#you can never go wrong with a sleeveless black turtleneck

[thegatorsgoose]

Tw: blood

Pt. 2, not-so little baby man

Pt 1 & 2. Based on this fic^

Danny decides to stick around, and becomes a sort of guard dog for Wayne manor, making it a true haunted mansion.

Also I love that everyone thought about ratatouille, it makes me think one of the batkids made the mistake of watching it when he was around, and Damien has to face the consequences.

Eventually this leads them to discover overshadowing :)

[krenenbaker]

Dove, this is ILLEGAL!!!!!! HE'S TOO PRETTY.

the detail you've put into him... I SEE YOUR TAGS. I SEE THEM. AND I JUST HAVE TO SAY...

I love it all ♡ especially his fangies and his nose!!! (also his shirt... you can't do that!) ohmygods he's so cute!!

really though, this is fantastic. and he's so excited! It's adorable (*^w^*)

DOVE DOVE DOVE DOVEOVEODVEVVOEOEDV I JUST SAW THE ART THING YORUE DOING BC YOU TAGGED ME IN THE FREUD DRAWING AND CAN I PLEAD WITH U FOR A CRUMB OF CHALONER CONTENT ND 1H? NO PRESSURE OFC ^^ !!!

A crumb you say? Hmmm, since you pleaded, I shall feed you… for now~

He’s either confessing or plotting to steal something right from under good ol’ Warden Newton’s nose (both, he’s doing both)

[bubble-popping]

day 37 :] feeling very sick rn lol so more old stuff. continuation from yesterday

The mercenary found himself at the door engraved with the number on the key. Before inserting the metal, they tried to see if they could hear anything inside the room but there was complete silence. This felt different, different from any other time they were going into an exchange. Usually, they had insight beforehand. They knew something. Not this time, and that... well, it intimidated them a little. This could very easily be a trap, a way to corner them and get rid of some competition or enact revenge. However, they never met this stranger prior to the tavern so they doubted that, but the possibility was never zero.

Despite their concerns, Punz unlocked the door and opened it. The sight they found surprised them. For a second, they thought this was somehow the wrong room until they saw the green cloak and clay mask resting on a chair out of the corner of their eye. A man sat on the large window sill, the lantern on the bedside table illuminating dirty blond hair and juniper irises. Irises that surrounded slit pupils. Under those, accompanying the myriad of freckles, were white reptilian scales leading along his jaw to the back of his neck and shoulders.

"You came. Good. Lock the door behind you, won't you?" He pushed off the sill and walked over. Punz did as asked since there was an easy escape via the window and the man didn't look armed under his sleeveless black turtleneck and loose trousers.

"Yeah, I'm here. So, what's the job?" The man stopped a few feet from Punz and crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze didn't waver as they made silent eye contact for a good few moments.

"Punz, right?" The one mentioned immediately narrowed their eyes at the usage of their real name. "Better known as White Lightning for your speed and precision. An estimated 143 body count including women and children. Wanted for thousands of gold, alienated by the greater mercenary community due to envy. Often found in this village when not actively working a job. Is everything correct so far?"

Now Punz was a lot more skeptical. They clenched their hands into fists at their sides. "Who the hell are you?"

The man stretched his hand out. "I'm Dream." Punz glared at the gesture. They had half a mind to slap it away at the sheer audacity. But then they remembered the man's wording, how he was "willing to pay whatever it takes," and shook his hand.

"How do you know all of that?" They questioned once their hands separated.

"Because I have a very particular job for you, and it would help to have background knowledge so I know I can trust you." His expression remained stoic, and he didn't move aside from his mouth. He didn't even blink. No matter what, they couldn't analyze him.

"Knowing a vague description of my history doesn't mean you know me," Punz hissed through their teeth.

"I don't need to. I just need to know you can do what I need and do it well."

"What's the job?" They asked again, noticeably more impatient.

"I need someone who will defend me."

Punz rose a brow. "You want a bodyguard? And you thought a mercenary was the smartest option for that?"

"Not just any mercenary, but a mercenary with a reputation for never refusing a job with the right price."

"Do you have that right price?"

Dream shrugged and walked around the other blond. "Perhaps I do, that's for you to decide," he said as he passed and looked back at Punz over his shoulder. Then, he sat at the edge of the bed facing Punz with his legs a little more spread than they should've been.

Their brows furrowed at first until realization hit them. This wasn't the first time they'd been offered sex in return for a job, but... it was the first time they were actually considering it.

Dream was attractive. In fact, Punz felt a little irked by how he fit their type to the smallest details. A sun-kissed skin tone, bright eyes, fluffy hair, and all those freckles. Built like a fighter, but with a slim waist and runner's legs. Best of all, a hybrid, like them. Although, where Dream had the eyes and scales of a reptile, Punz had the ears and tail of a wolf.

"What'll it be? Do we have a deal or not?" He spoke again, further spreading his legs, further enticing them.

Finally, after another few seconds of contemplating, Punz nodded. "Yeah. We have a deal."

[astoldbyaja]

Bark like you want it! -Ch.5 ~AU Demon Slayer~

My stomach had knots in it. Mitsuri was so sad I didn’t hang out with them last night, but neither her nor Shinobu brought up Kyojuro’s fight. Did he even tell them what happened? I feel like if he did, they would be asking me all kinds of questions.

However, none of that mattered as I was walking toward the science building. My next class wasn’t for at least another hour and a half. The bite on my neck was swollen and very much visible so I wore a sleeveless turtleneck shirt. I had no idea what was going to happen once I met with Akaza. I could see his flash of pink hair in the distance, and I sighed heavily. When I was close, I gave a low hey.

He turned and I noticed the black eye and the few stitches above his right eyebrow. He looked at me with a scowl, however it didn’t remain long on his face before it turned to hurt and embarrassment.

“Hey.” he said. I paused and looked him over.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“You really want to know because you care or you just asking to ask?” he asked. I stared at him for a moment unsure of what the right answer is. I know the answer already.

“I don’t want to fight. If you don’t want to tell me then fine. So, let’s just get this talk over with. You’ve been calling and texting my phone and now your friends are also attempting to persuade me to continue whatever this was between us. I don’t like it. You’re in a gang and that’s a deal breaker for me. I don’t need that kind of drama even if we were just fucking.” I stated. I can see his face contorting into different emotions as I spoke. He was stunned at hearing his friends were reaching out, but happy after knowing they were trying to talk me back under him, then he was scowling upon me mentioning his gang life.

“You didn’t see a problem with it before!” he snapped.

“Did you tell me you were in a gang before?” I bit back. He mumbled and looked away gently touching his eye. I could imagine it hurt from all his different eye movements. “You also put me in a position when you introduced me as your girlfriend when you knew that wasn’t true. Had you not shot yourself in the foot by running your mouth I’d be at your dorm, bent over and babbling like a bitch in heat while you fucked me into your mattress before our next class. Am I wrong?” His body stiffened as he looked away a tent pitching in his pants at the moment.

“No. But fuck I love it when you talk dirty like that.” he said, a shade of pink appearing over his face. I immediately snapped my fingers twice at him making him jump a bit looking me back in my eyes.

“Focus!” I said. “What exactly do you want from me Akaza because your friends are not going to stop harassing, me until you most likely tell them to stop, which I have strong feeling you won’t do.” His jaw tightened at my words, and he looked away not denying it. I sighed heavily.

“We had a good thing going before you ruined it. Let’s just… stop it now. End this like adults.” I replied.

“No!” he said sharply shaking his head. I stiffened frowning some.

“Akaza, it’s sex.” I replied.

“The best fucking sex I have had in years! Your mouth, the way your lips stretch around my cock as you deep throat me, your throat squeezing me just right gives me the best sensations in my cock all the way into my body. And your pussy- fuck your pussy is fucking feral, babe! The way it’s hot and tight and gets wet easily ooh just to grip my dick like a vice perfectly makes for the best orgasms. And I’m coming for that ass next! Nah you and I ain’t done by a long shot! So I suggest we act like none of this shit happened, go back to my place bend you over face down, ass up and we continue to enjoy each other’s company.” He explained. My face reddened at his words, and I was fuming. God he’s just like Kyojuro not hearing a word I said.

“Okay first of all, there is no acting like this never happened! You still have not told me what I want to hear!” I snapped. He took a step closer.

“What do you want to hear, Yara?” he asked annoyed.

“Um, maybe an apology for ruining our friends with benefits by falsely stating I was your girlfriend!” I replied. He rolled his eyes.

“I mean basically you are, we hang out, we fuck, we talk and text. It’s not like you’re doing that with someone else right!” he asked.

“Dude! You were the first to say we “this means nothing. We’ll just fuck. There will be no emotions or feelings involved”. Yet it seems to me you have some emotions and feelings for this.” I said drawing a circle in the air in front of my crotch. Akaza watched this, his body still and his eyes hardening as he looked at me seriously.

“You didn’t deny it.” he said lowly. I was still now not liking this look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“You didn’t deny that you weren’t fucking someone else.” he said. I now stood my grown, glaring hard at him.

“There’s nothing to deny. I am not in a relationship with anyone so I can see who I want, talk to who I want, and fuck who I want.” I said. He was quiet for a long moment, the look on his face unreadable. In one quick moment, my hands grabbed, and I yelp as I’m thrown over his shoulder.

“What the fuck!” I snapped, his body already moving toward the men’s restroom. He kicked the door open and tossed me inside. I landed on the ground with a heavy thud. “Have you lost your mind!”

Akaza turned to the door and locked the heavy lock above it and my eyes widened. All the while, he grabbed his belt buckle hard and began to unfasten it. I quickly got to my feet as he was on me in seconds.

“Akaza, this isn’t funny let me go!” I yelled as I tried to get around him. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me into the handicapped stall. I fell once again to my feet, my phone falling from my pocket. Before I can grab it, he kicks it behind the toilet and grabs me and shoves me against the wall. The movement knocks the wind out of me, and he takes this time to close the stall door and lock it.

Still a bit daze, I fell my wrists being grabbed and tied together before being fasted over the small hook above it. It restrained me enough and Akaza just stared at me before gripping my cheeks hard. I growl a bit refusing to show my fear. He looks at my neck and suddenly lowers the turtleneck. He eyes the bite marks immediately and his eye twitches a bit.

“You’re not stupid so I am not going to repeat myself. I will not apologize for claiming you as mine because you are. Since you have commitment issues, I’ll respect that you don’t want the title as my girlfriend. However, that will change before we graduate. Instead, you’ll be my paramour and that means you and I will continue our deal as before. We will fuck and we will fuck often. I will not cling to you like I have before, I realize you like your space and if I want this relationship to blossom then I’ll give you your space. However, I expect you to not hide your urges from me. You want my dick I’ll happily oblige and vice versa. If you want to fuck someone else, I expect you to tell me who before anyone’s unworthy dick penetrates your garden of Eden.” he said.

Oh, he did not just say that! However, I feel the tingling sensations start to arise in my vagina as I realized the setting I was in. We’re in a secluded area, I’m bound and he’s asserting his dominance over me. Oh my God he’s using one of the fantasies I had told him about if I was ever going to accept a man’s want of a relationship with me. I admitted that I found it quite hot if a man were to do something like this, tie me up and basically tell me I was his. And of course, I never wanted to know when it was happening or else it wouldn’t feel real enough to me.

Oh I knew I shouldn’t have told him that!

“And I’m guessing you want to say yay or nay to other lovers I might want?” I asked. He smirked raising his arm to rest it at the side of my face so he can lean into me.

“That’s right.” he said.

“Kind of defeats the purpose of a friends with benefits then. I’m guessing you’re still going to fuck who you want then?” I assumed. He shook his head raising his other hand to run his knuckles over my cheek. I closed my eyes trying not to visibly shiver.

“Oh no. I could never be that type of guy to set rules for my paramour and not follow them myself. No, my cock is yours and yours alone,” he said with a gentle moan, eyes growing cloudy as his hand slid down my neck, then over my stomach and under the elastic band of my legs moving to gently rub my folds through my panties. I whimpered some, “just like your pussy is mine and mine alone.”

He presses his lips into mine and I softly respond to the kiss not wanting to further anger him. He sighed.

“I’ve missed both these lips.” he said smirking coyly pressing a bit more into my clit. I tensed.

“Using my fantasy to get what you want, I’m disappointed.” I replied. He gave a gentle pout.

“Well, I can’t have my girl disappointed. Just like I can’t allow anyone to ever mark you again.” he said with a slow frown before finally moving down my body, his arm moving from the stall and over to grope my breast before finally moving to pull my leggings down to my ankles.

“Akaza now is not the time.” I said. Surely someone would notice the bathroom door is locked and find someone with the authority to unlock it. He let out a gentle moan as he just stared at my pink lace panties.

“But it’s been a while since we did anything, we’re behind our usual schedule together so we both need to catch up. And besides I have to rid your body of whoever else was inside you while we were on our little break. I expect for you to tell me whose dick was inside you too.” he said before his tongue slid sloppily up my folds and over my clothed clit. I let out a sharp gasp as my body pressed back into the stall as if to get away from his mouth.

“Aahh – we’ve never done something like this here.” I said.

“And now this will be the first of many new things we will try. Don’t tell me the thought of us getting caught doesn’t make you wet.” he purred.

“Akaza please we both have class we need to get to.” I said.

“I know you don’t ever like to be late, so I’ll make this quick.” he said and before I could question how, he moves my panties out of the way and attacks my clit. My entire body began shake as I felt the familiar sensations. Fuck he’s so good with his mouth too we both know this. His lips suck and his tongue flicks at me in the perfect of ways. He knows just what to do.

“I’m sorry I put you in this position that almost ruined what we had going.” He finally mutters as two fingers slide so easily into my entrance. I gasped hard feeling him already set an even pace, his fingers pressing and sliding against my gummy walls and I’m panting heavily, my walls ringing and coming to life. “I’ll never do that to you again. Things will be back to normal again. It’ll be just the two of us, like before.”

I panted watching as he drinks and laps up at my juices before sucking on my clit again.

“Nnghh fuck.” I whisper as my hips instinctively buck gently against his face. Akaza growled, panting against my vagina further stimulating it. Damn it I hate how good he is at this!

“I want to make you scream again, Yara. I want to feel you cream all over my tongue and fingers as you cum in complete bliss.” he moaned. My body starts to crumble it feels, my legs shaking and my stomach knotting up.

“A- Akaza!” I whimpered looking down at him with cloudy eyes as he looks up at me with deep, sensual eyes.

“Yes, baby I’m here. I missed you too!” he moaned out pumping his fingers into me faster and deeper prodding against my gspot. My body immediately bucked sharply against his face. “Is that the spot! I’ll fuck that spot with my dick tonight as much as you want until you’re a drenched mess!” I can feel that blissful coil tightening up preparing to explode.

“Ah, I’m gonna cum!” I cry out and he moves his fingers even faster.

“Cum on my fingers baby! Let me feel you!” he snaps. I can feel everything pouring out of me as that delicious sensation explodes inside my vagina and I cry out hard.

“Ah yesyesyesyesyesyes ahhhh!” I cry out and Akaza moans hard against my thigh biting down on my skin as he continues to pump his fingers into me.

“That's my girl! That’s it baby give it all to me!” he praises. My legs are shaking, and I feel my entire body go limp now. Akaza removes his fingers and slowly licks at them. He then grabs some toilet paper from the dispenser and hums victoriously as he cleans me up. Once that’s done, he releases my wrists and secures his pants. I quickly move to place my panties back on.

Fuck well this did not work how I thought. Akaza smiled happily pecking the tip of my nose and I just groaned and moved to leave the bathroom.

“God, I can’t stand you.” I muttered as I moved to unlock the bathroom door.

“Aww I missed you too!” he said skipping after me happily but not before licking his lips and pressing his fingers to his face.

So, I had to accept that I couldn’t get away from either gang especially since it’s been made very clear both can find me whenever they wanted on campus. I didn’t hear from Kyojuro which made this better and stressed me out less. After class, I moved to the mess hall to study on the second floor by myself. Akaza didn’t follow me, reminding me that he would give me space. However, I did not expect him to keep his word. I told him I had plans for the weekend and I would not give them up for him. He accepted this.

By the next day, I was at the hair salon, from eleven am to six pm enjoying the process of getting my goddess braids in. Ooh they were light, they were small, long and gorgeous and boy did my confidence skyrocket! I needed this hair day that was for sure! I was in a red tank and black shorts which just went with the style a well. I was feeling myself.

As I returned to my apartment, I found Shinobu and Mitsuri at the table studying. When they saw me, their eyes popped, and they gasped.

“Oh my god Yara your hair- you look so gorgeous!” Mitsuri gushed.

“It turned out amazing!” Shinobu complimented. I smiled sweetly.

“Thanks.” I replied. “Listen, I feel horrible for not meeting you both at the student lounge the other night. You’ve both tried to make me feel welcome and I haven’t been giving much back to the roommate-ship you both created.”

Shinobu shook her head.

“It’s okay Yara, you like your space, and we respect that. We never have a problem just asking to include you in things.” she said with a motherly smile.

“Yeah, you’re an introvert whose social battery has a limit!” Mitsuri added with a casual shrug and a bright smile. That was so true.

“Thanks for understanding. Do you guys want to go out tonight, maybe to the Unholy?” I asked. The Unholy was a club not too far away that had great music and dancing and was one of the few places I felt I could be myself and let loose. The two politely declined.

“We have date nights tonight.” Mitsuri said with a blush. I nodded.

“Understood!” I replied.

“But our phones are always on so if anything happens you call us, and we’ll come get you.” Shinobu said. I nodded and smiled before heading to my room to get ready.

Ten PM

I was entering the Unholy Club wearing blue tight jeans and a black crop top. My skin was glistening, my perfume was sprayed on my neck and wrists, my pulse spreading the scent out to those near me. My hair was perfect, my makeup was on point, and my jewelry was not too flashy, but enough to make heads turn. Men’s eyes followed my form as I made my way down the dark hall lit up by round in wall lights above.

