#work consumes me and when i get home i just wanna get high and zone out playing cotl

[asktotallyhuman]

//hopefully when ive moved and get settled in my new place i might actually be able to finish some posts once in a while

[majesty0h]

~Sharing is CARING. And Toji Cares About You Very Much~ imagine this is them ok

You and Toji have a great sex life. Scratch that, you have an AMAZING sex life. His stamina is stupid, he's packing bigger than you've ever encountered...he's a FREAK. A hulking, muscled freak who's down for anything and has showed your usually prude ass things you've never even dreamed of. Bondage, wearing vibrators in public, petplay, breathplay, temperature play, hell one time he ate your ass on the balcony while he was dressed as Wolverine. You had no clue where he got all of these ideas, but you certainly weren't complaining.

The current "thing" was watching porn on your VR headset while he went down on you. He'd been shocked to hear that you didn't consume it regularly, I mean, he was beating off to BBW on the Hub every chance he got. He was determined to force you outside your comfort zone.

It started slow, vanilla. Standard B/G, anal. Then it evolved to breeding, cucking, double penetration...

That's when he noticed it.

You took forever, FOREVER to cum on his mouth (to his annoyance) when you were watching dirty movies. But when you stumbled upon a woman getting plowed by her husband and his best friend...you were quick. Too quick. The way you moaned and gripped his hair, pulling him in deeper, it caused his tongue to stop flickering for a moment.

"Hm? What the fuck's gotten you so riled up, ma?"

You instantly freeze and pause the video, cheeks burning red behind that stupid headset, feeling dirty, feeling bad. It was bad this was so hot, right? "Uh, nothing. Just usual stuff," you lied.

You're a terrible liar.

You feel and hear the bed creak as he shifts up and snatches the device off you, raising it up and peering. He's wearing just grey sweatpants, that were tenting the minute he realized what was up. A shit eating grin spread across his face. "Oh fuck. That's what you're into now?"

You groan and throw a pillow at him. "Shu up! I've just never seen it before. You ruined the mood."

Your boyfriend is snickering at your discomfort. "Uh huh. Get on all fours. I wanna see who fucks her better."

You push this morning's events out of your head as you go to work. And it's definitely not when you return home ten hours later, tired, annoyed, and frustrated.

"Hey babes. Welcome home!" Toji, your beautiful trophy boy calls from the living room. "How was work?"

Sighing you kick off your heels and scan your phone. "It was rough. This merger is insane. We have 5 million dollars riding on this and everyone wants to dick around. I thought being Vice President was worth the drama, but it's seriously getting to me," you vent as you scroll through dozens of confidential, high priority emails.

Maybe that's why you loved Toji so much. Whenver you're with him, you don't think about deadlines, trades, layoffs. Just feeling good, happy, and full.

Walking into the living room, you're so engrossed you don't even register there's someone else sitting on the couch with Fushiguro. You only look up in confusion when the stranger whistles, low and deep. It's almost like a purr. "Damn Toji, you weren't lyin'. Complete smokeshow."

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up. There he is, manspreading on your very expensive couch, sleek black boots pressed against your /very/ expensive white rug. He's tall, lanky, built like a beanpole. He's got a shock of white hair, and he's wearing small, circle shaped sunglasses, but the shine of dazzling blue eyes peek through anyways.

Toji's looking at you like it's Christmas morning, his gaze darting between the other man and his jaded wifey. He seems to drink in your confusion.

"Oh...I...I didn't know you had a friend over," you say after an awkward pause. You're trying to address your man, but you can't tear your eyes away from this twink. Who is he? "Hi?"

The stranger beams, shifting to a more professional posture. God he is tall. You feel so small under his gaze, and you glance to Toji for help, understanding. He offers none. "Hey, pretty lady. My name is Jerome. Jerome Washington. The building's maintenance man. I heard..." he leans slightly closer to you, sliding his shades just down an inch. "You need your pipes cleaned."

You blink. "No? The pipes are fine?"

Toji groans in disproval and shoves "Jerome" slightly. "Dude, I told you, you don't gotta do any of that shit. Just be normal, for fuck's sake."

The stranger, who was doing his best to seem mysterious and commanding, broke into a boyish smile. "Oh yeah my bad. Sup? I'm Satoru Gojo. I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight!"

"We," Toji corrected, but he's got that same expression.

Have you gone crazy? Has the stress finally made you crack? Are you hallucinating? This was a fever dream. Toji had a knack for wanting to snap the neck of any man who even looked at you...so why was he sitting here, giddy, as this "Satoru" addressed you so vulgar? So hungry?

"...huh?" is the only thing you can say, darting between the pair. You're more than a yard away, but you can practically smell the lust filling the room. "Toji...what is--"

"Remember earlier today?" he interrupts, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "When you were creamin' over that video? The Eiffel Tower?"

"Toji!!"you hiss, flustered he would bring this up in front of a guest.

He cocks his head, throwing Gojo a knowing smirk. "She's all shy. Isn't that cute? But I promise, she was feening."

Satoru licks his lips, still undressing you with his eyes. "I bet. To be honest I haven't either. But I'm not stupid enough to turn it down."

Toji snorts. "Yeah? Don't worry, I'll show your prudes how it's done." He snaps his fingers at you. "C'mere doll. C'mere and kneel."

You're glued to the same spot, trying to reconcile what's happening. You watch as Satoru pats his knee, promising not to bite, unless you're into that.

"Princess,"Toji repeats again, his tone firm and commanding enough to snap you back to reality. You know that voice. It's the "you listen or you're in a lot of trouble" voice.

Sheepishly, you stare at your feet as you shuffle forward. You can't ignore how your heart beats in your chest, how your dress feels too tight, how this is the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced.

"Kneel."

You don't defy him. You look up at them both with doey eyes, shuddering when he grips your chin, stroking your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb. Gojo hums and repeats the same motion on the other side. His touch is soft and warm, and you can't help the soft sigh that escapes you. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing warmth. Your boyfriend presses your foreheads together, his voice syrupy against your ear. "I love you so much, doll. I'd do anything to make you happy. If this doesn't show it, nothing else will. Now you just relax and I'm gonna make your fantasies all come true," he promise as he nips at your neck. "Now start making our friend feel at home."

You swallowed hard. You feel like you could faint. You want to reply "yes daddy" like the good girl you are, but words fail you. All you can do is nod.

You take a deep breath and scoot over, still on your knees, but nestled between Gojo's skinny legs. He smiles down at you innocently, but the contents of his words are far from it. "You have such pretty lips, sweetie. How about you open them for me?"

You glance at Toji for reassurance, but he's gone from the couch, crouching behind you, fingers weaving into your hair, massaging your scalp. "Go on."

Your hands tremble as you reach for Gojo's belt.

((haven't written anything like this in years LOL im so rusty. stay tuned for part 2 and feel free to share ;D ))

[daisybianca]

hey, could you do a friends to lovers w/ charles!

WAG VIBES

pairing: charles leclerc x femalereader

summary: charles had been your friend since you could remember yourself. after a few years of not being able to meet, he promised you that a package would be at your door in a matter of hours. little did you know that the mysterious package was the man himself and that things would get a little bit complicated between the two of you.

warnings: slight swearing, tiny mentions of sex

NOT CONSTRUCTING AN incredibly powerful bond when in the early ages of your lives, wasn't an available option when it came to you and Charles Leclerc, the admired and favored F1 driver.

Your mothers had formed an appreciable friendship since high school and that seemed to be just enough for their children to inherit that habit as well.

Due to his strenuous and consuming profession, his job required nonstop traveling to different mainlands and constant practicing. Because of this, there had been numerous months you two hadn't succeed to meet.

You had considered the lacking variety of options to spend time with your childhood friend, but none of them really appeared to be the precise solution. The idea of attending an f1 race slipped by your thoughts for a second, but you rejected it almost immediately. The events took place far away from your home country and the responsibility for your job and your limited time were the main reasons holding you back.

However, you two had figured out a way to communicate with each other by texting almost every night to talk about your day and in the morning, before heading to work. Face-timing was also an extremely pleasant remedy to cure your friend's sadness and rage after a rough or even a poor performance at a Grand Prix. Video chatting also seemed to be useful when you lost track of time at work and returned home late at night. Even if you were in your car, Charles insisted that he was willing to keep an eye on you, despite the fact that time zones were undoubtedly a challenging thing.

So generally, you always somehow found your way to each other. One way or another, you both created methods to achieve that.

Charles texted you this morning. Just at 10am. He was fully aware of the reality that you never were an early riser and knew better than to ruin that.

The fact is, though, that you wouldn't really mind as long as it was him interrupting your soothing time in bed.

It was bizarre that he texted you a good morning text. He never surely did, preferring the Face-Time choice to view your sleepy and drowsy reactions.

Your concern about his unusual message faded out by the time a second one showed up, brightening up the screen in the unilluminated room.

Harry Pottah from Walmart: Good Morning, Sunshine.

You read the very first message, which was accompanied by a bright sun emoji.

You let yourself shape a tiny smile. There had been a few days since you last heard him form those words. You adored him calling you that, but it would be so much better hearing it face to face.

You transferred your eyes to glance the second text.

Harry Pottah from Walmart: There'll be a package on your door at 7pm ASAP. Open the door and receive it. I hope you don't need a tutorial for that too, otherwise don't you dare ask me, there's something called freaking internet to help you out. I'm not a Wikipedia machine.

