rep’s Mischa, Mischa.

[rainboneish]

ngl i do kinda love the idea that Geto was kind of the glue that held Gojo and Shoko together in some ways and that’s why she never really managed to connect to Gojo as much after Geto was Gone.

it fits what the japanese VAs have said in the season 2 guide book (from the translations i’ve seen on twt anyway), about how Geto was the first person to really treat Gojo as a normal person and how Gojo used him as a guide for more than just morals

Obviously Gojo and Shoko have their own understanding and bond but Geto being the “translator” between the aspects of Gojo permanently shaped by being the Strongest/the one to kind of remind him how to be human and a person and show consideration for others (which is what most of their interactions in Hi are, from him telling him to ease up on Utahime (even if he is patronizing her) and later Riko, to the scene where he is concerned about him staying awake multiple nights in a row)

yes him reminding gojo to act proper is for politeness sake, which is a facade (a facade Geto is good at, sth shown in his cult leader days too, but still not a genuine character trait, hence why he also kinda fails to live up to it himself) but it is also him trying to meditate between Gojo and others (also partially why he was the one to tell Riko she had a choice, despite it originally being Gojo’s idea (obv Gojo wasn’t available at that point but they could have had that conversation earlier if he had wanted to be the one to have it)

Geto is also kind of shown on screen to be a mediator between Gojo and Nanami&Haibara (and Yuki but she doesn’t really fit in here because their relationship isn’t a personal one)

The first time Nanami and Haibara show up we don’t know for sure who communicated with them but it’s a fair assumption that it was Geto sending the text since Gojo presumably went back to playing around with Riko, Haibara also specifically mentions wanting to impress Geto (whether that’s because they are closer or because Geto is more likely to compliment their efforts is debatable but i think a combination of both is likely)

the only two other moments the both of them have are one on one interactions with Geto, and Gojo is brought up in both of them.

Haibara’s scene, Yuu running into Geto at the school, doesn’t have much to do with Gojo, until Geto brings him up. Haibara could have easily texted Gojo, and while the main thing this scene shows is Gojo’s absence (another reason why Yuu couldn’t ask him in person) and Geto still thinking of him when he is in such a bad headspace, it’s also another instance of Geto bridging the Gap between their schoolmates and Gojo.

Then we see Nanami’s scene with Geto over Haibara’s body, Geto telling Nanami that Gojo will handle the rest of the mission. Nanami responds with the much talked about “can’t he just handle everything” line and Geto is not in a state to respond. But once again Geto is the one having a conversation about Gojo (in Gojo’s stead), being treated as the go-between in Nanami’s venting.

(Even in the 236 airport scene, though i’m not gonna go too deeply into that one cause there are some differences in the translations )

Now, Gojo obviously still has relationships with Nanami and Shoko, as well as Yaga and other sorcerers, in the 11 years between Geto’s defection, but i think Geto’s defection could definitely have been one of the things that kept a distance between them.

Aspect of the Isolation of the Strongest aside (which is obviously the main reason for the distance between them),

their situation reminds me of when you have two close friends (or a couple) that hang out with a friend group in real life, where it’s mostly the more socially adept of the two who is putting in the work to stay in touch with their other friends (talking to the others and being the one who is being talked to on behalf of both of them, or always reaching out to one person cause the group knows the other person is probably with them anyway and will get the message)

so then when the two friends/couple drift apart or the more “connected” person leaves entirely for some reason (moving away, change of university/work), the remaining person often ends up losing contact with the friend group, not because the people involved don’t like each other, but because everyone got so used to the person who left acting as a mediator that they don’t really know/aren’t really used to keeping in touch/actively making plans together directly. Or they make an effort to hang out but end up feeling kind of awkward because everyone is so used to seeing the two people together that they suddenly find themselves unable to connect with the person who “lost” their close friend/partner

[r0b0s-robos]

DCA HARPY AU

FLIGHTLESS

PLOT |

• Reader was once a harpy, bonded for life to Sun and Moon. Reader dies unexpectedly by a dragon and gets reborn as a human (100-ish years later) in a village quite a distance away.

• Reader grows up to be the village trader. They go out on behalf of the village to trade goods and bring new things like magical items to the small village. They also love to draw and while drawing they see a harpy nest that *looks* abandoned and starts to draw it because harpies are relatively rare to encounter.

• They know that it's said that harpies are the most vicious mythical creature that live near the village. Unlike a dragon, who will give its prey a quick and painless death, harpies often eat their prey while it's still alive, warm, and conscious.

About Sun & Moon:

• Sun has been grieving your loss since the day you first died. He always looks sad and has unkempt feathers. Despite his appearance, he honestly is fairing much better than Moon.

• Moon is inconsolable. He spends most days in the nest surrounded by what was once your feathers. While Sun often finds energy to hunt, Moon only eats when pestered enough.

• Sun and Moon find out that Reader died by a dragon. A storm kept Reader from returning to the nest and instead found safety from the storm in a cave. The dragon that lived there was incredibly hungry and territorial.

• Sun and Moon do what any grieving harpy would. They slay the dragon viciously, digging into it as it still breathes. The rage and heartache feels as though it will be everlasting and this is the only immediate cure. (When ur a human you find their nest is still adorned with bones of a large beast).

• Moon would be based off a screech owl and harpy eagle, Sun either a crowned eagle or a mix of golden eagle and harpy eagle

• Upon meeting, Sun especially is very clingy. he believes full-heartedly that you are the one that they lost. Moon does as well, but you are so, so very fragile now. You are so delicate. (To them, at least. To you and ur village ur pretty much a badass lmao). But he can't allow himself to be close only to lose you again. His resolve doesn't last long.

About Reader:

• Reader is well-respected in their village by all except a few handfuls of older members who dislike the magical forest where Reader lives. (The village itself was attacked by harpies 100 years prior. May or may not have smth to do w/ Sun and Moon).

• Reader’s home is kind of like a homestead. But since its in the magical forest they had to make it a treehouse to avoid ground predators during the night. It’s very nice and everything is mostly made by them. They possess some magic, but they only really use it for cooking or protection.

• I imagine that when they meet Sun and Moon (and after the relationship has developed a bit. At least past them, fearing that they’ll be harmed). That they allow Sun and Moon to build some nest in the rafters of their house.

Scenes:

• Sun feeling particularly guilty because he looked so unkempt for your reunion. He apologizes the best way he knows how. But you don't speak the same language. And all you know is that he's upset that he's dirty. So you take him to a waterfall and clean his feathers. Your fingers running along his back as you dislodge sticks and leaves. He helps where he can, but mostly he sinks into the water and just pleads for this to not be a dream.

• Moon would have a similar situation with the reader. Tho his involves his attempts at gifting them things. Food at first. Then anything that shines or sparkles. He creates necklaces of jewels that rival those found on the rich upper-class of the inner kingdom. Reader appreciate the gifts, but cannot wear the jewelry because it would cause others to ask questions or attempt to rob them when they travel. Moon and Sun initially believe it is because you find none of their gifts good enough to adorn upon yourself. Moon grieves all over again. You comfort him, and give him a gift of your own. A ribbon, endowed with protection to wear around his ankle. (You give this to Sun, as well ofc).

Funny thought to end my rambling on:

• Imagine Reader trying to sleep but they keep hearing knocking and skittering on their roof and when they look outside the window they just see a pair of giant red owl eyes. At first they would be scared. But after two weeks they start ignoring the knocking and tapping around their house so they can just (attempt) to get a good night's rest w/o the inescapable “bird cuddle pile” and since the harpies feathers are insulated, poor reader always feels a little cooked at night.