The Box by Roddy Ricch was playing on the dance floor up ahead, but it was from his live concert in London. Oh fuck yes!

Purple and green neon lights were flowing over the group of people dancing and I was about to turn up!

“Ay…hey! I know ya’ll know this motherfucker so ya’ll gotta sing this shit. LONDON… SING THIS SHIT!”

[sirius-archive]

Heatwave (The Mandalorian x Reader) SMUT

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, rough sex, light choking, dom/sub (Mandalorian dom, Reader sub)

Word count: 🤷🏽‍♀️

Summary: You’re a thief with sexy fire powers. He’s a sexy bounty hunter who you’ve been playing cat and mouse with. When he catches you, Baby Yoda decides to play match-maker. It works. For once.

A/N: I found this baby after scrolling through my notes and had to post it. I wrote this when I was drunk so forgive the spelling errors. Baby Yoda is literally that one criminal dude from tangled (I think?) who bangs the two tiny wooden horses together. lol. 

Also, am I wrong in saying that I think everyone wants to fuck the Mandalorian in his sexy Mandalorian armour?

(Not my gif)

***

You can’t deny that there’s something sexy about being handcuffed and taken prisoner by the Mandalorian.

While inconvenient to say the least, there’s still an undercurrent of sexual tension that demands to be felt, charging the air between the two of you as he straps you into the seat beside him. It’s why he always chases you, why you always allow yourself to get caught, and why he lets you escape into the night. It’s the longest, most amusing, most sexy game of chess you’ve ever played.

“Every time you handcuff me, I always imagine it in an entirely different context,” you purr, smirking up at him as he tightens your handcuffs.

As usual, he doesn’t say anything at first. Its becoming all too predictable.

The fancy, expensive, definitely-not-a-sex-toy handcuffs dig into the skin of your wrists, though not enough to make it arousing. He’s done it deliberately; he’s surmised you like it rough from your previous encounters with him. It’s a type of torture he’s managed to master exceedingly well. Which is arousing in itself. What a paradox the two of you are.

“Jokes on you, y’know,” you tease, tilting your head up at him, “I’m very much into the idea of you torturing me.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” he warns, his voice tinny and deliciously husky.

“So he speaks.”

The Mandalorian remains silent, though you can somehow tell he’s glaring at you from behind his helmet.

“You’re not the first Mandalorian to come after me,” you say as he kneels to bind your ankles, “And you won’t be the last. I’ve killed your predecessors and I won’t hesitate to kill whoever they decide to send after you. You’re lucky I’m into you otherwise I’d have my legs around your neck right now — and not in a good way.”

The Mandalorian is silent at first. Then, when you think he isn’t going to grace you with a response—

“So you’re just going to keep running? What kind of life is that?”

You chew your bottom lip, considering his question thoughtfully, “It’s a life and it’s far better than the alternative.”

The Mandalorian rises, straightens the broad line of his shoulders, “Is it really a life? If you can’t settle down to enjoy it?”

You gracefully arch an eyebrow at him, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mandalorian.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

****

The strange, tiny child gazes up at you with large, innocent inky-black eyes and blinks owlishly.

He’s managed to scramble into your lap, blocking your means of escape while the Mandalorian hastily fixes the engine of his ship. You can’t help but smile at his innocence, contrasting the weight of your criminal ways.

Regardless, you focus on funnelling the spluttering ball of energy in your core to your ankle cuffs. The heated metal bites into your skin as it begins to glow bright orange, but you can take it. You’re one of the last Phoenixs — or Nixes, for short —  in the universe; cosmic fire and heat is what you are, what you’re made of.

The child, however, doesn’t seem afraid of the heat rising from your skin, turning your hair a bright, fiery red.

“Look, little guy — or girl — I need you to get off my lap so I can bust out of here!” You hiss, imploringly, “My distraction will only last so lo—“

The Mandalorian’s heavy footsteps echo into the cockpit of his ship. You immediately stop melting the metal, allowing your natural hair colour to bleed over the reds and oranges, disguising your true heritage.

He stops, spotting the child now stroking your hair.

“He’s cute,” you remark, beaming down at the child, “Didn’t realise you had a kid.”

The Mandalorian marches forward and snatches the child from your lap. He cradles him protectively, eying you with what you suspect is suspicion as he safely places the child on the far side of the room.

“Don’t touch him.”

“He was touching me first.”

“I don’t care, don’t touch him.”

“My god, you’d think I’m infected with some hideous, flesh-eating disease.”

“No, you’re a criminal—“

“—Thief—“

“—you’re a criminal and I don’t trust you.”

Something about that stings. Your expression shutters, schooling into apathy.

“So why keep me around?” You ask, coolly, “Why don’t you just carbon freeze me?”

You have a feeling you know the answer. He doesn’t carbon freeze you for the same reason why he doesn’t bother stopping you as you escape the slippery clutches of the ego-bruised men you’ve stolen from. It’s the same reason you haven’t burned him to a crisp as soon as you’ve seen him, the same reason you allow him to drag you back to his ship, cash you in for his bounty, and disappear.

There’s tension, but it’s more than tension. It’s something you can’t articulate because you’ve never quite felt it before. You doubt he has either.

The Mandalorian doesn’t answer. He seems to be staring down at the ankle cuffs, the metal twisted and deformed from where you’ve been heating it. He steps forward—

Suddenly, an invisible force loop around your waist and hoists you up, pulling you toward The Mandalorian. His arms are forced around your waist in jerky movements almost like an invisible puppeteer is pushing and plucking the strings. His helmet is yanked up over his neck, past his chin, stopping just above his nose, revealing plush lips and stubble and—

Your lips are forced together in the most awkward kiss you’ve ever had.

Both of you have your lips pressed tight, and the Mandalorian is rigid and tense, unsure of what to do. Still, energy blinks to life inside of you and you open your mouth just a little, embracing the kiss.

It lingers. It’s still awkward.

But then, he begins to kiss you back, his lips moving slightly, carefully, enough to taste hints of fine whiskey and your head begins to spin, embers sparking your lower belly, travelling up your spine, across your chest, down your arms—

It ends all too soon.

“Stop it, let us go,” The Mandalorian orders over his shoulder. You allow your eyes to follow his line of sight, snagging on the kid.

His tiny, pudgy hand is raised, his round eyes closed and you realise with a shock that he’s controlling you, bending the air around you both and forcing you into this kiss.

At the sound of his voice, the child stops, releasing his hold on you. He staggers a little, exhaustion seemingly crashing over him, dragging him under into unconsciousness. He collapses and the Mandalorian rushes forward to catch him, holding the child to his chest.

The Mandalorian disappears for a moment, giving you time to recover from your bewilderment. You’ve never seen anything quite like that before, and you’ve seen a lot of things. You have a feeling that in your past life, you may have witnessed a similar phenomenon, but you’re not giving enough time to dwell on it, however, because the Mandalorian comes storming back.

“So, you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

The Mandalorian ignores you, hunting around the cockpit for something.

“You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”

The Mandalorian stops, slants a look over his shoulder, “Maybe I will.”

You roll your eyes, “Please, Mando. Please tell me what the fuck just happened.”

The Mandalorian grasps a black bandage and whips it, stalking toward you, “Not what I meant.”

“What—?”

“—I’m sick of chasing you,” he growls, manoeuvring you around so he can fasten the bandage around your head; a makeshift blindfold, “It’s time you got what you deserve.”

Your stomach curdles, blood roaring in your ears. Carbon freezing. Your worst fear. You try to swallow, but it gets knotted somewhere in your throat.

“Kinky,” you rasp, trying your best to recover your slipping facade, “I hope my punishment involves whips and chains.”

The Mandalorians voice is in the shell of your ear, Mississippi hot and molasses thick, “Oh, you have no idea.”

Suddenly, he spins you around, and you barely have time to recover from the whiplash before his lips are on yours.

He’s ferocious, unforgiving. Just the way you like it.

He kisses you with a fiery passion, tongue darting into your mouth, tasting, teasing, his teeth digging into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. You moan, arching against him, wishing he’d free you so you could tug him closer but the Mandalorian keeps you bound and at his mercy.

You pull away, panting, as the Mandalorian trails kisses down your neck, sucking and biting and bruising the tender flesh. He’s obviously taken his helmet off while you were blindfolded. Curiosity strikes you but is dissolved when he finds the spot on your neck that makes you gasp.

“If—if I had known this would happen, I would’ve allowed myself to get caught a lot sooner,” you tease, a little breathlessly.

The Mandalorians fingers grasp your waist, pulling you closer, gripping you with bruising strength that dampens your panties. He chuckles against your skin, breath hot, tongue wet as he licks along your jugular.

“God I hate that mouth of yours,” he breathes, scraping his teeth across your skin, “It gets you into so much trouble.”

“It’s good for other things, too.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he grasps your waist with strong hands and spins you around, breath fanning across the back of your neck.

Your spine shudders and melts. He makes quick work of your clothes, starting with your sleeveless turtleneck top. He pulls it over your head and tosses it aside and unclasping your bra. With one hand pawing at your breast, he uses the other to tug on the zip of your skirt, pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet. He helps you out of your thigh-high boots and undoes the holsters strapped to your thigh. Next, he uncuffs your wrists and ankles until you’re wearing nothing but skin. His breath audibly tangles in his throat.

You snicker, biting your bottom lip, “My, my. Have I rendered the great Mandalorian speechless?”

A sharp stab of pain ripples across your ass cheek, followed by the rough ministrations of a strong, calloused hand. You gasp, relishing in the sting of pain and burst of arousal.

You moan. Your darkest fantasies have spilt from your daydreams and splashed themselves against the backdrop of reality. Finally, after three years of chasing and catching, the sexual tension sizzling between the two of you is resolved.

He steals the breath from your lungs as he kisses you deeply, your moans melting on his tongue. His fingers grip your breasts and you gasp, head lulling back as he rolls them in the palm of his hands.

“God,” you sigh, “You’re good at this.”

Suddenly, his lips are biting into your nipple and you arch into his mouth, fingers combing through his hair as he slurps and sucks on your nipple. Your thighs quiver as you tug on the roots of his hair and he groans. You can feel him poking into your thigh and your excitement builds quickly, your fingers pulling at his cape.

He steps away from your grasp with a low, drawling chuckle, rich with husk and desire and pure sex appeal.

“I’m in control,” he snarls, “You obey me. You hear?”

“Yes, master,” you whimper, skin crawling.

“Good.”

You hear the rasping of fabric and the whirr of zipper teeth being pulled apart. His footsteps, heavy with purpose, move around you; there's a clang of metal and then he’s behind you again, loosening your blindfold until it falls away.

The Mandalorian whirls you around, pushing you up against the control board. He’s still fully clothed and his helmet is now fixed onto his neck and while you had been curious about the face that hides behind that helmet, you can’t deny that the thought of him fucking you in his bounty armour is unbelievably sexy.

The only thing that’s missing is — of course — the codpiece. Your shiver completely rattles your entire frame, anticipation bubbling deliciously in your veins.

The Mandalorian steps forward and reaches into his pants, pulling out his cock.

You salivate.

He’s...huge. Probably the biggest and thickest cock you’ve seen (and you’ve seen a lot in your lifetime — part of the job). It makes you wonder how he jams that beast into his pants without damaging something. You slide your tongue over your lips as you watch him stroke himself, smearing precum over the bulging, purple helmet.

“Touch yourself.”

You obey, spreading your legs far apart so he can watch your fingers dance. Behind his mask, you can feel his eyes smouldering as you tease your clit, rubbing the pearl of nerves with your index and middle finger. You moan, tossing your head back, building up quite the rhythm while the Mandalorian watches.

You startled slightly when the Mandalorian runs his hands over your smooth thighs, mapping you out with his fingers. He’s gentle, appreciating the warmth of your skin, how you glow with desire and emit a natural, golden aura common among Nixes.

“It’s been a while since...” he trails off, shaking his head.

With a sudden burst of strength, he grips your legs and hoists them around his waist. And, impatiently, unceremoniously, he slides inside of you.

“Fuck,” you curse, gripping his broad shoulders.

Moans spill into the air as the Mandalorian begins to move, rolling his hips against you. The cool metal of his armour shocks your hot skin but the contrast of steaming heat and icy cold makes your eyes roll back and your heart hammer impossibly fast.

“Yes, yes, oh Jesus yes!”

The Mandalorian’s pace begins to build as he slams into you. He’s rough and unapologetic and reaching depths inside of you that you didn’t know existed. He pounded with frenzied, sharp movements, his hand snaking up your side to your neck where his fingers hugged and tightened. His other hand stays secured on your hip, bruised already starting to form from where his grip burns into you.

Your fingers skim across your damp skin, trailing down to your clit where your fingers circle and pinch. The Mandalorian — silent until now — groans as he watches you, his pace speeding up ruthlessly.

“I’m close,” he grunts, giving your neck a squeeze.

“So am I,” you hiss, locking your legs around him.

The friction of his armour against your hot skin, the pressure of his strong hand gripping your begging neck, his cock ploughing into you with incredible strength; it’s an overwhelming indulgence to the senses and you feel your hot core begin to glow, crackling with cosmic energy.

The air, thick with sex and insatiable heat, shimmers and ignites with tiny tongues of fire like hovering fireflies. The Mandalorian hasn’t noticed yet, but it doesn’t take him long until he does.

“(Y/N)––“

He’s cut off by the cry that issues from your swollen lips. Your pussy clenches and quivers around his cock as you tumble over the edge, crashing into a release that completely drowns your body in mind-numbing pleasure. The Mandalorian is right behind you, grinding out pieces of your name as he meets his own release.

Panting, you sit up and he rests his head on your shoulder. Around you, the small flames have exploded into tiny fireworks, lighting up the air with vibrant light.

You slide off the control board, climb back into your clothes and pull on your boot. You reach for the other boot but the Mandalorian grabs it first, kneeling to slide the boot onto your foot. You watch, mesmerised, as he pulls the inner zip up your leg and along your thigh.

Moments later, the electronic doors to the cockpit slide open and the child waddles forward, gazing innocently up at you. You step forward and give the Mandalorian a questioning look. He nods.

You bend down and scoop the child into your arms and he snuggles against your chest.

“I really love this kid,” you murmur, beaming down at him.

“Yeah, he’s alright,” The Mandalorian shrugs, approaching you so he can tug at the child’s cloak. He pulls it over the child’s face, keeping his neck warm.

“We have to name him,” you decide, “I can’t keep referring to him as the kid.”

You say it like you’re staying with them, trapesing across the universe together.

The Mandalorian, however, doesn’t disagree.

The handcuffs and ankle cuffs stay in their place on the floor.

[chain-unchained]

December 17

The rustic twang of country guitar played over the jukebox in the Saloon. Sundays were far from the busiest days for the establishment, but there was always a handful of regulars that would come by, and someone would always plonk a few coins into the machine. The music was never loud enough to make conversation difficult; it was just there as background ambience.

It was a familiar song to Ashe as he stepped in through the door. By this point he’d visited so many times that he knew just about every track on the old machine. And this was one that he remembered fondly; he would often listen to it with his mother. Before the illness.

“Hey, there you are!”

Emily’s smile was a mile wide as she hastened around the counter to greet him. “It’s been forever since you stopped by.”

“Emily!” The hug they shared was mutual. “Sorry, just—I’ve been so busy.”

“No need to apologize. I’m just happy to see you again.” She held him back at arm’s length to study him with a critical eye. “You doing okay now?”

“Ah—” His cheeks flushed, and he looked anywhere but at her. “Yeah. I’m better. Definitely better.”

The smile was half-forced, half-genuine, and 100% embarrassed. It felt so awkward, having so many people ask him how he was doing these last few days. The same kind of awkwardness as standing there while people sang happy birthday.

“I’m glad to hear that. Don’t start pushing yourself too hard again, okay?” She gave his shoulders a squeeze. “You’ve got people you can talk to.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” With another smile she let him go. “Well then, let me show you to the back. Shane’s waiting for you.”

The blush deepened. “He is? Am I late or something?”

“No no. He just got here early. Right this way.”

She led Ashe through the short swinging saloon doors to the left of the room. His heart began to flutter in his chest; it wasn’t their first date, but… this felt different to the gridball game. He didn’t know what to expect.

They made their way down the hall and to the private dining room. A ‘reserved’ sign hung from the hook in the center of the door, which sat slightly ajar. A different song was playing through the crack; it was softer, melodic.

‘Oh no—was I supposed to dress fancier?’

A nervous thought raced through Ashe’s mind as they drew near. The music sounded almost classical, and he couldn’t help but feel like maybe he should have dressed up a bit more.

“Hey, Emily?”

She stopped and turned back to him. “Yeah?”

“Um, is my outfit okay?”

“Hmm…” She observed him again. “Do a little spin for me.”

He did, the anxiety rising at the unreadable expression on her face. It wasn’t like he’d come here in his farming best— dark-washed bootcut jeans, his lavender turtleneck beneath a white sleeveless vest, his good boots—but the insecurity was there. He couldn’t help but doubt.

After a moment, Emily’s face split into another smile. “Very cute—Shane’s going to go crazy.”

“Really?” Ashe’s face lit up at the praise and prediction both. It was a relief for a worry that he knew was unfounded. “Whew… Thank you~”

“Hey, there’s that sunshine smile! I was getting worried I wouldn’t get to see it before winter ends.”

 The private room was small, and quaint, styled much the same as the bar area. Paintings decorated the walls, and one of Emily’s own hand-woven rugs adorned the floor, upon which an aged oak table rested. The music was coming from a smaller radio resting atop a matching end table in the corner; candle wall sconces cast a warm and gentle glow upon the red hues of wood and fabric both.

Shane was already there, of course—and Ashe’s face turned several shades of tomato red as his eyes fell upon him. Though his back was to the door, it was clear that he’d cleaned up for tonight. His hair, which he’d been letting grow out, was freshly washed and styled; he wore a well-fitted, plain dark sweater tucked into new jeans, with a black leather belt. He turned his head in response to the door opening—he’d even gone so far as to shave.