Your smile vanished and for a couple of seconds you felt remorseful for allowing him to know how obsessed you once used to be with Youtube tutorials.

A third, smaller text appeared on the screen, catching you off guard.

Harry Pottah from Walmart: P.S. be kind to the delivery man or I'm calling your mom.

Taking a loud, extended breath, you typed the response to his messages with almost-wobbly hands.

Me: Mrs. Pascale wouldn't be proud of his son talking to a lady like that.

You sent the sentence, mentioning his own mother to tease him a little, while including an emoji that was supposed to portray a sad face at the end of it.

You chortled at his amusing answer and placed your phone on the nightstand to charge it.

Getting up from your bed to endure your monotonous day, all your mind could revolve around was the package Charles referred to previously.

You had a great instinct for that and your heart was fierce and deafening in your chest, only at the thought of him gifting something to you after a very long time. You didn't permit yourself to build sizeable expectations because the outcome could be also disappointing, though.

But you couldn't care less if the content of the package was pretty or cheap or pricey as long as it was from him.

You exhaled and sniffled the odor of the coffee you made and felt the warmth of it enfolding your hands.

Just a couple of hours to figure out.

You could wait with the sensation of anticipation filling every inch of your body.

It wasn't like he could possibly show up at your door. He couldn't do that, he had a race in Russia in a couple of days.

It was just a package.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Yet, your mind denied doggedly to remain at a distance from it.

The hours passed surprisingly briefly and the clock above the kitchen table of your duplex apartment read 6:58 pm.

As you glanced over at the door, the flashings of the booming bolts of lightning outside the window made you observe the violent rainfall which turned the night sky quite gloomy.

Who would have thought that something so colorless as water could make clouds that dark and shadowy?

Approaching one of the wide windows, you tried to scrub condensed water droplets so that you could obtain a clearer view of the busy street ahead. There were plenty of people holding umbrellas and walking down the moist pavement, but no one actually headed to the entry of your home.

You were pressing your lips together in worry when the bell suddenly rang, gaining your attention solely.

You walked to the door with brave and patient small steps, opening it without minding asking who was behind it. If you got kidnapped or robbed, it'd be Charles' fault for instructing you to open the door at 7pm sharp.

The person that came into sight caused a considerably powerful freezing to your entire body, soul, brain, and most importantly, to the red organ vibrating inside of you.

Charles' eyes lit up and changed from narrow to wide when his gaze fell upon you. ''Sorry, the delivery man turned into a wet cat. Jesus, I'm soaked.'' Your head dropped back. Your laugh was a weapon of mass seduction and he had always remained its biggest target.

So he just stood there staring and beaming as he allowed the sound of your chucklesome laugh to imprint on his mind.

He hadn't heard that while facing each other in forever and a day. Only through a lifeless and wireless device, which only produced image and sound but failed to extract the small details of your face while forming the act. Of your petite nose wrinkling when you laughed. Of your dainty features that brightened up the whole room when you were in it and blessed the observer with a unique smile.

You almost rushed to him, falling into his moist embrace. He seemed to be quite hesitant about hugging you back because of his sopping clothes but finally, he gave in and wrapped his hands gently around you. Charles caressed your back and you could sense the watered fabric stick to your flesh, yet you didn't even mind. Not for a single moment.

His sweet glare reminded you of a golden retreiver.

''How long have you been in the country?'' You gestured for him to enter the house and he did, after removing his waterlogged shoes.

''Since this morning. I texted you the moment I got off the plane.'' His gaze found you and there was a glimpse in those colorful eyes of his that made butterflies take flight in your stomach.

That made sense. That was the reason why he selected chatting instead of video chatting.

He was here. With you. You couldn't believe it.

You needed to shoot a question but his penetrating gaze incapacitated you. ''Don't you have a race in like three days from now?'' Curiosity finally won as you blurted the words out.

''You mean the Russian Grand Prix? It was canceled so I have a few days to rest.'' Charles blinked twice. How the hell didn't you read somewhere about the race being called off? ''Oh, um--I bought you this.'' The man handed you a plastic bag with a heavy, brown box with a red, decorative strip in a heart shape on top of it. It looked like a product from a pastry shop.

You grinned and accepted the bag, placing it on the table that was located a few feet ahead. ''What's that?''

''I played the role of the delivery man, so I suppose that's for the package I promised.'' Charles explained and approached you from behind, eventually his posture hardening a few inches away from you.

You nearly gasped at the sight of the content of the box.

It was a remarkably enormous cake. A chocolate one, to be accurate, which made your mouth water momentarily. With dissimilar-hued sprinkles patterning small hearts and covering the surface of the dessert. Additionally, a smiley face was laying in the heart of the cake, two white cookies forming the eyes, while the mouth was nicely done with matching truffles.

''Charles, did you forget the date of my birthday?'' You giggled.

''Of course I remember when your birthday is, (y/n)!'' Your childhood friend's orotund voice sounded rather... offended?!

''Why would you buy me a cake then, Charles?'' You tittered, turning around to face the man standing with his arms crossed firmly and his eyes traveling around.

He kind of seemed taller. But he obviously wasn't because you had last seen him a few months ago, not in puberty.

''I just--I recalled how much you love cakes.'' Charles' tone emerged as gruff and hoarse. ''I never forgot, to be honest.''

A sense of pride hit you, considering he never failed to commit to memory small, inconsequential details about you.

''I have a few clothes kept in the closet for you. You should probably get changed before devouring the smiley face with me, Mrs. Leclerc.'' His eyes dropped down to you and then, he shook his head unapprovingly and smiled.

You placed your palms softly on his drenched and strong chest, expecting the warmth of him to have kind of hidden behind the frostiness of the fabric.

But there it was. Covering every inch of his flawless-crafted upper body.

''Nah,'' He pronounced the word confidently and loudly. Charles' lips curved into a seductive smile that made your knees feely unsteady for a little while. Reaching out, he grabbed your hands from his chest and delicately applied carefully small kisses to them. ''I'm not sharing that cake with you. It's all yours, Sunshine.''

Your stomach did a betraying little flip that somewhat terrified you.

''If you don't eat, I don't eat either.''

Charles released a shuddery breath, uncapturing your hands from his grip as you immediately missed the feeling of his flesh touching yours.

You looked up to find his gaze already fixed on you.

''Fine.'' Smacking slightly the back of your neck, he started running upstairs in a hurry. ''But you're not playing fair!'' He yelled as you sprinted behind him.

Entering the commodious guest room, you spotted Charles almost buried in the broad closet.

''I don't know which one might look better on me.'' He extended his hands, swirling two different-shaded hoodies in the air. ''What do you think?''

You blinked at the two pieces of clothing. The one to your left was deep green while the other was a Spongebob hoodie your mother had gifted Charles for his 22nd birthday.

''Since when do you care about being fashionable?'' You joked, raising an eyebrow. ''Last time I checked fashion was a completely foreign word to you.'' Moving nearer to him, you examined the two options in his hands.

''I feel rather offended.'' Charles laughed, turning into ice as your forehead was a few inches away from his mouth. The desire to nudge forward and collide his lips with your forehead ignited like a scorching blaze inside him.

''I think I prefer this one.'' Your eyes connected with his as you patted the greenish hoodie. ''Don't tell my mom I didn't choose the one she bought you, but the green one matches your eyes better.''

Charles swayed his head. ''Your secret is safe with me.''

Dropping the Spongebob hoodie on the bed behind you, he pulled his phone, a wallet, and his keys out of the pockets of his jeans. Your friend handed them to you instead of dropping them on the bed with the yellow fabric.

Charles forced his wet hoodie off his head, unveiling the abs, arms and chest beneath it.

You suddenly sensed a slight flushing on your face. Charles noticed that.

''Are you blushing?'' His question caused a tickle to your heart.

You turned around, not allowing yourself to view the almost naked Charles anymore.

''No, I am not.'' You denied the painful truth, biting your bottom lip to prevent any unethical words from escaping. ''Next time racing don't choke on water. Try utilizing it to clean your eyesight, because you're clearly fairly blind.''

Charles fleed a husky growling that was supposed to sound like a laugh.

Gosh, you were so fucked.

''I don't remember you having such an attitude, sweatheart.'' His tone was smoky and flat.

You ignored his statement and could identify the sound of his jeans being unzipped.

You froze and tried desperately to locate something to distract you from what was occurring just behind you.

Abandoning his wallet and the keys on the closer furniture, which happened to be a forgotten desktop, you turned his phone on in rapid movements and headed to the camera app, while posing to take a few funny photos of yourself.

At the sight of the photo that covered his phone screen, your thoughts emptied.

''Am I your lockscreen?'' You blurted out as you re-viewed the woman on Charles' screen to double-check it was certifiably you.

''Shit, you weren't supposed to see that!'' The man grabbed the device and you spun to find him changed in his favorite cozy, grey sweatpants and the hoodie you had selected just moments ago.

The image that seemed to be his lockscreen was a moment he had captured two Christmases ago. In the photo, you hugged tightly a snowman that leaned like the tower of Pisa as you two laughed uncontrollably at it falling apart in your embrace.

It was the last Christmas you two had managed to spend together and it was nearly painful recalling those unforgettably beautiful moments that had stamped your mind.

''You're the one blushing now, Sir.'' Charles frowned at the last word you added to your ironic statement.

''Don't fucking call me that.'' He passed by you furiously and you giggled.