“Hey, you made it…”

His own voice trailed off as his eyes fell on Ashe, and there was a moment of silence as they both just stared at each other, somewhat slack-jawed.

“Wow,” Emily looked between the two of them, “you really are made for each other. I’ll go and grab some menus and some drinks to get you started.”

She traipsed out, shutting the door quietly behind her. Shane cleared his throat, his face nearly as red as Ashe’s at that point.

“You, uh… you look good, chickadee.”

“Th-thanks.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Ashe shyly added, “you do too.”

Shane grinned self-consciously. “Heh, you think so? Kinda feels like my gut’s gonna bust through this sweater…”

Ashe tip-toed closer until he was completely leaning against him, and his voice trailed off. “You look amazing,” the farmer mumbled, his face hidden in the fabric of Shane’s chest. “I can’t handle it.”

That was enough to silence Shane’s self-doubt—or at least keep him from vocalizing it further. “Yoba, you’re too cute.” He took the opportunity to steal both a hug and a kiss from his boyfriend, lingering perhaps a bit longer thank he intended to upon his lips. “So… d’you wanna sit down?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

It was with only minor reluctance that Shane stepped away from him to pull one of the chairs out from the table. He gestured for Ashe to sit, and pushed the chair back into place when he did. All the while, he had to fight to keep his hands from shaking. It had been at least a decade since he’d been on a fancy dinner date like this before, let alone with someone he cared so deeply about. He wanted it to be perfect.

By the time he’d taken his own seat opposite Ashe, Emily had returned with glasses of ice water—lemon slices included—and two menus. “Here you go,” she said with another smile. “Take your time, and press the buzzer when you’re ready to order.”

“Thanks, Emily.”

She dipped back out the door again, and for a moment there was silence as they both skimmed the menu. “Order whatever you want,” Shane said, glancing up to see the conflicted look on Ashe’s face. “Don’t worry about prices. It’s my treat.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He grinned. “I can afford to splurge on my favorite dweeb every now and then.”

Ashe hid his blushing pout behind the menu. It was hard to focus on choosing, because every few seconds he couldn’t help peeking over the top to get another look at Shane.

“… What?” Shane caught him staring. “Did I nick myself when I was shaving or something?”

“N-No no—It’s just—” He hid behind the menu again, face redder than it had been before. “I-I never realized how good you look with long hair. Sorry, I’ll stop.”

Now it was Shane’s turn to become a tomato head. “Bud, you’re gonna give me an ego with all these compliments.” He looked through the menu a bit more. To be honest, he was in the mood for pizza, but he wanted to impress Ashe—

“Would you judge me if I said I wanted pizza?”

He lowered the menu to look at him again. There was a meek sort of grin on the farmer’s face, which he was quick to hide once more behind his own.

“Nevermind, I’ll—pick something else.”

“Actually, I was literally just thinking the same thing.” Shane dropped the menu onto the table. “Do you just wanna order a large and split it?”

“Oh my Yoba, yes please.”

So much for a romantic dinner. Shane’s expectations went out the door, and with them the hesitant awkwardness that hung in the air. It was like they both settled back into their skins, and once the 16-inch pie was on the table they dug in. No forks, no plates, just greasy slices in hand and a couple of paper napkins.

“Ahh, I’m in heaven~” Ashe practically melted into his chair. “Sssooo good…”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since I had one of his pizzas.” A long strand of cheese stretched out from Shane’s mouth to the slice he’d taken a bite from. The sign of a quality cheese pie. “This cheese didn’t come from Hanako, did it?” He joked.

“I wish it did! She’s still just a baby though. I was kind of thinking I might see about getting a full-grown cow in the meantime—sometimes I worry that she’s lonely, being in that big barn all by herself at night.”

“What about Silva?”

“Oh, well… Silva kind of picks on her a bit. I had Robin build her a stable.”

Shane sighed. “Bugaboo, I’m not gonna lie—that horse scares me.”

“I’m not giving her up.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that—” even though he really thought that was the best idea, “—I just want you to be extra careful with her. Please.”

The plea made Ashe deflate a bit. He picked up a strand of cheese that had fallen and nibbled on it before answering. “I will. Don’t worry, I haven’t tried to ride her yet. And I still really believe that she wouldn’t ever actually hurt me.”

“I sure hope that’s the case.”

Shane helped himself to another slice, hesitating only briefly in contemplation—it was going to be more calories to burn in the gym later—and taking a bite when he decided it was worth it.

After a minute, Ashe spoke again. “I, uh… I saw Dr. Vance yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s why you were gone. I was wondering.” Shane licked a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to answer, but how’d it go?”

“It went… good.” The farmer began to gently rock back and forth in his chair. “A lot of talking. It was harder than I thought it would be.”

Shane could see that he was getting nervous. Wiping his hand on one of the napkins, he held it out to Ashe across the table; after a moment, Ashe took hold of it. “Yeah, it can be like that sometimes. But it’ll get better. Might not ever be easy, but better.”

“I hope so.” The warmth of Shane’s hand was comforting, and the rocking ceased after a minute. Ashe even managed to smile as he added, “I’m getting really tired of crying my eyes out already.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s part of the process.”

“Did you cry?”

“Oh yeah. More than I’m comfortable admitting, honestly.” He laughed. “So yeah, don’t feel bad about it. It’s different for everyone, and some of us just gotta cry before we can start moving on.”

“Yeah… I guess so.” Ashe shifted in his seat. “… I know I’m the one who brought it up, but… can we talk about something else?”  

“Of course. Uhhh…” A stream of air blew past Shane’s lips as he fished around for a different topic. Of course now of all times he was drawing a blank.

“You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas.”

Shit, that was the one he was hoping to avoid. “Cos I don’t want anything. I’ve already got all that I could ask for.”

“Shane,” Ashe leaned forward a bit, a very serious expression on his face, “I’m gonna get you something. It might as well be something you actually want.”

“Oh! Shit, that reminds me. Would it be okay if Jas hung out at the farm with you tomorrow?”

Ashe blinked. “Uh—of course. Why?”

“Because me and Marnie are gonna get some shopping done in Zuzu. And both Penny and Jodi are gonna be busy, and I feel bad for all the times they babysit her already. We’ll pay you for it, of course.”

“Oh, nonono you won’t.” He shook his head.

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Use that money to get Jas an extra present.”

“Bud, believe me, she’s gonna have more presents than she knows what to do with.” Shane wiped his hands on his napkin again and took a sip of lemon water. “What about you? You haven’t told me what you want.”

Ashe went quiet. The truth was, what he wanted more than anything was something that he knew he could never get back. But… well, there was one other thing…

“I just don’t want to be alone. That… That’s all…”

This time Shane gently took hold of both hands. “Who says you will be? The Feast lasts all day, and you can hang out at the ranch with us after. Okay? Don’t even worry about that.”

“I-I’ll try.” Ashe drew a shuddering breath. The emotions had utterly blindsided him, but at least he’d managed to keep from crying… again. But he was going to end up with whiplash with how all over the place his emotions were.

“You know, there’s gonna be a big countdown in Zuzu on New Years’ Eve. Would you feel up to going?”

“… Y-Yeah.” He managed a small smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”  

[renaroo]

I have read your tags and obey, so: Cass/Brenda + Batfam + "unexpected addition to the family"?

A/N: You know me so well, Lu! How could I not do this one the second I saw it!?

Visitors Welcome

Brenda was from Blüdhaven.

That information meant different things to different parties, but from what Cassandra could tell it had the most vivid effect on Dick who restated the fact on numerous occasions while they got marching orders from Alfred. It was often the only part of the commentary he got out as well.

“Master Richard, please fetch me the navy table lining from the storeroom,” Alfred had said rather definitively while inspecting Tim’s job on the silver.

“She’s from Blüdhaven, Alfie,” Dick had retorted, even in the process of doing exactly as instructed.

It had been uttered so many times in the halls of the manor that morning that Cassandra had to speak out. Sitting curled up on a living room chair in her fluffy white robe and her hair sopping wet in a towel, she looked at the rest of the residents of Wayne Manor and asked, “What does he, um, mean?”

Damian rolled his eyes, arms firmly crossed against his chest. “Grayson is being dramatic.”

Which, of course, Cassandra knew but it didn’t help. So she looked to Tim who was picking at the silverware Alfred had handed him back.

“We lived there, too,” she said as if Tim needed reminding.

“I don’t know, Dick’s weird,” Tim said unhelpfully, far more concerned with the knife. “What was wrong with this one?”

“It isn’t polished, Master Timothy,” Alfred sighed testily.

“I thought it looked nice already,” Tim muttered before beginning to work on the knife again all the same. As he worked, he glanced up to Cassandra’s face and must have noticed her distinct uncertainty. “Dick still lives in Blüdhaven, Cass, I don’t think he means it as a point in the negative against her.”

“Yeah, Dick never says anything negative about ‘Haven while he’s home,” Duke said sarcastically as he entered the room from the kitchen. He was in nice pressed pants and had a polo shirt on that he was fussing with.

Immediately, Cassandra remembered everything Dick had said about Blüdhaven just since he came home that weekend. He talked about the traffic, the noise, the landlords, the corruption, the sidewalks. He had many comments to make about Blüdhaven in many tones of voice.

But, because it mattered to Cassandra, more then than ever, she knew that Dick’s exact tone was different on the subject of Brenda.

She’s from Blüdhaven.

“You look like you are joining the Gotham County Country Club,” Damian sneered at Duke.

Duke bristled. “I want to look good,” he said. “It’s important to Cass.”

Tim looked at his sweatshirt. “Should I change?”

“Yes,” Damian said without hesitation. “Take Thomas with you so he can change as well.”

Cassandra glanced over Damian curiously. He looked like a mini cat burglar in his black turtleneck and black slacks.   “Not changing?”

Damian squinted at her. “Why? Are you?” He gestured pointedly toward her robe and towel.

While she had planned on changing, Cassandra had not put much thought into what exactly she was going to change into. Brenda had seen her in a great many outfits by that point, from beat-up grunge to punk rocking party to leather-clad biker chick. Brenda had also seen what Batgirl looked like, but how much of that Brenda had connected to Cassandra was still a mystery.

Brenda visiting the manor felt as though it should have been something more remarkable, more different than those outfits.

“Maybe,” Cassandra finally answered truthfully.

“Miss Cassandra, with all due respect, you shall be entertaining guests in more than the robe from your bathroom floor,” Alfred said sharply.

That made Cass shift somewhat uncomfortably. Alfred didn’t seem to have much of an opinion on Brenda visiting, but he did have the air of anxiety that Cass saw in him whenever every single one of them was at the manor at the same time. As though he did not trust them to behave.

Which then brought Cassandra to a horrifying realization.

She probably shouldn’t trust her family with Brenda’s first visit either.

“Oh, no,” she said, burying her face in her hands.

Duke, Tim, and Damian all glanced at each other then back to Cassandra with mutual concern.

“This will be bad,” Cass finally surmised, rising to her feet and leaving the room. She nearly walked into Dick on her way and slid uncomfortably past the oldest of the Wayne children as he looked around in confusion.

Clinging to the navy table runner, Dick stiffened. “What? What is it? Did she call and cancel? She is from Blüdhaven.”

Cassandra let out a frustrated growl and kicked the door closed behind her, no doubt hitting Dick’s backside with the heavy oak.

***

It had been a lonely move to Blüdhaven.

Bruce had less suggested and more formally ordered Cassandra to make the move, to follow Tim into new territory and keep him safe. In hindsight, adding to Cassandra’s protective instincts had been a clever cover. More than anything, what Bruce had wanted was for Batman to be alone again after the gang wars in Gotham. Cassandra would have never let him had the circumstances been different.

But she needed the space, needed to branch out and become her own person. And at the time, she had thought becoming Batman was going to do that for her.

She still thought it, in some ways.

Less in others.

Such as, she knew that Bruce would have never met Brenda.

Brenda owned her own tea and coffee shop, was about as counterculture as they came, and had taken an interest in Cass in a way no one had.

At first, it was a simple misunderstanding about what Cassandra’s nightlife actually was. Later, it became something different. Routine.

After a while, there hadn’t been a single morning without Cassandra seeing Brenda, being in her shop, sharing her breakfast.

The routine was as much a part of Cassandra’s life as gearing up as Batgirl at night. And when Stephanie Brown came back into her life, suddenly Cassandra had someone else’s perspective on what was going on.

And, Cassandra could still see the funny look on Stephanie’s face when Brenda came by for their order.

“She didn’t ask for yours,” Steph pointed out.

“Oh, I’m,” Cassandra gestured unhelpfully, “the usual.”

“So you know each other,” the interrogation continued.

“Yes?” Cass answered back since she genuinely did not know where they could be going with any of it.

Stephanie gave a frustrated sound before scooting her seat in closer to the table, leaning in with her shoulders up as if guarding her words against any nearby listeners. “She smiled at you when you came in and did that little wave thing before dropping other customers to come talk to us.”

Squinting, Cassandra nodded. “Yeah?” Then, because it seemed relevant, “She smiles at customers.”

“Cass, she,” Steph made another noise and then gestured again but restrained by the tenseness of her shoulders, “gave you a smile-smile and not the service-worker-dead-on-the-inside-smile. I know the difference. I’ve given the difference. It’s very,” she paused and then gestured again, hands resting on the table definitively, “different.”

Somewhat offended, Cassandra placed a hand on her chest. “I know body language, Stephanie.”

“So you know you’re being flirted with?” Stephanie asked suspiciously, her voice growing quieter as Brenda approached with their orders.

Caught somewhat off guard, Cass continued to stare straight at her best friend’s face as Brenda sat down Cass’ normal breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and tea, then moved on to put down Stephanie’s waffles and coffee. Of which, Stephanie partook in the coffee almost immediately.

“Anything else I can help you all with?” Brenda asked, looking between the two of them. Her smile shifted from Steph to Cass, growing a certain softness in the corners just below the new nose ring that Cassandra had noticed the moment they walked in.

“Yes,” Cass said directly, “have we been flirting?”

Brenda’s face dropped into surprise and Stephanie choked and nearly died on her coffee.

It didn’t take too terribly long after making yet another scene in Brenda’s tea shop that Cassandra began to see Brenda outside of the shop more often. And in a month’s time, Cassandra realized horribly, terribly, that she was in deep. That she cared more about the relationship than she could have possibly imagined. And then, worst of all, that she needed to arrange to make things more formal, more official.

She had to get Bruce involved.

***

Long before getting others involved, Cassandra knew that Bruce Wayne, by definition, was bad at it. The whole deal.

The saying, the knowing, the doing.

What she had underestimated at the time, was how bad Barbara Gordon was at the same things.

“I just find it interesting,” Babs admitted. Her eyes were downcast, concentrating on flattening out the wrinkles in the outfit over her knees. “You were radio silent on me for so long, then we were talking regularly again. Stephanie gets into town and she gets more information out of you than I have for the better part of a year.”

Cass finished blow-drying her hair and glanced at her own image in the mirror. Her body was covered in scars and Cass hardly remembered where the majority of them came from. They bleakly lined her contours and muscles, traced out stories she had forgotten to tell over the years. They were all conversation starters, to be certain, but Cassandra was as bad at conversation as Barbara and Bruce were at the parent thing.

“Steph told you,” Cass tried to suss out, walking through the door from the bathroom to her room in the manor.

Barbara was in her chair, holding up the outfit that she helped Cassandra pick out. It was a gold, sleeveless blouse with a collar. The black pants were high waisted. It was nice, simple, eloquent.

Maybe too much? Maybe not enough?

“Where’s your jewelry?” Barbara redirected the conversation.

“Where’s yours?” Cass asked, rolling her eyes as she walked nakedly over to Babs.

“When he let me in, Alfred made it sound like you were about to have this whole thing happen with nothing but a robe on,” Babs mused. “Now you’re getting all fancy. And asking me girl advice, which is a nice change of pace.”

“Not why you’re here,” Cass groaned, putting on her underwear and glancing toward her shoes strewn across the room. Alfred had just cleaned up the room yesterday, too. “Here for Bruce.”

That got a wounded reaction from Barbara and she crossed her arms. “Why in the world would I be here for Bruce?”

Cassandra pulled a face and took her pants from Barbara’s lap. “Because he gets… weird.”

“Well, he is the expert at that where any of your romantic lives are concerned,” Barbara admitted, tapping a finger on her chin. “One time when Dick and I were younger…”

After Cassandra pulled on her pants she glanced curiously at Barbara. She wasn’t certain where the Oracle was going with the story.

After a faint blush appeared on Babs’ cheeks, she shook her head and threw Cass’ blouse at her. “Forget it. My point is that I understand a little bit better. But, Cassie,” she paused and then looked up at Cassandra with furrowed brows, “don’t you think I would be interested in meeting this girl who is so important to you, too? You’re… you’re my girl. I worry about you. I care about you. And I hoped, even though we had a rough patch, you’d know I would still want to have a part in your life, too.”

“Of course,” Cass said easily, because it was that simple. “You’ve always been like,” she stopped and rose to her full height again. When she looked down at Barbara and could see the way Babs held her breath with uncertainty. “You’ve always been like a mother.”

“Oh,” Barbara said, releasing that breath. “I just thought you needed… I only wanted…” Closing her eyes, Barbara put a hand on her heart and grew a soft smile. “Thank you, Cass.”

“Right,” Cass said, offering a small smile in return. She then pointed toward her door. “But Bruce is… Dad. And he is…”

Without notice, the door to Cassandra’s bedroom flew open and Bruce stood in it. He had a stern look on his face and was dressed in identical black turtleneck and slacks to Damian. His chest was puffed up and his hair slicked back with mousse. It was the oddest combination of Brucie Wayne and Batman that Cassandra had ever seen in his posture.

Then he looked down at the two of them.

“The company is approaching from the Southgate,” he informed them grimly.

The women stared back at him.