He was mad for some reason now. But everything would be just fine in a few minutes. That's how your friendship worked since you could remember yourselves being each other's dearest company.

As your hands scratched the wet surface of the dishes, Charles' ethereal voice echoed, approaching from behind. ''You sure you don't need any help with those?'' He asked for the second time, referring to the dirty dishes on the sink with dregs of chocolate on them.

''No, I'm almost done.''

Looking at you, he bit his upper lip, tasting the flavor of the chocolate from moments earlier.

He had one slice while you almost ate half of the cake.

Indeed you adored chocolate cakes. You had almost forgotten how much you loved them.

But Charles hadn't.

Charles breathed and let his gaze wander on you. He couldn't fathom how this earth and the sun and the moon and the sky could exist and be perceived as enteral sources of happiness, yet... yet the woman standing right in front of him could bring so much warmth and comfort to him with just a single glance or a small smile.

He moved closer to you. You could sense the heat of his body right next to you. However, you didn't permit yourself to move or talk or even breathe...

Charles' arm found its way around your neck and froze there. At first, you thought it was one of his platonic gestures where he would jokingly wrap his hand around you, preventing you from moving, and would tickle the shit out of you until you burst into mixed tears and laughs.

But when his lips collided with your forehead softly, you realized it wasn't one of those moments.

Charles planted a smooch on your skin, depositing his wet mark there.

''I've been waiting to do that for quite a while. And more.'' Your eyes extended as Charles pulled you into a warm embrace. It felt so good and you realized your friend enjoyed it as well when a small groan escaped from him. You wished you could stay like that forever. ''I kind of missed you, Sunshine.''

''Kind of?''

Charles smiled before correcting. ''A lot.'' You smiled too as he amended his words. ''Oh, and I-um, I have an announcement to make.'' He whispered, pulling back to view your reaction as he spoke the words loud and clear. ''I'm sleeping in your bed tonight. With you. Like those old days when we could fit into a single bed, remember?''

You tried to hide your excitement. You would have tried to suggest this to him, but you were a little scared of any possible rejection of your plan. ''My bed is king-sized, so I'll guess that would be pretty cool.''

If the sound of the rain didn't completely fill the room, you could have possibly heard the roaring of his heart in his chest when you accepted his idea. Besides, your head was just a few inches away from his torso. It wouldn't be too difficult for the organ to be noticed.

The rest of the afteroon progressed rapidly, forming into a rainy night. You two watched an SCI-FI movie, which Charles insisted he had seen before, although it was eventually proven that he hadn't, because of the fact that he had predicted an extremely different ending.

You laughed at Charles' hilarious stories of the F1 races, rolling in the aisles, and he took advantage of that, capturing the moment with his phone camera.

You danced and pursued Charles to join you. The frown drawn on his face at that moment was something truly worth-laughing at.

By the time the clock had declared that it was nearly 2am, Charles approached you on the floor and you didn't protest as he wrapped an arm around you, taking the brunt of your weight. He didn't think as he hauled you over his shoulder, bringing your ass to his eye level.

''I think my feet need to be amputated.'' You flinched, completely losing your footing as he carried you upstairs. The dancing was genuinely exhausting but the overall experience was certainly worth it.

''Problem solved, Sunshine.''

''Charles!'' You shouted, facing his back. You could swear that the cake you previously devoured was by far the most satisfying thing you had ever smelled, but the aroma extracting from Charles' body was always so outstanding and incredibly... alluring. ''What are you doing?'' You rammed your small fists into his spine and he grunted.

''Being a gentleman.''

''More like a caveman! Put me down right now! This is so embarassing.''

''No one is here to see you, (y/n).'' Charles mentioned as he slowly walked up the stairs, heading to your room.

Your head lifted. ''What time is it?''

''Almost two.''

You gasped. ''Gosh, I lost track of time.'' Charles blinked. Twice. He tried so hard not to transfer his eyes to your ass. He even moved his rough hands lower on your thighs, so that he wouldn't have any physical touch with that exact lovely part of your body.

''No worries, we'll make it to your room before you turn into a pumpkin, princess.''

''That's not even how the story goes, Charles!'' Your laugh was muffled by his hoodie as he carried you to the door.

''Close enough.''

''God, you can be so annoying sometimes.'' If you two held eye contact right now, you would be receiving a very alarming death stare from him.

But that was not his response presently.

Instead, Charles smacked your ass for that comment.

''Did you j-just spank me?!'' You choked at the sound of his hand colliding with your ass.

He just touched you.

There.

Charles' hand burnt to do it again if only to hear that little gasp you made when his palm slammed your flesh.

Returning the favor, you smack his ass hard.

He almost dropped you from the shock of it all, but he finally recovered with a loud laugh.

''Ugh! You weren't supposed to like that!''

Charles took a breath to collect himself.

''I hate you so mu--.'' Your sentence was cut by Charles dropping you on the soft surface of the bed.

The corners of his mouth lifted at the sight of you like that.

''I do find your wicked statements entertaining.'' Leaving you alone to make yourself comfortable, he went in the opposite direction of the bed and pulled the blankets to make enough room for his body.

When you turned around, you saw him already drowned in the mattress while facing you.

''I still need those deep conversations before sleeping.'' You said and his pupils were swollen.

''What do you want to talk about, Sunshine?'' Charles questioned and his dimples were charmingly placed on his reddened cheeks. You extended your hand to reach for the light switch and turned it off.

Sharing beds as kids never grew to something more than a platonic activity both of you really enjoyed. It had to be kept that way. You two couldn't ruin your unique friendship. He knew that too, even though the look in his eyes declared something... something entirely different.

''You look beautiful even in the dark, (y/n).'' His voice was husky, he blood immediately frozing in you.

''Charles, are you flirting with me?'' His eyes moved to your lips for a brief moment and he hoped, he really hoped, you didn't notice it, but you did. And things initiated to complicate in your mind.

''You finally noticed?'' He murmured as if he didn't want anybody else to hear his thoughts. ''You're pretty much the only reason I turn on my phone in the morning, hoping for a message or a call, (y/n).''

''Charles, I can't, we are--I--''

''Shh--'' He silenced you by bringing his hand gently to cover a part of your lips. ''(y/n), I think I have fallen in love with you.''

Your mind stopped working. ''Then k-kiss me.'' Your response was somehow hesitant.

''The problem is,'' He said as he leaned in. ''If I kiss you, I don't think I'll be able to stop.''

''Who says I'd want you to stop?'' His gaze was penetrating, as if he tried to read your soul, your thoughts, the feelings you kept well-hidden...

He leaned in more, so carefully, hearts beating between you two. He was so close, so close and you weren't able to feel your wobbly legs anymore. You couldn't feel your fingers or the cold or the rain outside because all you could feel was him.

Charles connected his lips with yours. His hands found their way around your cheeks and moved closer just to sense you press against his chest.

He tasted like sugary chocolate and the sweetness made your heart explode.

Your hands were instantly in his hair, pulling him even closer, filling the gap to expore his mouth with your tongue as the raindrops echoed on the windows. Charles groaned between your lips.

He pulled away to whisper. ''I've been waiting so many years to do this, (y/n).'' Charles' eyes glistened and he thought about all those times he let himself picture you two like this to ease his mood. ''Come with me to Monaco. Please, (y/n), you're all I need.'' Charles pleaded and you could understand how much he meant his words. He craved you there. With him. In every race. He was not willing to make memories without you by his side anymore.

You smiled. ''As long as you let me re-decorate your house there. Damn, it looked terrible from the photos.''

His voice was so low. He was going to be the death of you. ''Our house, baby.'' Charles corrected you and placed a kiss on your forehead. ''Our house.''

Leaning forward, he touched his lips to yours. He kissed you and forgot to breathe. It didn't seem significant to him at the time.

You were all he ever needed. All he would ever want. And you were his now. Solely, exclusively his.

[wingsofanillyrian]

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 1

ITS HERE! I plan on updating this weekly/biweekly, based on how busy I am. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list! 

Special thank you to my new F1 friend for inspiring this fic as well as being my beta reader, @acourtofcouture​ ! F1 fans out there, her fics are AMAZING

Chapter Masterlist

F1 Glossary

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

Nesta Archeron discovered Formula 1 when she was 9 years old. She woke before the sun one Sunday morning, quietly excited to have the television all to herself and watch whatever cartoons she wanted. But she couldn’t remember what channel they were on, instead flipping through the programs. She had almost given up when she stumbled across a race.

The moment she had seen the brightly colored open-wheeled cars flash across the screen, she paused. For whatever reason, the high pitched wasp-like scream of the twelve cylinder engines and the astonishing speed that the drivers were travelling enthralled young Nesta. She didn’t look away once for the rest of the race, or even for the post-race interviews and wrap up that most adults skipped. Something about it had her adrenaline pumping.

Nesta traded her dolls for matchbox cars, and when she grew older, picked up racing magazines instead of teen ones. Ever since that day, Formula 1 consumed her. No matter how the other kids or her two younger sisters teased her for it, her love for the sport never tarnished. 

She spent years getting up at 2 am to watch live races that were being held halfway around the world. Instead of going to her senior prom, Nesta stayed home and layed out her predictions for the season’s drivers and constructors championships. She didn’t know how to do anything half-ass. She poured her whole heart into the sport and devoted her life to it.

**********

Nesta spent her 24th birthday working. It wasn’t like she could request the day off, not that it mattered. The racetrack at Monaco was exactly where she would have been anyway, working or not.

A press pass got her through the first security checkpoint. The team tents loomed ahead as she waited for personnel to cross the unstriped asphalt, inching her car carefully through the throngs of people. She rolled her window down, soaking in the sound of air tools and snippets of conversations. 

Street tracks like Monaco were her favorite. They required drivers to push themselves with plenty of technical corners and dramatic incidents. There was less room for error, as the tracks themselves were not as wide. Drivers had to know their limits and follow the racing line closely.

Race tracks were Nesta’s comfort zone. She knew each track on the calendar like the back of her hand. Every turn was permanently etched in her mind like words on a tombstone. Race weekends followed a set schedule, something that she could appreciate. Friday: practice laps. Saturday: more practice, followed by qualifying, where each driver got the chance to set the fastest lap and secure a spot in the starting line up for the main event on Sunday.

Before she had graduated college, Nesta had managed to fully entrench herself in the world of Formula 1. Securing an internship at ESPN her sophomore year, she had made herself indispensable to the crusty old man that had been the senior track side reporter for decades. She studied everything he did and the questions he asked each driver, noting what changes she would have made. Somehow, he came to admire her spirit and taught her the tricks of the trade.

When he retired the year after Nesta graduated, he went to the board of directors and personally recommended her to fill his spot. She waited two agonizing days for their decision. 

Using whatever means necessary, Nesta had clawed her way to the top and cemented her reputation as the most cutthroat reporter in the industry. Her goal had been for everyone in motorsport to know her name, and in only two years, she had done so. Better yet, she had caught the eye of one of the fastest drivers on the grid.

Her phone rang just as she pulled into the press parking area. She answered, not bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

Tomas’ velvety voice thundered through the speakers of her Civic. “Hey baby. You here yet?”

“Just pulled in,” She replied, touching up her makeup in the rearview. 

“Right on time for a quickie. Meet me at my trailer in five.”

Tomas had already hung up before she had the chance to protest. Both their reputations hinged on their relationship staying secret. If the press caught wind that she was fucking a driver, her credibility would go out the window, and Tomas would be the laughing stock of the grid. So sneaking into his trailer wasn’t exactly the type of discreet she was aiming for.

Tomas Mandray had been racing for Red Bull for two years when she had scored her first exclusive interview with him. He had just been awarded pole position at the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, and Nesta had sweet talked her way into the paddock. It had taken minutes for his charming blue eyes to enchant her. He had won that race, and taken her to bed straight after. 

The sex was great, but that’s all it ever was. Their relationship was purely based on the physical; nothing emotional on either end. They had agreed on that from the start. Just sex.

Unfortunately for Nesta, somewhere along the way it had become something more.

Sighing, she put on her oversized sunglasses and hid her tawny hair under a gauzy scarf. The fashion wouldn’t stand out at all amongst the celebrities that frequented the Monaco Grand Prix. Going over the top here was expected; Monaco was known for its money. Due to the lack of income tax, Monaco was a haven for white collar delinquents and royalty alike. Lamborghini’s and Ferrari’s were commonplace, and women wore rings that could set a jewel thief up for life. 

No one bothered her as she strode towards the pit checkpoint, flashing her press badge to get by. She fell into her usual cadence, exuding an air of importance and invincibility. Seemingly without realizing, people moved out of her way when they saw her coming. The navy, red, and yellow of the Redbull tent came into view, and Nesta inserted herself into the crowd of mechanics and VIPs to get past security. Press wasn’t allowed in the area until after the race.

Nesta broke away once inside, heading down a back corridor. She knew the layout by heart, having walked the path many times. The door at the end of the hall led outside to Tomas’ private trailer. She didn’t bother to knock before entering. Tomas would already be waiting for her.

He set down his phone as she entered. “Finally,” He said with a savage grin. “We only have a few minutes.”

****************

Tomas left as soon as he finished, donning his jumpsuit without so much as a kiss goodbye. Utterly used to the behavior, Nesta straightened her clothes and again touched up her makeup before heading back out.

She was scheduled to conduct a pre-race interview with Cassian Valle in the Mercedes tent in twenty minutes. Redbull and Mercedes were at opposite ends of the pit, giving her plenty of time to think.

Truthfully, Nesta was dreading the interaction. Cassian was an arrogant ass. She couldn’t stand interviewing him; all he did was skirt around questions and try to flirt, which made it incredibly difficult to get any headline-worthy tidbits from him.

Azriel Sainz, Cassian’s teammate at Mercedes, was much more amiable. He was mostly forgettable and quiet, but always gave her something to work with and was sometimes downright pleasant to talk to. She could understand why the public loved him, but not why they were so enamored with Cassian. Sure, he was a three time world champion, and that earned him plenty of fans, but he was just so… dreadful.

She made it to the Mercedes pit just minutes before the scheduled time, immediately spotting her tense cameraman, Jacob. Slim built, he was average looking, nothing special. He was sweet though, if not a bit of a pushover.

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed, chocolate brown eyes wide. “Valle is waiting.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, handing Jacob her sunglasses and the scarf. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Not my fault if he was early.” Nesta accepted her microphone and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Happy birthday by the way,” Jacob added. Yes, there was the pushover side shining through. 

Nesta threw a grin at him over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

Cassian’s back was to her as she approached, his white Mercedes jumpsuit half on, the arms of it cinched around his waist. The crisp gray shirt he wore left little to the imagination, hugging his sculpted form. Good; at least that would capture the attention of any women that might be watching. As would the deep brown curl that fell in his face when he turned to her.

“If it isn’t my very favorite reporter,” He crooned, a grin plastered on his face. “Took you long enough to get here. I also hear it’s your birthday.” Nesta glared at Jacob. He shrank under her steely look, an apology stumbling from his lips.

“I would give you a birthday kiss, but I think you’d knock me out if I offered.”

Nesta pointedly ignored him, “Let’s just get on with it,” She said, motioning to Jacob to start recording. Once he signaled he was ready, Nesta breathed deep, the sweet scent of high octane fuel assaulting her senses. It steadied her, and she slipped into her professional mask before turning to the camera.

“As we all know, the Monaco Grand Prix offers drivers a unique set of challenges. The two-mile street course has 19 technical corners with little room for error. It is in Monaco that we get to see who has what it takes to be a Formula 1 champion.” She turned to Cassian, gave him a professional smile and continued.

“Last year, you had a puncture at turn seven when you ran over some debris. Coupled with the fumble the pit crew had with not having your tires ready when you came into the pit, you finished a disappointing 12th place, winning you no points in the driver’s championship. Do you expect that this year will be better, or will you stick to your usual aggressive driving style?”

Cassian laughed, running a hand through his unbound curls. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be changing anything. You can expect to see me on the podium, sweetheart. Most likely in first.”

Nesta grit her teeth. She couldn’t air that, and he knew it. “How about you answer the question without trying to piss me off?”

“It’s too easy,” Cassian said, that devilish grin returning. Nesta cut him a glare that simmered with violence. “Alright fine,” He relented, putting his hands up. “Go again.”

She repeated her question, and this time he answered, “I don’t really see any need to change my driving style, what happened last year was a fluke. I went wide on the turn and didn’t notice Vanserra's front wing until the last second and wasn’t able to change course.” Nesta nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I don't see myself making any mistakes like that this year. You can expect to see me on the podium, most likely in first.”

“Thank you for that Cassian. Good luck on the track today.”

“Thank you,” He said, waving at the camera. He paused before adding, “Though I won’t need luck.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and signaled for Jacob to cut the recording. At least that last bit could be edited out. “You are absolutely insufferable, you know that?”

Cassian shrugged, undoing the arms of his fire suit and slipping into them. “I do my best.” He winked at her before zipping up his suit, opening his mouth to say something else when the Mercedes team principal, Rhysand, barked at him to get his ass in gear. He gave Nesta a wordless salute before jogging off.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jacob said, packing up his camera. “That guy has balls.”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver,” Nesta said simply, putting her sunglasses back on. “Of course he does.”

**********

Nesta watched the 78 lap race from the press box, silently cheering Tomas on. Each time the pack of cars passed, the windows rattled, doing little to muffle the engine noise. She chatted with the others as necessary, keeping one eye on the tarmac below. Tomas had started from pole position, and held onto first place until the final 10 laps. He had attempted to lap an AlphaTauri driver when the driver had failed to yield, violating FIA regulations. The two had bumped tires in what was ruled a racing incident, but Nesta knew better. Tomas had lost his cool and nudged the other driver on purpose, nearly sending him into the wall. 

It was a bad call on Tomas’ part, as the comfortable four second lead he had held over second place shattered. Nesta swore under her breath as Cassian overtook Tomas, her heart dropping when the other Mercedes driver, Azriel, did the same. Tomas would not be happy about that. 

When the checkered flag waved, Cassian was first, Azriel second, and Tomas third.  The winners parked before the podium, anger radiating from Tomas as he tore his helmet off. Tamlin, the Redbull team principal, said something to Tomas that had his cheeks burning red. 

Nesta grabbed Jacob and headed for the press room. They had a half hour tops before the post-race interviews started, and Nesta had to make sure she was front row. Though it didn’t matter where she sat; she always made sure her questions were answered.

It was more so for Tomas. She wanted him to see her, to see the understanding on her face and know she supported him even when he didn't win.