“Yes, well, that would be the driveway, Bruce,” Barbara offered.

Slowly, Bruce nodded before walking down the hall.

Cassandra glanced at Barbara at the same time she glanced back to Cass. She was still pointing at the door. “Weird,” Cass finished at last.

“Oh god,” Babs sighed, rubbing tiny circles into her temples. “It’s going to be one of those nights.”

***

Brenda was beautiful.

Cassandra had wanted to rush down the staircase of the manor and open the door herself, but she knew that Alfred made for a better greeting. And Cass was there, in the foyer, almost as quick all the same.

There was an unsettled way Brenda tucked hair behind her ear, in the way she laughed nervously behind the glint of her glasses. But she was regal. A cream top with a red cardigan that just popped with her hair. She had on a simple skirt and boots, and Cassandra had never felt coolness radiate from a wardrobe the way Brenda’s always did. All the nervous energy built up and Brenda was still just cool and awesome and the person that Cassandra was most interested in spending the rest of her afternoon with.

When Brenda’s gaze fell on Cass, she melted into an easier gait and smiled — that real smile Stephanie had been talking about — and walked quickly to meet Cass and take her into a gentle hug.

Because she could not resist, Cassandra made a point to tighten the embrace.

“Thanks for coming,” Cass breathed against Brenda’s neck.

“How could I say no?” Brenda laughed in return. She held Cass back just enough to look her in the face. “Oh, look at that, I didn’t know you could look worried.”

Cass scrunched up her face in confusion. “I am?”

“If you’re not worried then you’re definitely constipated,” Brenda joked, lightly tapping Cass with her elbow. “But I seriously hope you’re worried because it’d be nice to not be the only one nervous.”

As she looked over Brenda, over the time they had had, over the infinite number of small moments where the woman went out of her way to show her true character to a complete stranger, Cass smiled. With both her hands, she took in Brenda’s hand and squeezed tightly. She felt over the calloused hands of a hard worker, of a business owner thin from feeding the hungry more than herself.

“No reason to be nervous,” Cassandra assured her.

Brenda stared back lovingly.

The gaze between them might have never broken off if Bruce hadn’t swept in from nowhere and clapped a hand on Brenda’s shoulder.

“If it isn’t our dear Miss Miller!” He said with gravitas more fitting of opening a charity function than of welcoming a daughter’s girlfriend.

“Bruce,” Cass said flatly.

“O-oh! Hello, Mr. Wayne,” Brenda muttered, words blending together as she looked starstruck. “Wow, you’re really tall. I don’t know why I didn’t think you were. Cass is just not tall. And I know she’s adopted. Uh, not that adopted families are different. Just that she’s not tall. And I haven’t met you. And you’re tall.”

As soon as the fountain of words had stopped spilling over Brenda’s lips, she looked frantically to Cass.

Cass just stared back at her in confusion.

“How is your business doing?” Bruce asked, voice growing sharper as his brows settled over his eyes. It was suspiciously cowl-like.

“Bruce,” Cass repeated.

“It’s totally fine,” Brenda laughed awkwardly, offering a thumbs up. “Thanks to a fantastic business program I got into. Through Wayne Enterprises, actually.”

“No kidding,” Bruce said without even the ability to feign surprise.

“He’s being weird,” Cassandra said more to herself than to Brenda or Alfred.

“Indeed, Miss,” Alfred sighed in a long-suffering fashion.

“Wow, a small business is doing well in Blüdhaven?” Damian’s voice droned from the back of the hall.

Cassandra’s head snapped toward the end of the hall where she could see all four of her present brothers’ heads leaning out from behind the same door. Dick leaned over and softly bopped Damian over the back of his head.

“Shh, only people in Blüdhaven can say that,” Dick informed their youngest.

Brenda was looking distinctly overwhelmed as she glanced back over to Cassandra.

“Brothers,” she said, waving her hand to indicate each head from tallest to shortest. “Dick. Duke. Tim. Damian.” She then pointed to a photograph along the wall of Jason. “Not present.”

“Oh, boy,” Brenda laughed nervously. “I didn’t quite, uh, get the message on how big of a crowd this was going to be. Lots of names to remember.”

Bruce was unmoved, his arms crossed as he leaned in with fake curiosity. “Damian is right about the turnover rate for small businesses in inner Blüdhaven being unusually high. I know the general neighborhood where Cassandra was living, too. How is business? Have you considered diversifying your retail?”

“Retail?” Brenda laughed as she repeated. “Um, I suppose I could. It’s… a tea shop, though.”

Cassandra released a pained noise and pushed on Bruce’s shoulders to get him to step away and toward the kitchen. “Stop! You’re being weird. It’s just like Super—“ she stopped herself and glanced back to Brenda before pushing Bruce along again. “Conner.”

Even the mention of the prior relationship made Bruce stiffen and become immovable. “Is it?”

“Bruce!” Barbara barked, pushing her chair from the lift’s hallway. She glared at Bruce and made a point of bumping his leg as she passed him to get to Brenda. He didn’t let out a grunt but he moved and Barbara was free to shake Brenda’s hand. “Hey there, I’m Barbara. You must be the absolutely stunning young woman Cassandra has been so happy with recently. We’re very excited to see you. If you can’t tell.”

Unhelpfully, Cass gestured to Barbara. “They’re being weird,” she expressed.

“Yes, Cassie, that’s what they do,” Babs said. “I’ll wrangle them all while you show Brenda the lay of the land.” She then looked affectionately toward Brenda and said, “We’re a weird bunch here because we love Cass a lot. And we’re just happy to meet someone who’s made her happy. So forgive us, but you’ll get used to it as part of the family.”

Barbara was fearless as she grabbed Bruce by the elbow and led him toward the dining room where the boys were standing. He walked along, asking how he was being weird as Alfred followed with a shake of his head. And at that moment, Cassandra remembered all over again why Barbara Gordon was her hero.

“Part of the family, huh?” Brenda asked, looking sidelong at Cass. “Think you’ll keep me around that long.”

Sighing with relief, Cass squeezed Brenda’s hand and nodded again. “Yes.”

[daraanna]

Broken promise part 3/3

She ran through the training fields, trying to get as far as possible from the village gates. Her behaviour was not rational, she shouldn’t react this way, and yet at the sight of her friend her emotions got out of control again. She should be happy to see him safe and sound and she was. The problem was, along with the feeling of relief, that everything was fine, anger and a sense of hurt appeared, as well as a lot of other emotions which she couldn’t  name.

"Is everything okay?" A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. She stopped running just before she collided  the black-haired man who appeared in front of her. How distracted she would have to be to not feel his chakra.

"Yes ... Uh ... I was running for training," she said, meeting her dad's incredulous eyes. It was a really poor excuse considering her office clothes. Not to mention high heels “ Just a tough day ... That's it.”

“Hn. Good to see you. You grew up ...” he answered without looking away from her. He knew something was wrong. However, he didn't want to push it. It was up to her to decide what she wanted to tell him.

“Mom should finish work in an hour.”

"Ah." There was silence again. ‘I missed you’ left never spoken by anyone. However, none of them was good at stating the obvious things. No matter how important they were.

She couldn't help but giggle. Her father raised one eyebrow in surprise.

"Let’s go home, maybe we can cook something before she returns," she said, heading in direction of their house. Sasuke followed her. Embarrassing silence became comfortable and normal again.

............................................................... The next day after his return, he spend for rest. So, when he finally decided to drag himself out of bed, his father had been at work a long time ago, and his mother was cooking dinner. Coming to the kitchen, he greeted her briefly and wandered into the fridge.

"There's some breakfast left to heat you up for you" Hinata said, looking at her son. These three years changed him a lot. He was already taller than her, he looked much more mature, from a boy he became a young adult.

"Thanks mom” he replied, preparing the pans, but when she saw how he struggled with it, she decided to help him. Maybe some things don't change at all.

“Wooo mom is so good! “ Uzumaki shouted after the first bite ”I missed your cooking...”

She couldn't help smiling.

At this moment Himawari entered the living room clearly not in a good mood. She was all wet and shivering with cold, only covered with Kawaki's .

"What was she thinking?!" They heard a fragment of conversation between newcomers.

"What happened?" asked blue-eyed boy from above breakfast.

“My sensei came up with the brilliant idea of ​​sparring in the middle of a fucking lake! Chakra control training my ass!”

"Himawari!" Her mother reprimand her. Boruto, on the other hand, was shocked to hear such words from the lips of his lovely sister.

"I still thank for your coat," younger Uzumaki sighed, looking at Kawaki who enters the room after her .

"You are welcome, the most important thing is that you don't catch a cold," the boy replied. Himawari hearing his words smiled and kissed his cheek making him blush. Then she ran to her room to change.

Boruto looking at their interactions raised an eyebrow in amazement. Their behaviour was strange ...

Kawaki still flushed sat down at the table.

"Speaking of sparring ... It would be good to check the progress after 3 years, what do you say?"

"Sounds good, but not today ... I should have time on Thursday," answered the black-haired man with a smirk. Despite the fact that Uzumaki felt offended by his answer, he decided to leave it, because on Thursday he will rip that smirk off his face.

................................................................. The fight lasted probably an hour and a half before he managed to defeat Kawaki. It  was intense, they both were exhausted and the training field was devastated. After all, he had to admit that he was impressed of the level presented by his brother at many times he doubted his victory, and when they used karma, he sometimes began to fear for his own health. Despite the fact that they both gave their best, neither of them had lose their control over the seal.

"I won!" he shouted panting, sitting next to the opponent.

“You were lucky, besides, I was getting worse ...”sighed the black-haired man, combing his hand with his mohawk ”We'll see how you will manage in the rematch!”

"Be careful about your  wishes" the blond replied, grinning, "I missed our sparings" he added after a moment.

"Without you village was unbearably calm" answered his brother. "A lot has changed too ..."

They sat in silence for a while.

"How was your conversation with Sarada?" Kawaki finally asked.

“Huh? Actually, I haven't seen her since returning to the village" he answered thoughtfully. "Is it true that they were promoted to Jounin?”

"It's been a week since you came back and you still haven't talked to her?" His sudden reaction shocked Boruto.

“What do you mean!?”

"You're just worthy each other" sighed the black-haired boy getting up from the ground and dusting off his pants.

“Oi! Answer me”

“You really didn't get the idea to talk with her after the way you two split up before your trip?”

Blue-eyed looked at his friend confused. Seeing this, Kawaki headed towards the city.

“ That’s waste of my time”

............................................................... Sarada was sitting on her favourite branch eating onigiri prepared by her mother. Of course, because her dad is back home, it was stuffed with tomato. Still, it didn't bother her. Team 3 slowly began to developed great teamwork. Although it was mainly due to aversion to her strange training methods, it was the best proof that these methods work. The problem was that since her childhood friend returned to the village, her concentration had worsened. Days passed, and she was still not able to sort out the emotions stirring in her. She felt hurt, and the fact that Boruto didn't seem to want to meet her made her doubt that their friendship meant anything to him. She was so thoughtful that she didn't sense his chakra before it was too late.

........................................

Kawaki's words did not give him peace for a long time. Before leaving the village, he invited Sarada to spar to tell her about his trip, he also gave her his necklace. Just thinking about it made him blush slightly. He did not plan this, however, spontaneously decided to leave her something. Despite this the next day, the black-haired girl had something urgent to do and did not come to say goodbye to him. The whole story. However, the next days passed and he still did not see his childhood friend. When they were members of the seventh team, he repeatedly saw her completely by accident on the streets of the village, and now even looking for her, he could not find her. It was a strange feeling, but Konoha without Sarada seemed empty. Today he decided that he would not let go until he solved this problem. After three hours of wandering the streets, he was about to give up when he felt her chakra when he was passing by training fields. The signal was barely perceptible and intermittent, but there was no mistake. He walked towards her, reaching the edge of the village to a wooded area not specially adapted for training, but it could be seen where the traces of the Kunas or ninjutsu were used. Black-haired girl was sitting on a tree branch holding a bento in her hands, her eyes focused on him.

"Hey ..." he greeted. Uchiha did not take his eyes from him, just put the food container aside.

"Hey," she answered, when he climbed onto the branch and crouched next to her. "What do you want?"

It wasn't the reaction he expected, for a moment he didn't know what to do.

"We haven't seen each other for a long time ..."

“Tch. Did you come here just to tell me that?”

"What wrong with you?!" He asked irritated, raising his voice more than he intended. He couldn’t understand his friend's behaviour.

Sarada felt rage rising in her. This is not how she imagined this meeting. The worst thing was that the boy acted as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't left her, their team for three years, without being kind to even let her know. The whole village knew it! Shikamaru and Team 5 even organized him a farewell party. After so much time she still felt betrayed, hurt ... But it was much easier to replace it with rage.

“What wrong with me? Maybe you'd better think about yourself? Suddenly you remembered about me!?”

Boruto looked at her in ever greater consternation. The girl was pissed at him, but he did not remember him doing something stupid since he returned to the village. Trying a gentler approach, he touched her shoulder. However, the girl quickly pulled his hand away.

"Leave me alone!" She shouted.

"What about spar?" He asked, since they can't easily handle it, maybe the fight will help get rid of negative emotions.

"You don't want to fight me" she snorted, turning away from him. "Just walk away!"

“Of course I want to! You owe me a rematch!” For a long time she looked him straight in the eye and he was sure that if look could kill he would be dead long ago.

"Fine!" She shouted, hopping off the tree. "But don't whine that I won again."

“Don't be so sure of yourself. I trained with the best, there is no way for me to lose!“ he smiled standing in front of her.

"Any rules?" She asked unbuttoning her red coat. So it was hard to focus on the question she was asking right now. Uchiha was wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck and leggings of the same color separated by a wide white belt with tools attached. The outfit was elastic, perfect for fighting or training. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it adhered exactly to her body curves, perfectly emphasizing her figure. Much more rounded than it three years ago. He swallowed hard. This is not something should now think and certainly not about Sarada ...

“ Boruto ?!”

"Um ... no scientific ninja tools, we're fighting till someone lose consciousness or surrender of the opponent," he answered when he heard her irritated voice.

"Okay," she agreed, pulling the belt and the device from her right hand aside. The blond man got rid of his chakra sword.

They gazed at each other for couple seconds. Uzumaki attacked first, the girl responded quickly with counterattack. They started by exchanging taijutsu blows. After three years, Uchiha became much faster, she didn't even need Sharingan to avoid his blows. However, he was faster, not allowing her to attack him. Seeing this, the black-haired woman hopped away from him, throwing kunais at him, from which he shielded himself using Kusanagi borrowed from master Sasuke. Moments later he was again on the attack, using purple-lighting jutsu on the sword, he attacked, cutting through the kunai that Sarada used to block, but to his surprise, moments later his blade stopped. Black-eyed has parried his attack creating a small scalpel with a chakra on her index and middle finger. Despite its small size, the blade was filled with chakra much more intensely than those used by medical ninja.

"A really bad choice of weapon for an opponent," she sighed as, to his surprise, her jutsu chipped his katana. Before he could react, Uchiha used the chidorii, which, passing her scalpel on his Kusanagi, struck him by throwing him five meters back. The sword he used was created to interact with the master Sasuke chakra, so the chidorii was better transmitted through the steel of the katana than his jutsu. As soon as he landed on the ground Sarada was already here, using clones he managed to distract her and hide in the crown of the nearest tree. Deprived of the weapon he had learned to use over the past two years, he needed some time to devise a new strategy. Uchiha stood in the middle of the field thinking about using katana, which was now in her hands. She knew the basics of Kenjutsu, but it did not match her fighting style, and she did not want to damage the tool that meant so much to her dad. She decided to put them aside, hoping that Boruto would come out of hiding trying to get them back. The moment she did it, three kunais flew towards her, which she easily avoided. She was about to use the fireball technique on the tree from which he attacked, when two blades flew towards her from another place. Both these and previous ones had wire attached to them. The next kunai flew towards her creating a certain pattern. Seeing this, she threw shurikens to change their track. Moments later, the boy attacked once again starting taijutsu battle.

"Is it really irritating you so much that I went on a journey with your father? You could have said something earlier" Uzumaki shouted, parrying more blows. Her fighting style has changed a lot from the one he remembered. So far, she has never used her strength against him, but what confused him most was the fact that she never once activated her sharingan.

“When? You didn’t even have time to tell me you were leaving!”

Her words beat him out of tune.

"I didn’t?" He asked, but because of his lack of concentration he didn’t avoid punch measured directly into his chest, which sent him straight into his own trap made of kunais and ropes. Lines entangled him, preventing him from moving. The impact was so strong that it broke him a few ribs, making his breathing difficult.

Sarada stopped motionless for a moment, looking up at what had happened. She was convinced that the boy had time to avoid it, in addition, provoked by his words, she used more force than she should. However, her worry turned into horror when Karma on his hand began to grow to the limit when a horn appeared on his head.

Boruto felt like he was losing consciousness, apparently the impact was stronger than he had expected. In addition, he felt a familiar tingling in his hand as Momoshiki's chakra began to flood him. His fractures healed, but his consciousness began to flow. He couldn't afford to lose control, certainly not in the middle of the village. To his surprise, a strong push pulled him out of the trance. Sarada grabbed his wrist and a moment later he felt a painful injection of a huge amount of chakra. Moving his eyes to the girl, he saw black patterns covering her body, they resembled his karma pattern, but they were more regular and covered her skin symmetrically. Instinctively, he pushed her away, trying to free himself from uncomfortable feeling, and to his surprise he noticed that the patterns on his body disappeared completely, and the diamond on his hand was secured with something like a seal. Before he could react, he heard a sound like the twittering of a bird. Uchiha stood maybe 20 meters from him with the chidori in her right hand. At this stage, both of them were already at a low chakra level, probably this will be the last attack of this duel. Despite the current pain, he performed rasengan. They ran opposite each other, but before their jutsu collided Sarada grabbed his right hand with her left by the wrist and knocked him off directing his rasengana to the ground and him to the floor. Moments later, he felt her weight on him. Again he was nailed to the ground, her chidori detained just two centimeters from his neck, so that he felt his hair stand as a result of electricity.