They were first to the press room, and Nesta had ample time to prepare questions. She couldn’t question Tomas, or she risked uncapping his rage. Instead, she jotted down a question she knew would shift the focus from Tomas to the Mercedes drivers.

Reporters began filing in, vying for the perfect spot and debating the race results with one another. Nesta remained in her seat, determined to maintain her composure as her stomach churned. Tomas finally entered, jaw set as he took his place on the stage. Nesta tried to subtly catch his eye, but he pointedly avoided looking at her. 

Cassian and Azriel entered, laughing and congratulating each other. Nesta noted the slight change in Tomas’ posture, the only hint of the blood boiling beneath his skin. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted, but still Nesta remained seated. Cassian, at least, sought her out in the crowd, and flashed her an ‘I-told-you-so’ grin when he found her. Once the clamor had died down, Nesta stood. The room quieted further, the others having learned not to talk over her if they valued their jobs. Nesta had a knack for digging up dirt on anyone she pleased.

Her eyes were still locked on Cassian as the moderator indicated she could ask her question. 

“Azriel,” She started, turning to the dark haired man, “You were lucky you were able to take second in this race, after the incident in turn twelve on lap 27 when you sustained heavy damage to your front wing, thanks to the actions of your teammate. Does it ever get under your skin that Valle’s overly-aggressive driving threatens your own position in the championship?”

The room was silent. Tomas hid his grin behind a well-manicured hand. Cassian’s eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. Good; she had hit a nerve. Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“It was a racing incident. Could have happened to anyone. I don’t think the blame lays entirely with Cassian; I could have given him more room on the corner.”

And that was that. Nesta didn’t ask any more questions, but she could feel Cassian glaring at her throughout. At the end of the interview, all three drivers thanked everyone before leaving.

As Nesta made her way back to her car, she texted Tomas.

You okay?

Her heart pounded as she waited for the reply. Her phone buzzed minutes later.

I’ll be home late. Party at the Redbull house.

Oh. Okay. See you later then.

“Happy birthday to me,” She muttered, stuffing the phone in her pocket.

Nesta wasn’t sure why his reply stung, but it cut deep. She had hoped that he would want to see her instead of going to another party and spend time with her on her birthday. Instead, he would probably stick his tongue down another woman’s throat like usual. She couldn’t really blame him. Their relationship had to remain secret and to do so, Tomas had to maintain his playboy aura. It wasn’t really cheating if she had agreed to it.

But if that were true, why did it hurt so fucking bad when he did?

Some of her tension eased when she finally spied her car in the lot. The Blue Bullet, she had nicknamed it, due to the strikingly bright paint. It was the first purchase she had made upon being promoted, and it had since become her pride and joy. She had chosen it because it set lap records left and right when it had hit the market a few years back, and she had craved speed her whole life. On city streets, this car was the closest she could get to experiencing Formula 1 without completely breaking the bank.

“How about you don’t ask stupid fucking questions next time your prettyboy loses?”

Nesta’s breath hitched. Your prettyboy. The accusation was clear. Her hand slipped from the door handle, turning towards the voice. If he knew… If he knew about her and Tomas, they were done for. She willed her voice into solid steel.

“Cassian. I would advise you to choose your next words wisely.”

He placed a hand on her Civic, getting in her face. “Racing means you have racing incidents. I don’t expect you to understand, seeing as you’ve never been behind the wheel of a real race car.” He sneered at her car, the insult striking home.

Fear faded, replaced by a rising wave of scarlett rage. Nesta’s gaze stuck to where his hand lay on the bright blue paint, utterly vexed by the infringement. She bared her teeth at him, rising to the challenge in Cassian’s flaming hazel eyes. 

“Get. Off.”

Cassian started at the command in her tone and obeyed. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Understanding the nuances of Formula 1 is my job description. I asked about that incident because I knew it would piss you off. Looks like I was right huh?” Her temper was getting the better of her. “And by the way, would it kill you to give me a decent quote once in a while, instead of always trying to get in my pants?”

“I do not-”

“Oh go fuck yourself,” Nesta scoffed, yanking the door open. 

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as she slammed the car door. “I was already planning on it.”

Those parting words haunted her drive home, even as she took the long way in hopes of blowing off steam. She shifted through the gears, throwing the Civic around corners much faster than was probably safe. Nesta didn’t care; her head was a mess. At least he hadn’t mentioned anything more about Tomas. Maybe Cassian had just thought she had a crush, based on the way she had been looking at him during the conference. Gods, she couldn’t get Cassian out of her head. 

His grin followed her up the stairs to her apartment, where she snapped the curtains shut. She couldn’t bear to look out over the track any longer today. 

Those words echoed in her head as she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed alone. Swam through her thoughts of Tomas, as she struggled to keep her eyes open when the clock showed 1 am. As she finally gave in, they were her last thought. 

I was already planning on it. 

@aphoeni @planet-faerie  @nina-zcnik @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland--memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @illyrianshadowhunter​ 

[iamdorka]

„Could I please request a 'Dating ______ would include:' bullet point headcanon for Colson, Dom and Pete respectively? I love your writing; thank you 🖤”

So here I thought about 5 random scenarios (while dating of course) and how each of them would react/behave in that case, so basically I put my own spin on this request. Hope you will like it. But I have to add that your request made me think about this type of writing, so maybe in the future I will bring you some extra writing too.

- taking couple selfies

Colson: Colson would be the type who says that he hates taking photos, but actually he loves it, especially the couple selfies, because he adores you and when you are taking a selfie of both of you and the picture turns out great, your smile is the cutest thing on Earth, he says. Of course usually it doesn’t turn out great for the first couple of times and after the 500th attempt he gets bored and starts to make fun of you, but you are always quite determined so you keep going and when there is a great photo he actually gets more in love with you, every fucking time.

Dom: Dom would love taking pictures with you. Yeah, you are an addict but he is your partner in crime in that too. Like his mind is just as crazy as yours and if something involves the two of you, that’s 100% sure that there will be photo evidence of that, probably posing like the most idiot, badass couple in the town. Your camera roll may have a few(!!!) selfies of yourself, but maybe there are even more couple selfies.

Pete: Okay… but Pete would be the absolute worst in this scenario. Like when you would take out your phone, he would be actually scared because he hates seeing himself on photos and first you didn’t really understand this and for you it was hard to accept it, as you are a photo addict, but after some time you got it. So when he was willing to join in your craziness, it was something special, you knew that and you really appreciated that. One of the cutest thing was when he returned to Instagram, after a quite long period, the first pic he posted was one of your couple selfies.

- taking care of him when he is sick

Colson: He is the worst sick person ever, like you know that if boys are sick they tend to overdramatize it but oh boy… what he usually does in the case is next level. Your friends get to used to the hangover Colson (which is also some extreme shit) but the sick Colson is even worst. Yeah… that could happen. You thank God that his immune system is quite strong, even after all those shit that he has consumed, but when he somehow gets sick you try your best the cure him because you have your limits too and sick Colson can get you closer to them very easily.

Dom: Doesn’t matter how old he is, he usually acts like a child, like in the sweetest way, especially when he is around you. So it isn’t a surprise after all that when he is sick… he turns into a child even more. He doesn’t really understand that you have to keep your distance even if you are the one taking care of him, because his neediness becomes quite strong and he is able to throw tantrums if he doesn’t get you near him. About getting the medicines in him… you wouldn’t even want to start talking, because that’s always an interesting challenge.

Pete: Pete is a quite sick, like is he has some aching parts he doesn’t even tell you about it, you usually figure it out on your own because you see something slightly has changed in his usual behavior. Of course you immediately begin to act like his nurse because you don’t like knowing that he is suffering and he does exactly everything what you ask him to do. He is the best patient ever, if you can say so, also he likes this special attention but he would never admit this to you.

- celebrating your birthday with him for the first time

Colson: Getting together with him was a quite a wild ride, and being with him pushed you out of your comfort zone in so many scenarios, so when your birthday finally arrived you weren’t even surprised that the little party which he threw you turned into the biggest house party he threw in a while and this is a big thing, because when they throw a party it’s big… but this was 10 times bigger. And everybody got the chance to get to know you, like he is the king of the gang… and that day you became his forever queen. Everybody knew, even before, that they can’s mess with you, but after this it was obvious that you are his ride and die. His girl.

Dom: The thing is he was probably even more excited about your birthday than you were, which is a pretty big thing because damn you love your birthday, it’s your own national holiday and it was quite weird for you to share this excitement with somebody else but the enthusiasm of his was so adorable. He planned a whole music festival themed birthday party for you in his garden because he knew how much you live for those events. He even spoke to some of your favorite artists and with them he made a special birthday video just for you which when appeared on the big screen made you cry like never before. He just couldn’t understand how lucky a girl you are with him by your side.

Pete: Pete likes to stay in, smoke and just eating junk food and usually you are his partner in that, but for your birthday you just wanted to do something that you don’t usually do and that’s when Pete told you that he has everything in control, you just have to follow his instructions. That’s how he took you out for a fancy sushi restaurant which was actually the best thing because damn you ate everything up there and he was so happy that he could make you this happy. And the fact that he decided to took you out, and he enjoyed it too, he who prefers to stay in 24/7 was your biggest birthday present ever, like you knew this, between you two was something really special.

- getting up to catch an early flight to the other side of the country

Colson: Even after being with him for months you still couldn’t understand how he can function with that little sleep hours he got, so when he knew that he has to be up really early he decided not even go to bed, which for him was normal, but you just didn’t want to do as him and tried to convince him to go to bed with you, sleep a bit because sleeping on a plane is never the best option but he was quite stubborn…. but you had your ways and after some time you won. That’s why after like 3 hours sleeping waking up was the cruelest thing to do but you suffered together… as always. Of course you would never admitted that those 3 hour sleep just worsened the situation and without it everything would have been better but that’s just your stubbornness which he loved.

Dom: If he sleeps 6 hours, he has way more energy than necessary, if he sleeps 8 hours or more… he has even more energy, this guy is like he is always on some kind of drug without taking it actually, so when you had to be up at 4am he somehow woke up before you and when your alarm went off you woke up for a big cup of coffee and a cute breakfast. You couldn’t even open your eyes properly but he was almost out of your apartment already.

Pete: Coming off from some mushrooms when you had to leave for the airport wasn’t your best timing ever to be honest. But at least you didn’t suffer as much as you would have otherwise. Pete has some unique ideas to soften the situations and getting high almost everytime was involved in those solutions but this time you couldn’t really decide if you regretted it or not. When time is literally an illusion for you getting somewhere in time was a quite big challenge so when you woke up on the plane, on the right plane, on your chest of your boyfriend you were quite proud of yourself.

- him cheering you up when you had a fucked up day

Colson: He knew that when you are pissed off, tired there are two options: he needs to keep his distance and give you some time to cool off first alone or be by your side and doesn’t leave your side, not for a minute. These options usually ended up in some angry making out sessions, with heavy touching, not saying a word but there were times when he just mixed everything together… he knew you well. He knew exactly when he shouldn’t even open his mouth because he just could worsen the situation… that’s when usually he turned to music. Without even saying a word, just mumbleing to his live piano playing, letting to fill the house with his ryhtm you tried to reach you… and it worked even when it didn’t.

Dom: When you needed a good laugh… you could count on your boyfriend because sure he is some funny guy, so when you hava a long day and all you wanna do is just… not to exist you are really grateful that you go home to a place where he is there. Some light hearted comedy or stand up, letting him order some food and watching him impersonating the comedians was the highlight of those days. He knows that he is funny and to be able to make your messed up day just a little bit better he would be willing to do anything, literally and figuratevly…. because when his other half is in pain, he is in too.

Pete: Staying at home, like an old couple was your go to date option, like always. But when you arrive home saying that you will never ever not even consider leaving the house because you hate everything and everybody and you stay with that idea for quite sometime he starts to worry. And when you just can’t do anything right because you break everything, everything slips out of your hand he just carefully goes to you, hugs you and takes control over everything, even your body. He leads you to the nearest bar chair in the kitchen, sits you down and makes you a sandwich and cup of your favorite tea… and doesn’t say a word, he waits until you want to talk about it. These little things are the ones what make you love him more and more everyday. Nothing big, nothing special, just simple things.

Tag list (write me if you wanna be on it❤)

@echelonwonderland @no-shxt-sherl @kissedbystrangerswaterbottle @bakerkells @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @mgk-rooklover1997 @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @southernmgkpunk @thegunnerkelly @findingmyths @painkillerash @rosesinmars @rosegoldrichie @pinksocktingz @itjustkindahappenedreally @cclynn88 @bluehairedtracii @rumoured-whispers @estxxbritt

[futarinokinenbi]

From TV Life 2020/12/25:

TL: While looking back at 2020, please determine an award for each member. Sakurai-san in 2017, 2018, and 2019 won the award for appearing on Nippon Television the most. For getting the award for three consecutive years, he's been included in the hall of fame.

S: I'm included in the hall of fame? Thank you very much.

M: In that case, let's give him a new award this year!

A: Ah, protein?

M: "Consumed Protein Award."

S: Ahahaha! (laughs)

A: Between us members, he consumed it the most.

M: Tofu or natto for example.

O: When Sho-chan eats natto, he stirs it a lot.

S: It's fun! (laughs)

M: Then, once again, congratulations for receiving "Consumed Protein Award."

S: I’m thankful.

M: Please give a comment for receiving the award!

N: Since this is the first in Japan.

S: Between the many awards available, this is the one I was aiming for the most (laughs).

O: Fufu… that’s great (laughs).

TL: Next up is Ninomiya-san. In 2019, he ate cereals and did a lot of exercise, so he received “Health Oriented Award.”

N: I haven’t been exercising much lately.

M: In that case, what should we go for? I see him wearing jerseys and sandals often, but…

A: After work, he doesn’t go to the green room and goes straight home, huh. Lately, when I notice it, he’s no longer there (laughs).

M: Ah, that’s right!

N: In that case, “When I Notice It, He’s Not There Award” (laughs).

A: That’s right (laughs).

S: Sexy Zone were also surprised, right. After the live broadcast of Music Station, they went to the green room to greet us.

N: That time, Leader was also not in the green room, right?

O: I also went home at the same time as Nino.

S: Ohno-san also wasn’t there? (Laughs) So, I told Sexy Zone, “He's no longer here.” They were surprised, “Eh?!”

A: Nino also went home without returning to the green room after recording Arashi ni Shiyagare, right?

N: I didn’t return.

M: He changes his clothes in the anteroom in front of the studio and goes home just like that.

S: VS Arashi too, right?

N: That’s right (laughs).

S: Also, during concerts, he’s quick to go on standby. He’s already done two and half hours before the concert starts.

A: He’s hasty, right? (Laughs).

S: That's right. Then, "Hasty Award?" (Laughs)

N: Is that okay to give it to me? I thought that award should be for Aiba-san.

A: No, I'm already different. For 2020, Nino is...

O: "Hasty Award." (Laughs)

S: It's your first time receiving it, right!

N: Yay~ I'm happy! Thank you very much! (Laughs)

TL: Then, next up is Matsumoto-san. For 2019, instead of an award, we went with Sakurai-san's suggestion "Matsumoto Obtained a New Drill!" (a tool for stretching in a drill form) Afterwards, because he gave out the drill to the members, he received the award “Matsumoto Gave Out New Drills” at the same time.

M: Fufu (laughs).

A: He gave out the new drills to us, right.

S: Thanks to that, I felt great. During the live broadcast of The Music Day, for example, I put it into real use and it really helped me.

M: That's right, you used it. After that, I still haven't received any new drill.

S: I got it, 2020 Matsujun should be, "Matsumoto Obtained a New Projector!" no?

M: Ahahaha! (Laughs)

N: "Obtained a High-Definition Projector!" right? (Laughs)

S: It was long awaited, right! Lately, he's always mentioning it.

N: Since he's mentioning it so much, I think it's a good one, definitely.

O: That's right.

N: In other words...

A: Movie theater level?

S: Since if it's just a normal projector, there's one in Matsujun's house, so we haven't got the opportunity to see this one, right? If there's a chance I'm planning to go there, though.

M: That's completely alright, go ahead.

A: I also wanna see it.

M: Please come whenever (laughs).

TL: You gave out drills to members, but as expected a projector is...?

M: That's true.

S: I was waiting for it, though!

M: No, no, because I think there are people who will be troubled if they receive a projector... (Laughs)

N: In that case, for the sake of seeing the projector we have to go to Matsumoto House, right.

S: I'll go!

A: I'll go.

O: Yep.

S: I'll go with the pretext of being shown the projector (laughs).

M: Understood (laughs). Then I'll prepare good materials {as in videos, pictures etc}.

TL: Then it's Aiba-san's award. The award for 2019 is “Often Got an Undercut Award”

A: Undercut is… I also have it from time to time this year (laughs).

S: As I thought, 2020 Aiba-kun is TikTok, no?

N: That’s right. Certainly, the impression of TikTok is strong, right.

A: I had everyone’s cooperation.

S: As such, “Funny Video Grand Prize!”

N: You received a grand prize!

M: Congratulations!

A: Is it alright to have the grand prize? (Laughs) Thank you very much.

S: Aiba-kun is amazing, really. He did a simulation with the managers before we took the video.

A: I had the managers act as Arashi members. To check if we really can shoot the video with the members.

S: Thanks to that, we were able to see a different face of our managers compared to the one we usually see (laughs).

A: Even between our managers, there are people who have unexpected talents.

M: There are people like that. If we didn’t have this chance, there would be a lot of things we don’t know, I think.

O: That’s right.

S: We were uncovering the managers’ true faces (laughs).

M: Yep. They looked like they were having fun, too.

N: They had good expressions.

A: They really seemed like they were having fun doing the simulation.

S: In that sense, compared to most people's impression about a manager’s range of duties, Arashi’s managers’ are so much broader (laughs).

N: I think it’s tough.

M: They’re doing various things.

O: The range of work is broadening.

M: Aiba-kun’s manager’s range of work also broadened.

N: As expected of chief manager! Aiba-kun is “Chief Manager Award.”

A: That’s right. I was chief manager, right (laughs).

N: That’s right!

S: Specially for videos… right? (laughs)

N: “Chief Manager Specially for Videos Award” (laughs).

S: This is a good award, huh.

A: Thank you very much (laughs).

TL: For the last one, Ohno-san. In 2019, for owning a variety of rucksacks, from a water resistant type that's fully covered in plastic to fashionable ones, he received the "The Range of Rucksack is Broad Award."

A: I see (laughs).

S: What should be the 2020 award…

A: Leader lately is…

S: He obtained the strongest item that can become both sandals and shoes, and he’s been wearing it.

O: Yes, that thing that can become both of them.