"I give up" he said, getting the sand out of his mouth.

The twittering stopped and the girl got up from his back. Slightly wavering because of small amount of chakra, he stood up, turning to look at her.

“I-I told you...” Black-haired girl started, but before she finished the sentence, she lost her balance turning over into Uzumaki’s chest sending them both back to the ground. She definitely overdid the consumption of chakra she was barely able to maintain consciousness. Boruto was definitely in better shape, he was still able to maintain a seated position and to hold her now leaning against his torso. She should move away from him, but she didn't have the strength to keep be mad at him. Even worse, she didn't even want it. For the first time in 3 years everything was fine. She felt safe.

"I was sure I told you ... Then during the sparring" his voice made her tremble. “I’m sorry”

She still felt hurt, but she seemed pointless to her further grudge.

"I'm sorry too ... I overreacted a bit ..." she replied sighing. Still, she couldn't look him in the eye. All this time she blamed him for everything bad that had happened in her life in his absence. It was only now that she understood that her behavior was absurd. She understood that she really missed her friend all this time. Embracing him in the neck, she snuggled into him.

"I missed you," he said, gently stroking her back. She felt her tears welling up. She said nothing but squeezed him harder.

“How did you manage to keep up with me without activating Sharingan? “ Boruto broke the silence.

“ I put you under genjutsu so you couldn’t see when I activated it.”

“What!? It's a cheating! ” He shouted, making a face that made the girl laugh.

"There was no rule about using genjutsu ..." she replied, but he heard her laugh, his heart beat faster, he was not able to be angry with her anymore.

"Okay, what have you done to me here?" The boy asked looking at his hand. He still felt a tingling sensation in it, but the seal around his karma was gone.

“This is the technique we developed, me, Kawaki and Sumire. It allows you to stop the spreading of karma for a while, but to use it you must have a byakugo seal“ she said and revealed a small diamond seal located on her breastbone.

The boy turned his gaze on her neckline.

"Nice place," he replied grinning. Uchiha immediately blushed.

"Uh ... It's not like that ... Sharnigan took too much chakra from me, I was not able to accumulate them in the frontal sinus, so close my eyes ..." She said embarrassed.

"Oh," something else caught his eye at the moment. A silver chain that he noticed on her neck. When he gently pulled him, he saw a screw-shaped pendant. The same one he wore in his childhood and same that he gave her before leaving. Sarada was silent for a moment.

"I missed you too," she admitted, looking into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere anymore," he replied. Their faces were separated by a small distance, which was slowly getting smaller. Black-haired girl looked at the boy's lips, then moments later again look into his blue iris. Her heart was still pounding, and there was a thought in her head to kiss him. At the same time, she felt fear. They haven't seen each other for so long, and they were friends. Friends are not kissing! However, her race of thoughts was interrupted when she felt the touch of Boruto's lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss, a bit clumsy. Despite this, as soon as he moved a little away from her, she drew him closer to her deepening their kiss. They continued it until they were out of breath.

Young Uzumaki was confused. It wasn't something he expected, but he didn't regret the kiss. Judging by her smile, Sarada too. It was a new yet undefined thing in their relationship. But now they will have a lot of time to rediscover their bond.

                             ............... Filler Bonus ..............

* Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke and Hinata hidden in the bushes watching the battle of Boruto and Sarada * Hinata: I can't believe it happened ... Sakura * looking at Sasuka and Naruto* I swear If they gonna amputate their arms you will feel my anger! Naruto: It's not our fault! Sakura: It's your genes that are responsible for this! Sasuke: Tch. Naruto: Hinata help ;-; Hinata: I'm sorry darling, but it's true ... Sasuke: It wouldn't happen if your son wasn't an idiot. Naruto: It's not my son's fault! You know how it is between rivals! Sakura & Hinata: Rivals ... riiiiiiiiiight ... * Boruto and Sarada Rasengan vs Chidorii scene * Naruto: I can't look at it! * Sarada turns over Boruto * Sasuke: ... Naruto: ... Sasuke: I never thought  about it... Sakura: This is my daughter Shanarooo! Hinata: They are talking now... Looks like it's the end of drama. Naruto: Yes, we can probably come back home. * Boruto and Sarada are kissing * Naruto: ... Sasuke: ... Naruto: ... Sasuke: !!! Sakura: Awwww ... Hinata it is happening! Hinata: Yes, we can go back to organizing the wedding! Sakura: We will be family! Sasuke: * dark aura * Not if I kill him ... Naruto: SASKEEEEEEE NOOOOOO!

...........................................................................................

Oh holy Kaguya... It is finally over! It took me so long to write it. And honestly the end result is completely different from my initial plan (for example at the beginning they were about to start make out in the middle of theirs fightXD) But I hope you will like it anyway :) 

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ & ʟᴇᴀʀɴ | 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶!! Hitmen AU! [Kageyama x F!Reader] Drabble

[Part 2]

Decided to write up a quick little drabble for this AU! So here’s some Kags training you before the mission~! The Nekoma head canons will come out slowly throughout this week~! so I hope you guys are excited for them~! ^^ hehe

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

It wasn’t a career choice your parents would’ve approved of, but it definitely did help pay the bills. Especially after graduating high school and being thrown out in the cold harsh world, but what more could you do? With the desire and need to survive, it would only be a matter of months-- hell maybe even weeks before you were suddenly another statistic on the list of homeless that just got caught up in the wrong thing.

Luckily, that never came to be as you stood before a rather intimidating male. As far as you were aware, the person who recruited you said your mentor would be someone close to your age, but did they have to look this intimidating? Not to mention he looked absurdly good in the sleeveless turtleneck. 

“...Osu.” 

Jumping out of your fantasies, you finally met the icy blue gaze of the male before you. Bringing your own hand up into a small wave you couldn’t help but feel nervous about this initiation mission. You didn’t have many skills besides people watching and some basic medical knowledge; yet here they wanted you to already handle a gun? 

“Here, you can use the pistol for the basics. I’ll take you out back to do some quick warm-ups before I let you shadow me.” 

Calm and collected, he turned and began walking towards the back of the base. Though as you failed to follow an irate look passed his features as he gave you a sharp glare.

Gulping, you hurried to his side as the heavy weight of the gun sat on your palms. 

ⳮⷤ ── ⲇ ── ⳮⷤ

Once outback, you couldn’t help but notice the loud commotion to your left. Chancing a glance, you saw a ginger haired boy running around, sparring against another with jet black hair with a bleached patch in the center. 

At first nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though that soon quickly changed as you jolted in shock at the yelling and rather chaotic way the pair decided to spar. Not even a moment later did another join and another was...dragged? 

“BOKE!” 

Surprised, you looked to your mentor to see him seething, about ready to turn the ginger haired boy into dust as the ginger gulped, nervously smiling as he began backing up.

“Oh! Kageyama! Ahaha, I know you said you were going to train the rookie-- but I just couldn’t pass by an opportunity to train with Noya-senpai since he came back!” The ginger whined as your mentor, now identified as Kageyama, went to take a step forward. 

Though before he could even so much as strangle the poor ginger, you subconsciously went and grabbed at his shirt. Pinching the soft yet sturdy material as you tugged. Of course this brought all the attention onto you as you kept your gaze away from his piercing, yet confused gaze.

“You still need to teach me right? You’d only waste time if you went and did...whatever you were going to do.” You muttered, willing for the group of rambunctious boys to take this as their cue to leave.

Thankfully, they did-- with the help of the dragged member -- they escaped the backyard as the one called Noya obnoxiously laughed at the ginger haired boy’s wallowing. 

Slowly, you let go of his shirt as you kept your gaze away from him. His scrutinizing stare making you uncomfortable as you shifted from side to side. 

“So...are you gonna teach me?” 

Silence. Uncomfortable and dreadful silence. Unable to take anymore of it, you finally looked up to apologize but was cut short as he looked away. Slightly flustered before excusing himself to set up some cans.

“....huh?” Confusion was all that took over your mind as you stared at the way he stiffly moved about before beckoning you over.

You did as he instructed with hesitance as he began showing you the basics of how to not only hold and use the gun, but to care for it so that it continued to work for years on. Luckily, his awkward and stiff motions began to relax as the previous mini episode seemed to evaporate from both of your minds.

Then came the part where you had to shoot. Taking aim, you felt your heart pound heavily against your chest as you lined your shot up to the can before shooting. The recoil making you yelp as you lost your footing briefly, though instead of falling or tripping over your unsteady feet you fell back into a strong and sturdy chest.

Flushed, you apologized as Kageyama looked to the side in embarrassment. 

“You...here. Your form is all wrong. Don’t just point and shoot.” 

He began, shifting so that he was curled over you. His hands over your shaking ones as he helped you cock the gun and aim. 

“Take a deep breath... concentrate.” 

His words were soft, his breath tickling your ear as he aimed alongside with you before another shot rang out into the world. A clean shot into the can, and your own brightening face as you looked up at him with admiration. All sense of embarrassment having to have left your body as you felt the adrenaline rush into your body.

“Holy shit that was so cool!” 

Before you could even try again with another shot, you saw Ennoshita, the one who told you that Kageyama would be your mentor and who you’d be shadowing until your initiation mission.

“You both should head out now. The target is on the move. Hinata is already on his way to meet with them.” 

With a simple nod, Kageyama went indoors to collect the necessary equipment he’d need for the assignment tonight. Though, before he abandoned you to get ready yourself, he looked back at you. A smirk on his once flushed face as he simply uttered three words that had you shake in excitement.

“Watch & Learn.”

[fics-by-maria]

Blinded By Hope (Part 1)

Ao3 Masterpost

Here’s the sequel to A Trip to Remember! This is what i’m replacing Our Deepest Roots with, and this will have significantly less angst.

Marinette groaned as her alarm screamed at her, rousing her from her slumber. She debated the merits of missing orientation, her job had needed her for an unexpected late shift last night and she’d ended up losing a good few hours of sleep because of it. Eventually she decided that it wasn’t and decided to go get some coffee.

The dorms had come to life in the last few days and she had already heard complaints about roommates, she was lucky that her roommate was quiet and respectful, if a bit withdrawn. Marinette was adding copious amounts of sugar as the common area began to fill with chatter, she looked down at her watch and was jolted out of her thoughts. It was 11:23, orientation was at 12 in the main auditorium, it would take her at least twenty minutes to get ready, and another fifteen to get to the auditorium.

Marinette had to leave her hair down and swap out her heels for a pair of practical boots, but she made it on time. She genuinely hadn’t known that Damian would be attending Gotham University, so it was a welcome surprise to see him sitting a row ahead of her in the auditorium.

He could feel eyes on him, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but that could have just been his nerves. He’d been used to having his own space and people who knew what he was like, but Gotham U’s requirement that all freshmen live in the dorms had really thrown him for a loop and he was out of his element.

The end of orientation came sooner than he’d anticipated and a cool hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts and he whirled around, only to find his eyes meeting a pair of bright blue ones.

“Hi Damian.” Her voice was just as sweet as he remembered.

“Hello angel, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Oh Damian,” She moved a hand up to cup his cheek, “I will always come back to you.”

-

Damian was restless. His family had insisted that he should take a break from being Robin during college, but this just left him with pent up energy, so he often found himself in the dorm gym. The fact that he was doing nothing irked him. A new rogue had surfaced recently and was giving Batman quite the runaround.

Scarlet Ribbon had first emerged a week or so back. She seemed like a Robin Hood type of vigilante, helping those in need while also being a high profile thief. Her latest exploit being somehow intimidating various gangs into ceding all territory surrounding the University district of The Coventry. It was odd, though she now controlled a large amount of territory, it remained unclear exactly what she was doing. She’d been involved in shutting down multiple trafficking rings as well as stealing from law firms, including releasing files showing a corrupt businessman’s attempts to cheat his employees out of fair pay and coverup harassment allegations.

A true chaotic good rogue, but a rogue nonetheless. And Damian couldn’t do anything, despite seeing those trademark red ribbons tied around lamp posts all around campus. The first time Damian actually saw Scarlet Ribbon, she was hanging around outside the library late at night, offering to walk students home. She was nonthreatening, despite the black cloth medical mask hiding the lower half of her face. She wore a black sleeveless turtleneck with a pair of dark red high-waisted shorts, a dark grey utility belt, and black knee-high boots with bright red laces. Her long dark hair hung down in two strands that framed her face, and the rest was up in space buns.

She seemed familiar and was rather friendly, most likely a university student but he didn’t really know much, after their first encounter she seemed to avoid him, saying that he could ‘probably handle himself’. If he wasn’t so busy he wouldn't have let it lie, but as it was, his classes were swamping him and he didn't have time for much, and he spent that with his small group of friends rather than investigating some benevolent crime lord.

Marinette had been the one to take him out of his self imposed exile and introduce him to the rest of their small group. There was Felix Archibald, the serious pre-med student who had a soft spot for romance novels and horror movies. His twin sister Allegra, who did not appreciate allergy medicine jokes (as Damian found out when she punched him), and was a music major. Claude Crane, son of Jonathan Crane, a sociology major who was passionate about reforming the foster system that he’d grown up in. Damian hadn’t thought he’d fit in with them, but none of them really fit in, and Damian liked them, even if Allegra constantly talked about how gorgeous Scarlet Ribbon was and Claude never stopped challenging him to another round of Mortal Kombat (he hadn’t won yet, but refused to give up).

Overall he was enjoying college, even if he wasn’t used to civilian life, but it was calm and that was a welcome change from his hectic existence as Robin.

-

Marinette on the other hand was not content. Gotham had too much crime, and she had to help! It wasn’t that big of a deal if some of her methods were maybe less than legal, she was doing the right thing. But apparently the local vigilantes disagreed, which was probably how she found herself standing on a roof, facing off against Red Robin.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice wasn’t exactly accusatory, but it certa wasn’t friendly.

“Parkour.” She wanted to keep her interactions short, she was not about to get arrested for trying to help.

“Really? Because it looks like you just broke into Fulbright Tower. You know, the law firm you just ran away from.”

“It’s not really your business, it’s not like I did anything wrong!”

“Ma’am theft is illegal.”

“It’s not theft, they’re photocopies, and I promise to give them back, I just needed them to finish something.”

“It absolutely is theft, and you can't just do that.”

“Okay, bet.” She took a running leap and dived for the next building.

Red Robin followed close behind, chasing the woman across the rooftops of the Financial District before she abruptly stopped.

“Look Double R, can I call you Double R?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well Double R, not that this hasn’t been fun, but I have places to be.” With this she threw a glass vial at his feet and leapt off the roof. He went to pursue her but fell, lightheadedness overtaking him.

He opened comms back up and sighed. “So Scarlet Ribbon got away, and on a related note, she has some form of knockout gas.” He could hear Oracle’s laugh.

“Oh yeah genius? Then why aren't you knocked out?”

“It’s more disorienting than anything, she still seems unwilling to harm me.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing useful.”

“Great work out there, dumbass”

[emeralds-are-love]

The Balance: A Ben 10-Kingdom Hearts Crossover

Prologue:

The world wasn't always like this. At least...that's what my grandpa tells me....

Long before I was even thought of, or any of us for that matter, people where born with special abilities. Super powers, so to speak. These abilities were split into two halves of one whole: the Light, symbolizing purity, innocence, the shining sun in the day, and the Dark, symbolizing mysteries, mischief, the glowing moon at night. They were literal Yin and Yang, coexisting peacefully, one never overtaking the other. People seemed to accept that for a long time. Until...he came along.

Xehanort Shadhart is a name that will live on in infamy. When he was younger, it was said that he and his brother, Sephiroth, had grandiose dreams of growing stronger with their Dark powers and eventually become the most powerful people in the world. And it turns out they weren't the only ones that felt that way.

Thousands of Dark users had felt the same way as the Shadhart brothers, and certain Light users didn't help the situation at all. They bragged that because people of the Light represented purity, they were better than those of the Dark. Some even went as far as to oppress Dark users, going against their "pure" nature by being cruel. This caused hatred and animosity to grow strong in the hearts of those of the Dark, fueling their power and making them stronger. The Balance that had formed in the beginning was starting to break.

Xehanort saw this and planned to take full advantage of it. He rallied all those of the Dark together and proposed that they overthrow the Light side and take control of the world. Needless to say, they liked his plan and it was quickly set into motion. And, unfortunately, the Light side never saw it coming.

Powerful Light users were either killed or taken away, never to be seen again. The ones who weren't so strong were registered and kept under constant surveillance. Once everything was said and done, Xehanort seized the opportunity and made himself leader of this new world, with his brother as the leader of his armies. Over the years, the Shadhart family grew more and more powerful and it seemed as if nothing could stop them. But what they didn't realize was that not everyone from the Light side were going to take this lying down.

My grandpa, Max Tennyson, is a very powerful Light user and a kind yet capable man. When he realized just what was going on, he began to gather Light users to form a resistance against the Dark regime. Since he was a powerful user, my grandpa had to do all of this carefully, staying hidden and holding secret meetings. But a life of hiding and fighting wasn't a life he wanted for either of his sons, my dad Carl and my Uncle Frank. So, he encouraged them to try and stay low in plain sight and not get involved with the Resistance. To lead safe lives. They both married and led normal lives...well normal as it can be under a tyrannical rule. That is until...they wanted to start a family.

And that is where I come in. My name is Benjamin Kirby Tennyson, but I would thank you to please just call me Ben. I was born to Carl and Sandra Tennyson along with my twin sister, Brendalyn Kirsten Tennyson, but call her Bree. When our mom found out she was pregnant, our parents were ecstatic. But when we were born, that excitement turned to fear. Why?

Well, after Xehanort came into power, he decreed that any child that showed strong Light power by the age of five would be taken straight to him. Once that happened, the children were never seen again. So many families were destroyed that way and it was another reason why so many ran to the Resistance. My parents, despite both my Grandpa Max and Grandma Verdona being very powerful, were low on the power scale and thought that they would have children who were the same as them. Oh God, they were so wrong.

A child of the Light is usually born with sparkling eyes and the brighter the eyes shine, the more powerful the baby would be. Unfortunately for my parents, my eyes shone brighter than the stars. Bree's eyes shone bright as well, as did my cousin Gwen's. My aunt and uncle immediately went into hiding with the Resistance, but my parents didn't, hoping, praying, that our power would fade. But it never did.

Having no where else to turn and knowing that Xehanort's forces would come to take us on our fifth birthday, a month before our fifth, my parents gave me and my sister to our grandparents in the Resistance and went on the run, hoping to lead them off our trail.

That was the last time we ever saw them. We're fourteen now and have been in the Resistance our whole lives, growing with the rest of the children and learning how to fight. My goal is to become stronger and one day, this war will end. And I will have my family again.

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

"Ben? Ben!"

I snapped out of my daydream and sighed, sitting up from my reclined position. My eyes raised up and blinked at the sight of my friends, Sora Strife-Leonhart and Julie Yamamoto, standing over my position on the floor of the Light Compound's auditorium.

Julie was a American-Japanese girl whom had come to the Compound with her family a year after my sister and I had. And I know this isn't pertinent information for everyone else, but I thought that she was really beautiful. She had long, silky black hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, and soft brown eyes. Her skin was pale and soft- looking and was accented by the clothes she wore; a pink, cherry blossom print kimono styled shirt with a white obi, black shorts, fishnet tights, and boots. She was staring down at me disapprovingly with her hands on her hips. Seeing this made me wonder what I did wrong this time.

Sora, however, was grinning at me with his usual megawatt grin, causing me to smile a little. You couldn't help but smile when you're around him. Also, at the risk of sounding somewhat attracted to my best friend, he was kinda cute. He had spiky, chestnut hair and sky blue eyes. His skin was sun-kissed, seeing as he like to be outside when he took his naps, and he wore his usual attire; a red and black short sleeved hoodie with a red V- tank top underneath, baggy, black pants with two belts that crossed in the front and in the back, a black choker around his neck, and red sneakers.

"We can always find you here, can't we?" He asked teasingly, offering his hand to help me up. I grinned and took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

"What can I say?" I said, straightening my own clothes- a white sleeveless zip-up vest with a ten on the right side and on the back, a green, skin-tight, turtleneck, sleeveless shirt that stopped just above my navel, black pants with a belt that hung off my left hip, and black combat boots- and grinning. "I'm predictable like that."

Sora laughed while Julie rolled her eyes but smiled just the same. They were used to my antics and I, theirs. I mean they've both known me since I was little, I like to think that they know me by now.

"Bree's looking for you," Julie stated, folding her arms across her chest. "She said if you make training start late again, she's taking the twenty laps around the gym out of your hyde."

I flinched. Twenty laps for being late? That means-

"Terra's training the four of us today?" I asked, looking at Sora for confirmation. The tired look that replaced his grin was all the answer I needed. I swore and dragged my right hand down my face.

Terra Rockford was five years older than me and Sora, so nineteen. He was a strong, muscular man with brown hair that went down to his shoulders, blue eyes, and a stern disposition. Despite that, he was a good guy, always taking care of the younger kids and teaching them how to fight. He was also one of the few who could wield a Keyblade.

A Keyblade is a special weapon shaped like a giant key- hence the name- that supposedly can open any lock, unlock doors to different worlds, and (depending on who's wielding it) can restore hearts from darkness. There used to be so many who could wield one, but the number of Keyblade users on the Light side had dwindled over the years. Terra, Sora, his brother Roxas, and their cousin Ventus can all wield one. Only Terra and Ventus were Masters but only became Masters recently. We used to have two others but...not anymore....

Shaking my head of that sad thought, I sighed and said, "Alright, Sora and I'll get going. What time is it?"

Without waiting for an answer, I glance at the black and green watch on my left wrist- and my eyes nearly bulge out of my skull. It was ten minutes to three, almost time for us to be there! And the training gym was on the other side of the compound!

"If you guys know where I hang, why did it take you so long to find me?! C'mon Sora!" I grabbed Sora's wrist- gently, I wanted him to hurry not be hurt- and pulled him from the Auditorium and together we booked it towards the gym.

The problem was that the Light Compound was huge. Basically, the Compound was an underground city: tunnels that stretched for miles, some leading to important parts of the Compound used by Light soldiers, scientists, and leaders, such as the training gym, the armory, the meeting hall, the top secret labs, and barracks for soldiers. There are many more but it would take forever to list them.

There were also "rooms" for civilians. Stores for clothes and food, a trading market, a woodshop, a blacksmith, a school for us kids, small restaurants, and homes for civilians. There was even little play areas for kids, a night bar for the adults, a museum, a library, and a small movie theater. The only thing that was above ground were the green houses, fruit trees, and gardens. People tended to them regularly.

The gym where Sora and I train and the Auditorium were on opposite sides of the Compound. It usually took a grand total of thirty minutes to get from the Auditorium to the gym, twenty if you're fast enough. Either way, Sora and I were gonna be late. Unless....

I looked over at Sora with a sly smirk as we ran. "How about we...speed things up a bit, hm?"

Sora grinned back at me, his eyes sparkling in excitement. "I like the way you think!"

We looked away from each other and began to focus on our energy, channeling it from our hearts, through our legs, and to our feet. Once it was all there, our eyes flashed and we shouted in unison, "Accelerate!"

We sped down the halls as our legs moved superhumanly fast. To the people we passed, we must have looked like nothing but blurs.

(TBC)

[yuthoe]

PENTAGON Yanan x Ballroom Dancing

Welcome to the second installment of PTG BALLROOM DANCERS AU! I figured Yanan deserved the second one, since I haven’t really written anything for him. (also because i miss him, but that is neither here nor there.) I didn’t really have a hard time placing Yanan into the latin/standard/10-dances category, unlike Wooseok and Hui (and Kino a little bit).

Also, quick disclaimer: I’m a strictly Latin dancer, and although i can kinda dance standard, i don’t have the proper enough technique to say i’m good at it. (i once had a breakdown after my ballroom class because i couldn’t get the tango right AT ALL lmao.)

---

Strictly a Standard dancer, although he can be taught Latin. His heart is really set in Standard. He’s tall and slim, but he’s got a good, strong body that lends well to leading his partner.

Has changed partners well over ten times in his whole career; he had self-confidence issues that often lead to not participating in a number of seasons. The cycle goes like this: he has a partner --> midway through training/off-season he hits a wall --> confesses he can’t compete for the season because he doesn’t think he’s good enough and it’ll only bring his partner down --> partner leaves to find another lead.

He’s kind of infamous for that, and it takes more of a toll on his mental health everytime a news article about it pops up. Yanan doesn’t want to get remembered for that, and he struggles with it a lot.

Until he met you. The first time he confesses that he can’t compete this season because of his mental health, you just said, “Sure. Tell me when you want to train next, I’ll be here.” And from then you, you became permanent partners. He likes the feeling of having someone sticking by him through what’s going on.

Really good lead. He may not look it because of his wiry frame and long limbs, but he’s really sturdy--you think he could literally whip you around and manhandle you if the need arises.

That being said, he never complains during conditioning days. He accepts them, because he knows the need for it, but will crack jokes to make the whole thing easier for both of you.

Never wears just shorts or goes shirtless (*coughHongseokcough*) while training, no matter how unbearably hot it gets, especially during the summer. There was one time where he wore a sleeveless shirt, but the collar was something like a turtleneck and you were just like, “Can’t you unzip that just a little bit? Your sweat’s gonna start pooling there.” And he just said, “No, I’m actually very comfortable.”

Yanan has various SNS accounts, but he’s most active on his Instagram. He loves posting selfies, songs that you two are practicing to, scenery, and movie recommendations. The occasional promo poster pops up, as well as pictures of his dancer friends competing and captioning them, “Let’s cheer my friend Changgu on at Blackpool!” or something.

He has a significant following (1) because he posts a lot and (2) because he’s really handsome. His notifications blow up with likes whenever he posts after-training selfies. The fans are particularly fond of that one time he just wore a dry-fit sleeveless shirt and he was all sweaty and his hair was sticking all over his face.

He sometimes posts snippets of him playing the piano, and everyone is instantly lovestruck. 

Yanan interacts with his fans a lot, liking each and every comment, and responding to some of them. He always thanks them for their continued support, even if he’s not competing during that season.

Posts a few couple photos with you, and everyone thinks you’re adorable.

Absolutely loves dancing the waltzes. He likes the flow of the music and how easy it is to move to the rhythm. During competitions, you two often get photographed while dancing the waltz, and he looks absolutely angelic. You two always wear white, blue, or any other light colors while performing, so looking at you two is like watching fairies dance.

Is also in love with the tango. People think of him as quiet and shy, but really only you and other close friends know he’s actually sassy, and all that attitude comes out in the tango. His tangos with you are always strong, like a pair of snow leopards ready to attack #PowerCouple.

The problem you two had in the beginning was keeping the frame. He’s 70% leg and the height difference makes it tricky to keep proper framing. It’s either you had to wear higher heels or Yanan ends up hunching his back or going super low at the knees. Eventually, as you two got used to each other, you solved that problem. Ballroom enthusiasts always point out how good your frame is, despite the difference.

Has been asked to be a pro dancer/choreographers on some programs, but he always turns them down. He feels the stress is too much for him, so he sticks to competitions and occasionally doing collaborations with his friends.

“Perfect” by Ed Sheeran is a song he’s obsessed with, and when he saw this video he was immediately like, “Y/N!!! Y/N, LET’S DO THIS!!!” So you guys set aside a day to practice it, tweaking the choreography a bit at the places you thought didn’t feel right. It was cool, since you have a costume like Witney’s, but Yanan didn’t want to raid his closet for a black suit, so he just wore one of his numerous white ones.

You filmed the whole of the next day, getting shots during the day, the afternoon, during sunset. You guys made it really romantic, and once it got posted on YouTube and Facebook, everyone was crying at how beautiful the production was.

I mentioned he’s sassy, but Yanan also has a habit of critiquing dances. Despite the questionable credibility of some DWTS dances, you two love watching it--because Yanan can have something to gripe about, and you’re really amused whenever he goes off.

an awkward foot placement during a quickstep performance: “Wh-What is THAT???!!? It’s week 5 of the competition!! And he’s done standard since week 1!! Why is he getting that wrong??!!”

a weird lift, even if you two don’t personally do lifts: “Ooohh, that looks weird, are they okay??? Please don’t drop her, please don’t drop her, oh god--,”

the pro does some questionable choreography or something “experimental”: “Oh, they’re reaching, oh this is gonna be bad, what are they talking about??? I hope his partner doesn’t have high hopes because that was A Choice™.”

an unfair jugding: “WHAT?! SHE GETS A PERFECT SCORE FOR THAT??? ARE THEY BLIND--THEY WEREN’T IN SYNC, SHE WAS TOO FAST FOR THE DANCE, AND HER FRAME WAS TOTALLY OFF!!!!”

You record his outbursts and send it to your dancers group chat; everyone loves seeing Yanan so passionate about something, even if it is about the atrocities of DWTS. 

[jeanstoppable]

20th & 21st OF OCTOBER

~change the channel~ (substitute)

~island in the sun~

(A/N: I cannot, for the life of me, make these prompts shorter. But anyways, here’s some more of my Cyberpunk oc and a bit of world building)

WARNING: Mentions of Drug Use/Dark themes

The door shut with a soft click, the metal barrier cancelling out the harsh and turbulent noise of the downpour outside, as a clear ping pierced the silence of the room, signalling the automatic lock being completed.

I tossed the drenched sling bag somewhere on the floor, hearing it land but not bothering to check where, and started peeling the equally wet jacket off my torso, leaving me in a sleeveless black top.

I should take a shower first. I thought. But my legs didn’t move towards the bathroom to my far right, instead my eyes were fixated on the desk beside my bed, and then gradually brought them up on the old painting displayed right above it.

Later. This can’t wait. Heart and mind decided, I shuffled over to the desk in a sense of urgency, grabbed the painting by its sides and then plucked it from the hook. Flipping the frame around, a black plate covered the back of the canvas. With familiar ease, I slid my fingers across the upper corner edges and found the latch, successfully unfastening the plate to unveil a couple of worn-out journals hidden inside. Untouched.

A breath of relief escaped me, my fear of the notebooks being discovered momentarily disappearing.

I picked out the one I’ve been using as of late—the tenth one if I recall correctly, since I’ve already used up every bit of space from the others—and opened the journal where it had a bookmark.

The yellowed blank pages were a frequent sight as I ran a hand across the smooth surface while my other hand pulled a pen from a cup that was also holding a heap of markers and then started writing my thoughts—

It was a common enough phrase.

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL”

It doesn’t pique interest, at least to...someone like me, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, right?

I hovered the nib of the pen slightly above the paper, thinking if I should continue to write about the news we’ve received today. It was shocking enough that I even had to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was dreaming or not because the news wasn’t just good nor great---it was the best fucking thing I’ve heard in years and it also just happens to be the one we’ve all been waiting for.

Setting down the pen, I reached for the hidden compartment again, took the very first journal I owned and then absently flipped through the filled pages, the crisp, crinkling sounds tenderly jogging my memory.

I stopped at the beginning of the notebook, a reminiscing smile graced my lips as I traced the old ink with the tip of a finger.

Don’t let anyone steal this.

I snorted, of course, this was written on the day I got my ass beat and left without so much of a coin in my pocket—thus, I was forced to resort to stealing. Strangely enough, this journal was the first thing I stole and to this day, I can’t seem to remember the reason why but I do remember how awful the act made me feel, the feeling lasted for days.

Nonetheless, those feelings subsided after getting accustomed to this lifestyle. Crime practically lived and breathed under my skin, these hands and feet of mine becoming my very own accomplices.

I closed my eyes as the usual barrage of emotions washed over me: disappointment, disgust, anger, hate—so much hate and all of it was directed at the only person I can blame at the moment.

Well to be fair, not once did I deny the indisputable fact that I hated how my life turned out, how everything turned out considering that there’s no one even left to impress, no one to see me pretend as if I wasn’t so horribly broken-down on the inside.

I hated how I was still here, anchored by some self-righteous bullshit I’d placed like a burden on my shoulders that one miserable night, a burden that still stubbornly carries the promise of changing the lives of so many other people.

My gaze landed on the scribbled date at the top of the page.

It’s been 6 years since the incident.

I breathed out my nose unevenly and closed the book with a snap, pushing it aside as I returned to the previous journal and picked up the pen to finish today’s log.

It’s happening.. It’s finally happening.

Today marks the fucking day of something revolutionary as we received reports, genuine physical reports, of a planned coup in all of five districts. And I know there had been a lot of them in the past and those who participated lost their lives after being executed on the spot… However, this time around, my gut tells me otherwise.

I think I mentioned this in my previous logs; it’s about the power balance shifting. It began to tip since last year and it hasn’t stopped till now. I fiercely believe that the power will eventually find its way back to us, as it rightfully should.

This was a long time coming after all. Years and years of effort had been put in just to dethrone those who forcefully robbed us of our lives and not just that---Our identities.. Our Family and friends. The voice itself of the public.

Letting out a tortured laugh, I wrote the end of the log:

CHANGE THE CHANNEL

Simple, dismissive and yet it holds the power of treason. It speaks the word of rebellion. I’m not afraid anymore because this phrase will take us one step closer to freedom.

. . .

“...Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Positive.”

I cast my partner a skeptical glance.

“...I’m 80% sure.” He nervously admitted, purposely avoiding my prodding eyes.

A huff of disbelief slipped past my lips as I demanded from him, “What did the message say anyway?”

“It was a recorded message programmed inside a toy, it only said the time and the address before self-destructing. But like I said, I don’t think I got any of the information wrong.”

“Maybe you misheard or missed something because this—”

I swallowed the sentence and did another scan of the building in front of us, our position from an empty terrace across the street granting us to overlook the supposed meeting place, the rendezvous as it turns out was a grand and luxurious night club.

It seemed that access was only given to those in the upper class but since it was fairly new and as far as rumors go, I heard it has an eccentricity to it, so the club wasn’t bustling like the other similar establishments scattered in the district. Still, entry to the venue remains as a privilege only to those who can afford to waste money, in this economy.

I eyed the flashy neon sign just above the main doors with slight distaste and a growing curiosity.

Island in the Sun

The name certainly snatches attention.

After seeing a bunch of people dressed in stylish clothes walk out, I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling a tiny bit insecure about what I’m wearing.

Hell, nothing about my attire was fancy by any means so I shot my partner another worried glance, “Do we really have no further means of communication with them? Do we really have to enter through the front? Can’t we just, you know, sneak inside a window? I mean, we don’t—we’re not—”

I gestured to his clothes and then mine, “We’ll stick out like sore fucking thumbs.”

“You do make a sound point.” He murmured and then lowered his goggles to finally address me, his grey orbs illuminated by the numerous bright neon signs, “I never expected our sponsor to be this...shameless? They’re practically waving their wealth in our faces, makes me wanna take a swipe at them.”

“Arman,” I quietly sighed, “What are we getting ourselves into?”

Is this what having cold feet feels like?

My partner surveyed me for a instant before having the nerve to roll his eyes, “Just treat this as one of our regular heists, Sonya. Aren’t you the least excited to experience what it’s like partying with the upper class?”

I stayed silent, not bothering to tell him that I did have prior experience, and just rubbed my temples, a headache forming at the prospect of how tonight will go.

“Time for a channel change.” My partner winked, his wise words partnered with the small gesture cracked my lips into a smile.

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking carefully as he relayed more of his thoughts, “And maybe get laid by the end of the night.” This time, I was the one to roll my eyes and got a glower from him in exchange.

“You could use it as well… When’s the last time you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arman.” I tried snapping back but it turned into a laugh instead.