S: That, you first took it out yesterday?

O: Yep, I started wearing it yesterday.

M: To begin with, did you wear anything other than sandals in 2020?

O: I did.

M: As expected you did, huh (laughs).

S: For In the Summer choreography on Music Station, you danced a lot, right? So the manager told him, “Please bring sneakers.” That time, it’s the first after a while since the last time you wore shoes, right?

O: That’s right, it’s been a while.

S: So he said something like, “I’ve been dancing in sandals so much, so conversely shoes make me uneasy.” And then…

O: I got blisters from the shoes.

N: I also understand that one. Because you don’t wear shoes at all normally, you get blisters when you do, right?

O: Yep, I got blisters and they were very painful. I can dance better in sandals that I’m already used to.

A: So there’s such a thing, huh (laughs).

N: In that case, shall we go with “He Can No Longer Wear Shoes, right (award)?” (Laughs)

O: I can no longer wear them (laughs).

S: That’s new so it’s good (laughs). In that sense, the strongest item that he’s been wearing since yesterday, I think it’s really amazing.

O: From slippers, it can also be worn as something like sandals. When I’m dancing, if I cover it completely, it also becomes shoes. In addition, because the fabric inside is fluffy, it’s just right for cold seasons.

N: It’s like something to wear in a tent, correct?

O: That’s right.

M: Is that so~ I haven’t seen it.

O: I will show it to you after this.

[ororowrites]

Stripped -  (Yahya x Black OC)

Sweet Thang Series - Chapter 2

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,735

One-Shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1

By the end of the first song, Candace was in her comfort zone. Yahya never let his eyes leave her and she no longer felt shy. The club had rules about no touching but Candace suddenly wanted this man’s hands all over her. Those long fingers and smooth brown skin were doing things to her. Maybe it was the liquor making her horny over a man she didn’t even know. 

Little did Candace know, Yahya had thoughts racing in his mind too. He couldn’t stop thinking about her petite body under his or how her lips would feel on him. Candace was a beautiful woman and something about her intrigued Yahya. When she straddled his legs and began to grind on his lap, the urge to touch her grew. The scent of her perfume was as intoxicating as her hips, almost putting a spell on him. 

It must have been the alcohol that gave Candace the courage to make her next move. She could feel his breath on her lips before they were interrupted by the dance timer. The euphoria they had experienced quickly disappeared as they fell back to Earth. 

“Shit, sorry,” Candace apologized, swinging her legs to the floor. Yahya became any other customer and she held her hand out to collect her payment. “Thank you. You enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Yahya opened his mouth but Candace was already heading out the door, stuffing the bills in her bra. 

-------

Well into the next morning, Yahya was still thinking about the mystery girl from the club. He’d been to many strip clubs and never felt a connection with any of the ladies he encountered. Something about her grabbed him and sucked him in and had her on his mind hours later. 

“You still stuck on that hoe from the club.” Damon lit his blunt and relaxed his head against the back of the sofa. “Nigga, we ain’t taking you to the club again.”

“Word on the street is that the shawties at Dynasty have golden pussy or some shit,” his brother added with a drug induced chuckle. 

“Respect the ladies, man. Being a stripper doesn’t make them hoes. And Kevin that’s enough kush for you. Golden pussy? Really,” Yahya snatched the blunt from his friend and put it back in the ashtray. 

“Aight, let me respect the skrippas. But still, you don’t know her. What if she’s crazy? You will be going back home tomorrow night and no tellin’ when you’re coming back to LA, so why does it matter,” Damon explained. 

“Both of ya’ll are some fucking haters. Trash asses.” Yahya grabbed his phone and took his troubles to the balcony. Kevin and Damon were great friends but their childish, misogynistic antics got on his nerves when he was around them. At times, he felt like he was outgrowing them, even though he still considered them brothers he never had. While he was looking to settle down sooner rather than later, they were stuck in the same phase they were in throughout high school and college and it appeared to be a never ending cycle. 

Was it ridiculous to think that the stripper he met at the club was the one? Yep. But, that didn’t keep Yahya from wishing he could see her again before he was back to the reality of being jobless. 

-------

“Are you sure you saw him with her?” The very question had Candace’s heart pounding against her chest. Natalie, Maxwell’s ex-girlfriend, had entered the picture again after Candace thought her dropping out of school was the blessing they needed. Now with her back in California via North Carolina, she had access to Maxwell as did he to her. 

“Sis, would I lie to you? I saw that bastard with her in the Commons. Took everything out of me not to run up on them and start whooping ass,” Trinity said, fuming on her sister’s behalf. Truth be told, she never liked Maxwell and knew the type of guy he was from the beginning. Maxwell was charming and had the ability to make any girl weak in the knees. Especially a woman like her sister that was in love with being in love. 

Anger built from the pits of her stomach. Feelings of betrayal had never quite faded since they had made up and she ignored it in the name of love. “Did he see you?” 

“Nope. But I’ll make myself seen when it comes to my sister. Candy, why are you still trying to make things work with this immature, cheating ass, motherfucker? I try to hold my tongue like you ask but I refuse to hold it again. You’re too good for him.” When it came to family. Trinity was the sister that would physically fight for her siblings. At times, Candace admired her sister’s tenacity and wished she wasn’t as timid when it came to relationships with people. That was one negative trait that kept Candace anchored to people that did not deserve her time. 

“I honestly don’t know.” Tears began to form in Candace’s eyes as the shame set in for her. She knew Maxwell was no good for her but he always found a way back into her heart. “I’m...um...I’m going to talk to him.”

“Candace,” Trinity called out, noticing her sister’s emotions getting the best of her. “Please don’t cry over that man. Please.” 

If only Candace knew her worth. 

-------

Candace took the scenic route to Maxwell’s apartment, playing different scenarios in her head on the way. If she murdered him, where would she hide the body? Did she just hit him with questions or soften him up first? 

None of those scenarios played out once Candace reached her destination and was met by Natalie in the hall outside Maxwell’s apartment. The three of them froze, each of them searching for words to break up the awkward moment. 

“I should get going. I’ll call you when I get home,” Natalie mumbled, lowering her eyes and pushing past Candace. 

“I knew that apology was a lie and you were full of shit,” Candace spoke through clenched teeth. She was taught to never put her hands on anyone and it took a strong prayer to keep her fists at her sides. “What the hell is Natalie doing here and don’t even think about lying.” 

Maxwell didn’t even put up a fight. Besides, after the news he had learned, he didn’t have the energy to lie or smooth talk his way out of this one. 

“What was she doing here, Maxwell?”

“Natalie’s pregnant,” he replied, leaning against the wall across from Candace. He watched as his girlfriend’s face fell blank. “I fucked up and I’m sorry for that. You don’t deserve the shit I put you through.” 

Still lost for words, Candace slid down the wall until her rear hit the concrete floor. Pregnant. That had to be the final straw, right? The game they had been playing for the past three years had come to a tragic end that Candace feared. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I know I stay apologizing but I mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

Maxwell kept his distance. “Did what?” 

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, this would have stopped after the first incident. But I gave you chance after chance and you still didn’t fucking stop. I’m done, Max. I can’t put myself through this shit because it’s obvious you won’t stop. I’m foolish to even think you would,” Candace spoke in a hushed tone, never raising her voice or releasing the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I’m-”

“I don’t wanna hear another one of your tired excuses. I sure the hell hope your dick is clean. I’ll come back for my shit another day.” 

“Candy, come on-” 

“Move! Don’t fucking touch me.” Blood rushed to Candace’s face as the embarrassment set in and she could no longer look Maxwell in the eye. This relationship had become a part of her identity and she allowed it to consume her so much that she forgot to love herself. “We’re done, Maxwell.” 

Candace ignored the apologies and groveling. A weight lifted off her shoulders and she didn’t intend to put it back ever again. 

------

Yahya had one more day to enjoy Los Angeles before he had to return to San Francisco to figure out his next move. He was desperate to burn off steam and decided to hit the park for a workout. The skies were clear, granting Yahya  a good dose of vitamin D while he ran the steps. He pushed himself to do one more set before taking a lap around the trail for a cool down. Yahya was so focused, he didn’t notice Candace approaching him from the opposite sidewalk. 

“Hey...wassup,” he said, removing his headphones when he finally saw the brown beauty in his path. 

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d run into one of my customers...ever,” Candace chuckled nervously. The breakup had her emotions all over the place and gave her the bravado to approach a man from the club. Keeping those two lives separate  was important to her except in that moment. 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t want to think of myself as your customer. That’s a little weird,” Yahya admitted, earning a nod from Candace in agreement. “But since we’re outside of your job, can I get your real name?” 

“Candace.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Candace. I’m Yahya.”

A short, awkward moment of silence gave Candace time to get a better look at the man she had danced on in a dark strip club. Beautiful dark brown skin covered a body that looked like it was sculpted with the utmost care. If you looked up tall, dark and handsome in the dictionary, Yahya’s picture would be used as the definition. Once her eyes traveled back up to his face, his bright, white smile captured her and held on for dear life. The man was fine and seeing him in the light had Candace acting like a shy, school girl. 

“You live around here,” Candace asked, breaking the silence. 

“No, I’m visiting my boys from back home. I’m living in San Francisco right now. I go back tomorrow evening,” he explained, looking Candace over. She was petite compared to his 6′3 frame. “You?” 

“I’m from Chicago but moved here to go to school. Trying to live the dream, ya know?” 