He only grinned toothily, looking guilty but proud, “Less nervous?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wait.” He said all of a sudden.

I raised a brow in question, my hands already gripping onto the rails, poised to scale down at any moment.

“Clothes.” Arman waved a hand and I grimaced.

“Ah yeah, right.”

A terse silence passed before we both launched smirks at each other, the same heinous idea forming in our minds as he pointed towards a closed clothing shop a few blocks away.

“What say you for one more heist this evening? It won’t be as grandiose as the previous ones, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

. . .

Your ass looks nice in that.

Yeah? I’m taking this one then.

...Well?

Your ass always looks great, Arman.

So you’re saying mine looks better? Thanks.

Wear a skirt and then we’ll talk.

Oh, Sonya, just watch and learn.

. . .

I leaned against a street light, scrutinising our target club while waiting for my partner to finish finding the ‘perfect outfit’ as he called it, his words not mine. In the end, I settled for a wine coloured fitted dress with a criss-cross pattern exposing my back, a black corset on top, a semi transparent blazer for my shoulders, and then I picked out simple knee length combat boots—in case the deal goes awry and we had to flee.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I peeked over and my jaw dropped as soon as I laid eyes on Arman.

He was wearing a skin tight turtleneck black dress, showing off his lean but toned figure, a beautiful velvet burgundy blazer that looked amazing on his broad shoulders and then his shoes were thick polished combat boots, almost same as mine, the only difference was his heels were an inch higher, making him look taller than he normally is.

I whistled in pure awe, “Damn, Island in the Sun is about to get a whole lot hotter.”

A smug expression graced his handsome features when he walked past me, swaying his ass deliberately, “Told you so,”

I huffed at his haughty but rightfully placed attitude and caught up to him, looping an arm around his, “Well, won’t you tell me—am I your designated arm candy or are you mine?”

“Why can’t we just be both?”

We toned down the volume of our conversation when we neared the establishment, Arman breaking off as he walked up to the main entrance. It was as we expected, one of the large bouncers blocked him immediately and then pointed to the side towards the long line of people waiting for their own turn.

Arman straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, “We have an appointment with your employer.”

The bouncer examined my partner from head to toe, not looking the least convinced although the second after, he pressed a button on his collar, “Can you direct me to the boss’ line?”

“Hey!” A voice shouted off to the side where the line was, “Wait in line like the rest of—”

I whirled on whoever was speaking and gave them my most vicious glare, that person stopped in the middle of their sentence and then promptly averted their eyes. I scoffed at them.

“Boss, there’s two individuals here that say they have an appointment with you.” The bouncer said, nodding while listening to his receiver and then finally turned back to Arman, “I apologise but the boss doesn’t have any more appointments for tonight.”

Arman took this information calmly and then leaned in, a hand covering his lips as he whispered something to the bouncer, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

The bouncer’s eyes widened, stared at Arnan and me before ultimately stepping aside, handing us two glowing yellow bracelets, “I’m sorry for the delay, the boss is expecting you.”

My partner brightened and accepted the bracelets, holding me by my wrist as he ushered us past the main entrance. Still confused about the whole ordeal, I reluctantly put on the accessory without saying a word, the bracelet giving a weird sting when it made contact with my skin, and then followed Arman inside.

“What was that?” I asked the moment we’re left alone.

“Did you forget why we’re here?” He quipped back cheerfully and the realisation struck me later than I would have liked.

“...What do you think this is for?” I changed the subject to both our glowing bracelets, raising mine to my eye level just to get a good look at it.

“I don’t know. Gimmicks?” Arman absently rubbed his, faintly knotting his eyebrows and then started inspecting the empty hallway we were walking through, “For a club named Island in the Sun, it doesn’t seem very hot.”

We reached the end of the hallway and the doors opened upon sensing us, revealing another set of corridors, three to be exact that split into different directions: There was muffled music coming from our right, while there’s really faint sounds of people chattering to the left, and then nothing from the one ahead of us.

I took a step towards the middle corridor, figuring it was where we needed to go but Arman blocked an arm in my way, “Don’t you want to check out the other rooms? We might as well explore before we get kicked out after our appointment.”

My expression definitely disapproved of the idea and he could see that, although I think I might’ve surprised him when I agreed to his request, “No more than five minutes.”

His grey orbs gleamed with excitement, “I’ll go this way,” he pointed to the right, “Take the left.” With that said, Arman pivoted and headed for the direction with the music, and I walked towards the left corridor.

The doors were glass so I’d seen what was inside while waiting for them to open.

I scrunched my brows in bewilderment at what awaited me. The room was massive so to say and furthermore, it has a second floor filled with—What were those? There were these weird opaque bubbles that had a hatch on the front with a keypad beside it and almost all of them were lit, vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro inside but nothing more than that.

My eyes landed on the pit with a glass dome in the centre, a couple of people were lounging on long circular couches whilst socialising with each other. I was so focused on the bizarre scene that I didn’t notice the doors sliding open and the cyborg standing off to the side, making me almost jump when it had announced itself.

WELCOME. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

“I---uh, what...does that mean exactly?” I awkwardly rubbed my nape, feeling the need to occupy my shaking hands as I peered up at the cyborg.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DEMONSTRATE HOW OUR ISLANDS WORK?

I simply nodded and the cyborg’s eyes immediately flashed bright, projecting a hologram into the empty space between us, leaving me to watch in wonder as a 3D model of one of the bubbles appeared.

ESSENTIALLY, OUR SPHERICAL ISLANDS ARE DESIGNED TO SERVE AS ADVANCED PRIVATE SUITS FOR SPECIAL CUSTOMERS. ITS CURVED WALLS ARE BUILT-IN WITH HIGH POWERED LED SCREENS THAT LETS YOU PROJECT ANY KIND OF SCENERY YOU’D PREFER AND IT’S ALSO COMPLETE WITH FURNITURE THAT CAN SATISFY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR NEEDS.

The holograms changed and now it showed one of those glowing bracelets.

WHILE YOU’RE INSIDE THE CLUB, WE WILL ALSO EXCLUSIVELY PROVIDE YOU WITH OUR CLUB’S HOTTEST PRODUCT TO MAKE YOUR NIGHT BETTER AND MORE ENJOYABLE.

I frowned, asking warily, “Product?”

I’M PROHIBITED TO EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER DETAILS OF THE PRODUCT. HOWEVER, YOU CAN FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF THROUGH ONE OF OUR ISLANDS, THE PIT, OR IN THE PARTY ROOM.

Something cold settled in my stomach, “The party room...it’s the room opposite this one , right?”

CORRECT. NOW, THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF OUR CLUB’S COMMODITIES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

I shook my head, about to refuse the offer when a question crossed my mind, “...How much is one island?”

The cyborg turned off the projection and turned its gaze downwards, scanning my bracelet through its lens.

NO PAYMENT NEEDED FOR VIP CUSTOMERS.

“VIP...?” My throat dried up as I covered the bracelet on my wrist with a hand, “I...won’t be taking an island, thank you.” The cyborg merely bowed and then went back to its corner, waiting for someone new to serve.

“Shit, I have a bad feeling about this.” I said to myself, returning to the intersection from before and making my way towards the party room.

The moment the doors slid open, the music hit me and my eardrums in full blast. I winced at the intensity of it and more so at the large crowd dancing and grooving to the loud beat. It was difficult to even hear my own voice. I internally groaned, how am I supposed to find him at this rate?

Keeping my eyes sharp despite it being extremely dark and the occasional blinding strobe lights, I moved through the mob of people pressed against one another, awkwardly bumping into some people dancing and then sometimes getting pushed back. I bit my lip, refraining from picking a fight as I held on to my rapidly waning patience.

All of a sudden, someone slapped a hand to my ass and the leash briefly snapped—I quickly rounded on that person, a fist almost flying out when I saw that the hand belonged to a man a couple of inches shorter than me with a greasy sneer on his face.

“Do that again...” I fisted his shirt and followed with a violent promise, “And you’ll go home left-handed.” I threatened, my voice brimming with spite.

Once I saw the frightened understanding in his eyes, I released him and turned away. “Arman, you better show yourself right now.” I growled.

Finally, I spotted a familiar burgundy jacket behind a pillar and I set my sights on it, carelessly pushing my way through, ignoring the curses and rude remarks of the people I shoved because I have had enough of this.

I shouldn’t have to search for him.

As I got closer to the pillar, I only noticed then that he was making out with someone. Oh you’re dead. My fingers shot out to grab the shoulder of the man I’ve been searching for, ready to cuss at him till his ears fall off.

“Oi! What the fuck happened to five minutes?!”

I halted as I met face to face with a stranger, and not at all my partner, “A-ah, I’m sorry I thought you were—“ My eyes flicked towards the person standing beside them.

“Arman!” I shouted, obviously relieved to see him alright but then remembered I was still pissed off, “What the hell? I was looking all over for you!”

His eyebrows creased for a moment before a loopy smile graced his lips, “Sonya! I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted…” Arman’s gaze trailed off to the side but at the same time, he gripped the waist of the man he kissed earlier closer to his body.

I gawked at him. Honestly speechless. But then I lashed out a hand to circle around his wrist, the one with that damned bracelet, and discovered that the yellow glow was at half now.

This was their exclusive product.

I fumed as I took out a spare light from the pocket of my blazer and yanked his head down to my level, “Let me see your fucking eyes.”

I shined the light on them and noticed how bloodshot they were, his pupils were unusually blown wide. I cursed again, letting out my frustrations, “Arman, you’re blazed!”

“What?! No, no, no. I-I haven’t taken any.” He stumbled over his words, making me doubt him even more.

“Excuse me.” A new voice piped in.

I flipped my attention to Arman’s...date? Lover? Who the hell cares, I completely forgot he was even there, “Aren’t you being a bit rude? Who are you anyways?” The man asked snobbishly while squinting at me.

I glared back, a dangerous smile framing my painted lips, “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?”

“Sonya!” Arman yelled in disbelief.

The man mouth hung open and then tried explaining himself, “I-I’m—“

I held up a finger, “You know what, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Locking an arm around Arman’s, I pulled him away from the man and roughly dragged him across the dance floor and towards the exit.

Once we got back to the main hallway, I let him go and stared him down with my arms placed on my hips, “What was that, Arman?” I gritted out, trying to be as calm as I can without blowing a fuse.

“Give me a minute.” He panted, “It’s so damn hot, ugh.”

“What are you saying, you’ve only been in there for less than twenty minutes.” I looked at him confused but then clearly saw the heavy perspiration forming on his skin, “Hey...you’re sweating really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.” He apologised, breathing large gulps of air while leaning on the wall, “I’m sorry you had to cover for me back there.”

My gaze softened as I stood beside him, “It’s nothing…”

“I know I really screwed up for not being careful, but I swear—Sonya, I swear I didn’t take any drugs.” Arman gripped my arms, looking me wildly in the eyes.

“Don’t worry..I believe you.” I assured him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “It might’ve been that stuck-up date of yours, did you notice him touch your bracelet while you were together?”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, a deeply disturbed expression slowly contorted his features, “Yeah...Yeah, he did.”

I let out a rough exhale, controlling the rage that sweeped me off, now twice as strong, “If I ever see that fucker—“

A hand on my shoulder pulled my attention back as I faced Arman, letting him see the murderous expression on my features.

“The appointment.” He reminded me softly.

“...Right…right. Are you sure you’re okay now?”

He pushed off the wall and gave me a tiny smile that broke my heart.

“...You know, you’re giving Tilly a run for her money—I mean, showing up to a sponsor’s meeting high? Not even she has the balls to do that.”

Arman chuckled, a dark look passing his expression as he bitterly said, “I bet that they’re expecting us to attend already intoxicated.”

I hummed in agreement, “So, our first sponsor’s a drug enthusiast, huh?”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TBC

(A/N: I WAS SUPPOSED TO INCLUDE MEETING THE BOSS BUT ITS TOO LONG wowowow, these prompts are now integrated into my story, I swear I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this—but ANYWAYS. I’m kinda living for this unhinged oc of mine, and this duo?? I had so much fun writing about theit dynamic. However sad to say, this will be the last of them for now... as it goes, i must move on to other ignored ocs PEACEEE)

[knives-out20]

Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 5

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Internalized homophobia,

Notes: I hate how many timeskips this scene had. 

“Hank turned that radar installation into a transmitter."

"It looks like a golf ball" Karmel commented.

Charles giggled."Indeed it does- but, carry on, agent."

The agent nodded."It's designed to amplify brainwaves, so it could enhance your telepathic powers, help us find other mutants for our division."

"What if they don't want to be found by you?"

Charles, Karmel, and the agent turned to see Erik in the doorway. Charles raised his eyebrows, but Karmel grinned.

"Erik" he greeted, "you decided to stay.” Karmel was desperate to hide how excited he was that Erik stayed, but Charles' mind-reading made it obvious to him. 

Erik smiled softly, nodding as it set Karmel's heart aflame.”Consider yourself a man of great persuasion” he commented.”Could convince me to do anything.”

Karmel forced back a dumb giggle.

Erik turned to the agent."If a new species is being discovered, it should be by it's own kind" Erik suggested blandly.

Karmel slowly turned to look at the agent, then to Charles."That...kinda makes sense. I mean, I agreed because you were there with your mind-reading thing. I definitely would've hesitated if only humans cornered me about it" he explained, Erik nodding from the doorway.

"Charles, Karmel and I find the mutants. No suits."

Karmel slowly licked his lips as he gazed at Erik, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth."Control yourself, Karmel, this is wrong. It’s fucking disgusting."

"First of all, that's my machine out there. Second of all, and much more importantly, this is Charles' decision."

Erik blinked to look over at Charles, Karmel quick to tear his gaze in the same direction.

Charles grinned at Karmel.

"Charles is fine with the CIA being involved. Isn't that right?" The agent asked.

Karmel turned to Erik, who he kept eye contact with despite Charles also looking at Erik in deep thought.

Charles inhaled slowly, succumbing to the same eyes Karmel refused to admit he was falling for."No. I'm sorry, but I'm with Karmel and Erik."

Karmel automatically smiled at Erik, crossing one leg over the other.

"We'll find them alone" Charles added.

"What if I say no?" The agent asked.

"Then good luck using your installation without Charles" Karmel smirked, tilting his head.

***

Charles led Raven, Erik, and Karmel up and inside the installation.

Hank greeted them."I, uh- I call it cerebro."

"Spanish for brain" Karmel translated, Charles and him laughing.

"You know Spanish?" Erik asked.

"Spanish, Hebrew, French...I think that's it" Karmel shrugged.

Erik nodded."Impressive."

"Thank you" Karmel smiled, turning away to hide his faint blush.”He thinks I’m impressive” he thought.

"Okay, so, the electrodes connect Charles to the transmitter on the roof. When he picks up a mutant, his brain sends a signal through a relay. And then the co-ordinates of their location are printed out here" Hank explained.

Karmel stood beside Erik, looking around."Erik."

"Yea?"

"Uhm..." Karmel shifted on the spot, fixing his tie."I like your top- your, uh, your turtleneck" he complimented.

"...Thank you" Erik adjusted his sleeves."I like your tie."

"Thanks” Karmel smiled, turning away to see Charles, who was quick to put the helmet on."Woah, Charlie Chaplin, easy-" he laughed.

"'Charlie Chaplin'?" Erik repeated, sort of mockingly.

"Charlie Chap- never mind-" Charles giggled, as Erik and Karmel walked over.

"What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles" Erik teased, Karmel laughing along behind his hand.

"Don't spoil this for me, you two" Charles responded, crossing his arms behind his back.

Erik and Karmel locked eyes, sharing soft grins and devious looks in their eyes."I've been a lab rat. I know when when I see one" Erik told, pointing at himself.

Karmel's grin vanished, looking slightly concerned for Erik.

"Okay, great" Hank stepped up, adjusting the helmet."Are you sure we can't shave your head?"

"Don't touch my hair" Charles stated.

"Okay" Hank cleared his throat.

"Me fuckin’ too, Charles" Karmel scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

Erik crossed his arms, looking at Karmel's hair."It would be a shame to shave your head" he agreed, technically complimenting his hair

Karmel teased his fingers through his dirty blond hair."Mmh, beware, it goeth before the fall" he shrugged, not trying to think too much into the compliment. Karmel watched Hank step down from the platform and start flipping some switches, hearing an engine start up as everyone looked up at Charles in awe, and wonder.

Erik held onto the railing surrounding Charles, setting a foot up on the platform.

Karmel thought about mirroring it, or doing a similar pose, but stopped himself before he could. Besides, he watched as Erik slowly pulled away when the noises became louder. 

Charles grunted, reaching out and grabbing the railing as his helmet lit up. He exhaled sharply, regaining composure. 

"It's working!"

Charles laughed- in satisfaction, with Karmel fighting back a cliche smile. 

***

Charles, Erik, and Karmel found themselves at a strip club first, to recruit a stripper named Angel.

Being at a strip club made Karmel feel secure, and made him think any attraction to the male species was simply some ploy he made up. That whatever he felt for Erik, was fake. And yet, out of every barely-dressed, beautiful woman in the room, he couldn't help but look over at Erik every once in a while. As if, to Karmel, Erik was the single most attractive being in the room.

Erik was painfully unaware, holding up a dollar bill to get Angel's attention. He didn't react when it did, the three men watching her advance over, down the curved table.

She crouched down smoothly in front of Erik, taking the bill between her fingers.

If that was Karmel, he’s sure his knees would crack like when you open a can of soda.

Karmel felt a weird rush of relief wash over him when he saw Erik show no interest, nor attraction, towards Angel. Why he felt relieved, now wasn't the time to dwell over it. Karmel was probably faking it, anyway.

"For that, daddy-o, you get a private dance" she purred.

Karmel felt himself hold back a mix between cringing and a scowl, along with ignore the feeling he felt at Erik being called 'daddy-o'. He exchanged looks with Erik and Charles, the three of themselves finding themselves sitting on a red bed in a private room. Karmel sat between Charles and Erik, backs against the wall and legs straight out. 

"You cats know it's triple for all three, right?" Angel asked, hand on her hip.

Charles chuckled right into Karmel's ear, Karmel simply grinning with Erik."No, that won't be necessary, although, I'm sure it'd be magic."

"We were thinking more, we'll show you ours if you show us yours" Erik suggested.

Karmel's eyebrows jumped, his reaction to how that sounded when taken out of context.

Angel giggled."Baby, that is not the way it works around here."

Erik snapped his fingers, the metal jug on the table beside him floating up and toward the men on the bed.

Karmel raised his hands, shaking them a bit as vines grew out of his palms, wrapping around the champagne glasses. He lifted them off of the tables.

"More tea, vicars?" Erik asked, as Karmel offered the glasses to the two men at his sides.

"Don't mind if we do" Charles replied, Erik pouring an equal amount of champagne into each glass. 

Once everyone got a hold of their glasses, Erik slowly let the jug back down onto the table. He lifted his glass, sipping his champagne.

Karmel quickly followed Erik's actions, as Charles put a few fingers to his temple. He furrowed his eyebrows when Angel started laughing, turning to Charles, who grinned and mouthed “other way.” Even more confused, poor Karmel turned to face Erik; too many emotions at once swirled inside him as he almost choked on his champagne. A vine spouted out from behind his back to hold his glass, as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, slowly looking Erik up and down.

Erik sat there, completely unaware of how he bore a red wig, a sleeveless (and sparkly) light blue dress, and black boots.

Charles chuckled, "it's good, isn't it?"

Now it was Erik's turn to be confused."What?"

Karmel's breath hitched, completely lost as far as his sexuality was concerned. He liked girls, he was sure of it. This interest in men- Erik, being one- had to be fake, or for attention. But what he felt, looking at Erik in women's clothes...was so terribly real he felt like strangling himself with his vines. And actually going through with it, this time, unlike his two attempts in the past.

"How did you do that?" Angel asked.

"Y-You-You, uh, you've never looked more beautiful...darling" Karmel stuttered out, praying to any deity out there that his face wasn't flushing.

"Enjoying this, aren't you?" Charles breathed, nudging Karmel.

"Say one more lie like that and it's you that my vines will be strangling" Karmel hissed, head snapping in Charles' direction.

"My turn" Angel spoke calmly, a trait Karmel would kill to have in that moment. He grabbed his glass, chugging it down to try to relieve himself as Angel went to unclasp her bra-like top. It stayed on, though, when fairy-like wings emerged from her back, lifting Angel off the floor as her wings beat like a hummingbird's.

Karmel looked to Charles, then Erik, the two men exchanging glances of their own.

"How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?" Charles offered.

***

Charles, Karmel, and Erik filed into the backseat of a cab with a black driver.

AKA, their next recruit: Darwin. He was skinny, with big eyes and a red sweater."Where to, fellas?" Darwin asked, looking at them through the rear-view mirror.

Karmel nervously licked his lips, mind racing when Erik merely sat right up against him."Control yourself," he thought, "you're both men. This is wrong. It's weird, unnatural, Karmel. You’re fucking deranged."

Charles glanced over at Karmel quickly.

"Richmond, Virginia, please" Erik replied.

"Right, so you want airport, the station, what-?" Darwin chuckled, puzzled.

"No, we were rather hoping you would..." Karmel paused, Erik's eyes on him.

"Take us all the way" Charles finished, cringing when Karmel's mind went through idea after idea on situations with Erik where he could 'take him all the way'. He wasn't even trying to read Karmel's mind, the mutant just projects so fucking much.

"That's a six hour drive" Darwin clarified.

"That will give us plenty of time to talk" Erik gestured two fingers to the side, a yellow knob falling and locking a cassette tape in place.

***

"What the hell does the government want with a guy like Alex Summers? Hope you're not planning on putting him with others; first guy I ever met who actually prefers solitary confinement" the prison authority spoke, unlocking a thick door.

Karmel looked Erik up and down, feelings never let down when he wore that brown leather jacket.

The door slide open, and inside sat a thin-built blond boy, who looked up when he heard the cranking noise.

***

Charles, Karmel, and Erik passed by a blonde girl leaving the aquarium, as they approached a boy named Sean Cassidy. 

Karmel's gaze darted around the place, his head empty except for the fleeting, and obviously unwanted, thought of an aquarium date with Erik. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought, but his feelings only grew stronger. What was happening? It's not okay to think of stuff like that- Karmel was sure he only liked girls, and here was Erik, messing him up even more than usual.

***

Erik, Karmel, and Charles made their way into a bar, approaching a man- with a ridiculous hairstyle- sitting by himself at the bar. Erik and Charles walked up to either side of the man, Karmel standing at attention behind him."Excuse me, I'm Erik Lehnsherr."

"Charles Xavier."

"Karmel Rosenstein."

"Go fuck yourself" the man spoke, lighting a cheap cigar.

Erik's face softly scrunched at what he said, eyebrows knitting together.

Charles inhaled slowly, also taken aback by the response.

Karmel held back a laugh, liking the guy's attitude. He pat Erik's shoulder in reassurance, also just taking the free opportunity to touch him.

Charles led Erik and Karmel back out the way they came, Karmel turning to look back over his shoulder.

Karmel caught the man watching them leave, and smiled smugly, saluting him with two fingers.

The man arched a brow, blowing out a puff of smoke. He nodded at Karmel, promptly turning back around to take a swig of his drink.

[theclosetpoet7]

If My Heart Was A House page 7

Day Seven of @clotiweek​

sweater weather • tropes

"Autumn is the season to find contentment at home by paying attention to what we already have."

It is a rare occasion for the kids to be away for the weekend.

Cloud pops the cork off the bottle of wine, his hands shaking nervously while he pours it in Tifa's glass. She holds the thin stem of the handle with such class, reminding him of the fact that she was once the mayor's daughter. 

The barmaid had probably taken etiquette lessons during her teenage years.

Had probably stolen everyone's hearts at one point because Gaia knows she's good at that. Given that she's had his heart in her hands for decades.

She had always been popular, especially with the men. He wonders how many suitors have come knocking on her father's door. Confident boys coming over with a bouquet of flowers and probably a slab of meat they've hunted on their own to impress the older man.

All dressed up to ask for the mayor's permission to take his daughter out.

Cloud wonders if Brian Lockhart had indeed given his approval to some boy.

Wonders even more if he would've gotten it had he only made it into SOLDIER at that age.

Perhaps Tifa's father would approve of him as well?

And forgive Cloud for failing to save her...

For the two years that he was away, and the five other he spent in Hojo's lab and running from Shinra, did Tifa ever go out on an intimate date like the one they are having now?

He had resigned himself to the truth that he may not be able to give her the ideal setting, but tries anyway.

It was Yuffie's idea actually. She volunteered to take the children out and then accompany them to stay with Barret for a while. Their gun-armed friend had been excited to see his lovely daughter, even sent pictures of the rooms he had prepared and the presents he got Marlene and Denzel.

Tifa hinted that he should get one for Yuffie as well.

Their children were so excited for the trip. Corel had started a tradition to give out candy to the visitors who come wearing costumes. Cloud had found it strange at first but Tifa wasn't worried about the idea and had in fact thought about trying it next year.

Next year.

It still fills him with a sense of peace whenever they make plans for the future. It gives him reassurance that they're going to stay together no matter what happens.

That Tifa is going to stay with him. 

And she's beautiful.

She's stunning.

She's wearing a blue button-up long sleeve with casual black leggings, her long hair pulled up into a loose ponytail. His childhood friend shyly swishes the drink in her glass and meets his eyes across the table.

"This is really sweet of you, Cloud."

He gulps down his portion, meeting her eyes and smiling sheepishly.

"Hm."

Damn, is that all he can manage to say back?

"I like your jacket today."

Cloud looks down at what he's wearing. He had been eyeing this black jacket for a while, and with the changing weather here in Edge, he had thought that tonight would be the right time to use it. So she can see him in an outfit that's a bit more fanciful than his sleeveless turtleneck. 

"You...uh...look pretty."

For some reason, even if he hasn't heard Zack's voice in his head for months, he can hear his best friend laugh at the awkward way he compliments his woman.

"Smooth Cloud, real smooth."

Aerith would tease him, too. 

“You can do better than that.”

Tifa’s cheeks look red though, and Cloud uses this opportunity to timidly slide his hand across the table, just enough for her to reach it, if she wants to.

They haven't held hands since October. And though their distance is closing at a faster pace than he's able to handle at times, he had been missing that intimate touch.

Tifa grins at him and covers his hand with hers, giggling in a charming way that has his lips tilting to the side and his hand turning up so he can touch her palm to palm.

Smirking as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear when he taps her wrist playfully. 

His lover pulls her hand away and laughs when he frowns. 

The barmaid holds her index finger up, telling him to wait. Then, she points it to the center of his hand and traces a pattern on his warm skin, forming a word while she scrunches her nose in that adorable way that is uniquely Tifa. He can discern the meaning of the kanji she writes, heart pumping wildly while she slides her finger diagonally.

Just when she's about to finish, a loud beep comes from the kitchen and all of a sudden, he can smell smoke.

Shit.

He abruptly stands, shaking the table and causing the wine to spill all over. Tifa gets to her feet and follows him to the kitchen, grabbing the small fire extinguisher and popping it to spray white fluff all over the oven. 

While she does this, Cloud puts on Cactuar-shaped mitts and takes the pan off the oven.

He curses. 

The roasted chicken and potatoes he had prepared earlier this evening look inedible, burnt to a crisp. His shoulders slump, the displeasure flooding his thoughts.

One night.

He needed one night to impress his boyhood crush, yet somehow, things never seem to go right.

She reassures him with her kind smile though, resting her hand over his bicep, an act of comfort. Still, it doesn't make him feel any better.

When the alarming beeps quiet down, Cloud walks out to throw the ruined meal into the trash bin down the alley. 

Sighing, he looks up at the sky, wondering how he's going to make it up to her.

Yuffie and Marlene would be so disappointed. 

Tifa steps out of the house, the wooden door swinging shut as she jogs down to him.

"I ordered pizza. They said it will take thirty minutes."

Cloud merely nods his head. 

"Cloud? What's wrong?"

He inhales deeply when she reaches his side. He feels a bit embarrassed. So, instead of replying, he runs his fingers through his spiky blond hair.

"Cloud?"

"I'm sorry for ruining tonight."

"Hey, it's okay. I..."

She hooks her arm through his, pulling Cloud's attention to her. But, when his cerulean orbs clash with her carmine ones, Tifa ends up looking away.

"You?"

A second passes before she finds her words and turns back to smile up at him.

"I was already happy that you're taking some time off for me."

Golden eyebrows shoot up, puzzled that such a simple gesture was well received with her enthusiasm.

"So, thank you for doing that. And, thank you for cooking dinner."

"I'll do better next time."

Tifa shakes her head, that smile still on her exquisite face.

"I don't want you to think that you have to, okay? You're here. That is enough for me."

He turns in her hold, raising his arm to cup her cheek, tilting it to his mouth.

Really now.

How is it that this girl always manages to lighten up his mood?

She always knows exactly what to say.

He kisses her under the moonlight, grateful that he's with her.

Grateful for her patience, her understanding.

Grateful that she's his.

.

.

.

Maybe next time, he'll take her out instead. 

[nyeddleblog]

Can’t Stop Staring.

Words count: 1345.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Language.

Request:  hi! could you please do a Draco Malfoy x reader where Draco and you have been dating for a little while but it’s the yule ball and he’s kind of nervous bc it’s the one night where he has to let his guard down and act like a ✨gentleman✨ instead of a bad boy but then all of a sudden you come down looking gorgeous in a beautiful gown and he is just,, LOVESTRUCK and he gets so giddy and all his worries go away and now he’s just concerned with showing you the greatest time possible. ty!!

Draco wasn’t gentle, especially when something bothered him. He was many things; jealous, insecure, kinda possessive, but gentle wasn’t one of them. So when he pulled you by the wrist to an empty hallway, slamming you against the wall in a soft but hurried way, you knew it was his way of telling you he felt anxious.

“Is everything okay?” you asked with a soft, innocent tone. He groaned, and tangled his arms over your shoulders, wanting to hold you close. “You know? You should use words to express your feelings.”

You were the only one allowed to see him like this, a mumbling nervous mess; someone who’s soft on the inside and the outside. So, the fact that you were mocking him with your light sarcasm made him feel offended as if you had no intention of either helping him or respecting him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. You tilted your head to the side, starting to smile because. Did Draco Malfoy just asked permission to kiss you? Playfully you answered: “No”

He groaned.

“Tell me what’s wrong”

Draco got away from you dramatically. He started playing with his fingers as you giggled softly, amused by his flustered state. Why was he so nervous around you? You hadn’t seen him like that since he asked you out. In second year.

“I was wondering if... I was wondering if you’d like to come to the Yule Ball with me...”

And that was it, you bent yourself over your body trying to contain the laughter that you’ve been hiding this whole time. Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, with all of his bad-boy vibe, got all troubled about asking his girlfriend to the Yule Ball. Even though that very same girl had assumed that they’d go together already.

“No, I wouldn’t” you joked “Harry Potter already asked me, I said yes”

“I knew you’d say yes! Wait... What? Potter did what? AND YOU SAID YES?”

You took a good look at his disgusted face and was going to play on until you saw sadness and disappointment taking over his eyes. Deciding you’d just end up the joke, you put a hand on his shoulder that he rapidly shook off.

“I was just kidding” you cupped his face and planted a chaste kiss “Of course I’ll go with you, I actually assumed we’d go together.”

His eyes softening up, he embraced your waist lovingly. Draco was such a softie around you, that if anyone saw him they’d have so much material to tease him.

“Really?”

“Yes, really”

Draco was about to kiss you again, but footsteps were heard near the hallway; looking up at his hesitant face, you knew he wasn’t ready to let go of his “mean guy reputation” so you wisely left a kiss on his cheek and started walking towards your House entrance. And as he saw you going, he understood you deserved nothing but a gentleman in that Ball, and he wasn’t going to be anything else.

“Look what Juliet is wearing, Y/N! That robe is amazing!” your roommate let out, eyes filled with lust. You knew she wasn’t referring only to the robe, but you wouldn’t ruin her obliviousness just yet, she had to figure it out by herself. “...And you? What are you going to wear?”

Helena, your roommate who wasn’t even looking at you when she inquired, had her eyes locked up on the sixth-grader. It made you giggle softly because she hadn’t realized that you were already dressed up.

“I don’t know, maybe if you stopped drooling you could look at it... Or get dressed!”

She rolled her eyes at you and checked you out. It was a very elegant robe, of a velvety material. It had a little butterfly pin just under your breasts that highlighted the cleavage, and from then on it was completely loose. More than a robe, it looked like a fancy coat, with a middle-aged vibe. Under it, to not let your cleavage or any noble parts show, you used a tight lace dress, sleeveless and turtlenecked. It got until your mid-thigh, being met by your knee-high boots.

You looked amazing, especially because you had decided to straighten your hair and wear it down. With what you were wearing, there was no need to also do your hair; your black lipstick was already standing out.

“Okay, you look great. I mean, holy shit. I knew you were hot, but never knew you were this hot.”

After a while of helping Helena with her dress, the time to go to the Ball had arrived; you weren’t exactly nervous like she was, but most likely excited. This whole thing was new for you, and well, every wizard student in the school. 

Coming down the stairs from your house entrance to the dining hall was a real quest. Your high heeled boots didn’t make it easier, and the lack of balance on Helena made it worse. Either way, you looked like a queen when you entered the dining hall. People felt like they should bow before you.

Or at least, that was what Draco thought.

You were there, standing awkwardly and searching for him, while Helena supported herself on your shoulder, trying to adjust her shoe. But he saw you as a divine figure he wasn’t worthy of touching.

“Holy shit, Helena, are you okay?” you giggled, kneeling near your friend who had just fallen on a table. “Do you want me to call Madame Pomfrey?”

“No, no. I’m alright, it’s just... These fucking shoes...!” She looked up, and started blushing “Ohmygod, Juliet is coming my way...!!!”

And just as she said it, Juliet stood in front of Helena, asking if she can sit beside her. You knew at that moment, that you were third-wheeling. So the task of finding your boyfriend begun.

While walking around, you won quite the looks. There were boys everywhere trying to flirt with you, or dance with you, or some straight up trying to make out with you. But where was your boy, to do all those things with?

You were seriously considering something bad had happened to him, and maybe that was the reason behind his disappearance. But just as you were heading to the nursery, he asked for your hand.

To dance.

“Draco! Finally! I was starting to get worried!”

He smiled to the side, without making eye contact. There was a soft pink tint on his cheeks, that invoked an innocent look you never saw on him before. He leaned in, expecting you to close the gap between your lips, but the chance you had to tease him was more tempting.

You spun around, winning a little more space between the other students; quickly, you and Draco won unexpected stares. You waited, knowing he’d either snap at you for calling the attention, or he’d chicken out from being the gentle dancer he was acting as, but neither of those happened.

He hummed, bringing you close softly. You gasped surprised, to which he just giggled. “You look gorgeous tonight, by the way”

There was no way this was Draco Malfoy.

���Thank you” you blushed slightly. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and willingly took your hand to spin you around once more. There were amazed gasps and dreamy sighs everywhere. 

Maybe people weren’t as shocked as you thought they were. Maybe they weren’t even staring. Anyway, you didn’t care. All you could think of, and you could see was your boy. He was moving with you, and your bodies synchronized perfectly. The music seemed to follow your steps and not your steps following the music. You felt like this was all just a dream.

The most beautiful dream you’d ever had.

“Can I kiss you know?” he smirked.

Draco gasped when he saw you leaning in. His hands took your head impatiently, and his lips crashed into yours. The soft clapping was heard all around the dining hall, with people joining the three schools.

“I love you”