“I hear that,” Yahya nodded. “Well Candace, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we ran into each other. Would you like to get a recovery smoothie with me? My treat. Unless you’re still in the middle of your workout.” 

“I can cut out early. I know a good smoothie spot not too far from here if you don’t mind walking.” 

Yahya’s smile grew, “Sounds like a plan, let me put on a shirt.” 

Or not, Candace thought to herself. 

--------

After the ice was broken, Candace and Yahya began to enjoy each other’s company. The break-up earlier that day was still on Candace’s mind, but she felt at ease being around Yahya. Sure, they didn’t know one another on a deep level, yet she could sense Yahya’s compassion. When she spoke, his eyes stayed on her and he truly listened. One thing that irked her about Maxwell was his inability to listen below the surface level. 

“That’s too bad. Many of these fellas out here don’t appreciate their lady until she’s gone.” Maxwell sounded like many men Yahya knew and the type of man his parents raised him not to be. He could see the hurt in Candace’s face when she described what had led up to the end of their relationship. 

“Yeah, it’s just a shame I wasted my time and my heart on a guy that didn’t want to protect it.”

“His loss, your win.” 

Dumping personal information on a stranger was not how Candace usually moved, nonetheless it felt good. “I’m sorry for treating you like a therapist.”

“Nah, you’re good. You had a rough day. I don’t mind listening.” 

“Thanks, but I wanna hear more about you. What do you do in expensive ass San Francisco,” Candace quizzed, sipping her raspberry/banana smoothie. 

Yahya hoped telling Candace about his unemployment wouldn’t ruin his chances. He still hadn’t shared the news with anyone else. “I was a City Planner for the Mayor’s office but I was laid off on Friday. I honestly don’t even know what the hell I’m going to do when I go back home.” 

One of Candace’s strongest traits was her empathy. She had no issue stepping into a person’s shoes and feeling what they felt. Those that were worthy enough to spend time with her felt Candace’s warmth right away. Yahya could feel it, which is why he felt comfortable sharing the news with her.

“I’m sorry, Yahya. Shit sucks when you get well into your career and your job is in another person’s hands,” Candace sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Are you thinking about staying there and getting another job?”

“To be honest, I need a change of scenery. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise because I think I got comfortable in my lifestyle. I loved my job but things were stagnant,” he explained, tracing the lettering on his smoothie cup. “Right now, I’m thinking about taking a break and figuring out what I want to do from there. I’ll get unemployment, so I’ll manage until I find another career that makes me happy.” 

“That’s brave of you. I’m too damn scary and would need to have a plan right away. Good luck with that. You seem to be a determined man so you’ll find your way. I’m hoping I can graduate and get into Yale then we will see if I make a career out of this acting thing. If not, I’ll go back to school for education and teach theatre.” 

“Wow, Yale? I did some acting classes back in the day and they seemed pretty cool. I don’t know if I have the talent to get into a school like Yale though. I need to work on my Denzel cry first.” The two shared a laugh and finished up their smoothies. 

Time passed as their conversation ranged from discussing their childhoods to recent life events. They were so deep into discussion, they didn’t notice that two hours had gone by since they first arrived at the smoothie shop. Candace was more easy going than Yahya thought. That shy exterior had fallen down, exposing the sweet and funny side of her. Like many women in the stripping industry, her persona in the club was a lot different from her true self. He wished he could get to know more of that side.

They walked back towards the park, where their cars were parked on a side street. Yahya walked Candace to her Jeep and waited for her to load the backseat with her duffle bag. 

“Thanks for the smoothie and talk. I needed that more than I thought,” Candace closed the back door and stood in front of the driver’s side door. “Dr. Yahya is a great listener, even though we’re complete strangers.” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I wasn’t kidding about taking some acting classes with you when I’m in town,” he replied, flashing his wide grin. 

“I’ll hold you to that Mr. Abdul-Mateen. Like I said, acting is like recess so it’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe you’re a natural at the shit.” 

“We’ll see, we’ll see. I won’t hold you up, you should probably get home before it gets too dark. Text me when you make it.” 

“Alright. Thanks again, Yahya. For real,” Candace’s soft curls blew over her face as the wind picked up. 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for listening to me ramble. Get home safely and don’t forget to let me know.” Yahya leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Candace’s cheek. The simple act almost made her melt into a puddle in the LA street. Opening her car door, Yahya waved her inside. “Bye, Candace.” 

“See you later.” 

Candace drove away feeling like a new chapter of her life was on the horizon and she was ready to face whatever it had in store. 

Taglist: @blackburnbook​ @just-peachee​ @emjayewrites​

Want a tag? Let me know. 

[plctitude]

* hailee steinfeld, cis woman + she/her  | you know juliet 'jet' rothschild, right? they’re 24, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, twelve years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to don't blame me by taylor swift like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole inability to sit properly, constantly tapping her fingers on any surface, never taking shots with chasers, thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

hello ! im gel and this is my little goon jet ! lmk if you wanna plot something

full name : juliet carter rothschild . preferred name / nickname : jet . age : twenty - four . birthday : march 15 . sexual orientation : lesbian . relationship status : single . occupation :  barista , musician , music producer . residence : delphinus heights .

history ––

juliet was born into a loving family in southern virginia , williamsburg to be exact . her family wasn’t loaded but they were comfortable enough that juliet could take guitar and piano and drum lessons and play sports and do basically whatever she wanted to try.

unfortunately for her parents , the drums were what really stuck with her . sure , she can still play the other instruments she learned growing up , but the drums were her safe space , her comfort .

nevertheless , they supported her because she was their little girl and as an only child , it was easy to spoil her . she loves her parents , wouldn’t trade them for anything in the whole world . because they were her whole world .

at 12 , her whole world came crashing down . she doesn’t remember much , if she’s being honest . all she really remembers was being pulled out of school and police officers telling her that her parents wouldn’t be back . they weren’t dead , as far as anyone knew , but they also weren’t anywhere to be found .

so her aunt offers to take her in , and juliet moves to irving . she starts going by jet , eager to leave behind the life she knew back in williamsburg . her aunt goes with it , doesn’t want to upset the 12 year old girl who just became an orphan . neither of them really talk about where her parents are , but they both hope they’re still out there , trying to make it back to her .

it takes a year or two but jet gets used to being in irving . it doesn’t just become her aunt’s town , it becomes hers . and the house in delphinus heights becomes her home , too. and when her aunt gets a girlfriend , who’s then a wife , jet is ecstatic . she loves seeing her aunt happy and in love .

at 15 , jet realizes she doesn’t like boys , she likes girls . she actually comes out to her aunt’s wife first – kind of an accident, really – , but everything goes smoothly and she’s never felt freer . at 16 , she meets a girl , a beautiful girl whose eyes rival the ocean , whose smile lights up her nights . and they fall in love , and it’s wonderful and deep and consuming and healing . but this is when jet learns all good things must come to an end . it’s when she’s running home , tears streaming down her face that she learns what heartbreak really feels like . it’s when she sits at her drum set , hole blown through the snare drum , cymbals crashing to the ground , that she realizes how close hate and love sit on a spectrum .

at 17 , she’s about to graduate and go to college when she changes her mind . she’s not going . her aunt’s not happy about it , but jet’s never really wanted anything but music anyway . so she gets a job , then another job , because ‘ if you’re going to stick around , you’re going to help pay the bills ’ . and it’s the beginning of something beautiful .

at 18, she starts producing her own music . it’s just some simple songs , but it’s a sign of progress nonetheless . she saves up money , uses what’s not for bills and rainy day savings to pay for a class . she learns everything she can about music production , music theory , recording , etc.

at 19, she joins a band , and it goes well until it doesn’t anymore . they’re getting gigs , they’re popular , but it’s breaking from the inside because everyone’s convinced they’re going to be the next big thing and their egos swell to the point where they can’t all fit in the same room anymore .

at 20 , she regroups , focuses on her own stuff again . she does some small producing work on the side , helping other artists who aren’t as well versed with the production stuff . it’s good money , good learning opportunity , and good exposure .

at 21 , she gets a job as a bartender on top of her barista job , hoping to save for her own place in irving . she doesn’t really want to move out but her aunt and her wife are trying to start a family . and she doesn’t want to be in the way .

at 22 , her aunt gets pregnant , and with her wife picking up more shifts to cover the impending financial burden of having a baby , jet decides to stay .

now ––

her parents are still missing , but honestly it’s been so long they may as well be dead . she still misses them , sure , but the whole in her heart isn’t as large as it was when she was 12 . at least not for the same reasons .

she’s still producing music , but it’s become more of her job than a hobby . it’s good money , for the most part , but she wants more time for her stuff .

her aunt gave birth last year and jet spends a lot of time with her cousin , frey . she quit her job as a bartender to take over as a full time babysitter , but she doesn’t mind . she loves playing her music for the little boy , though her aunts are weary about her teaching him the drums when he gets older .

she’s still writing and playing music , but she definitely makes time to go out and have a good time because why not ? someday you could just disappear and you would’ve spent your whole life agonizing over trivial things when you could just ~have fun~

her aunt still wants her to go school , tbh because that’s what her parents would have wanted for her . she struggles to bite back the ‘ well my parents aren’t here ’ on the tip of her tongue every time they have that argument .

personality ––

becoming an orphan at such a young age kind of fucked her up , for the lack of a better term . she developed some anger issues as a teen , most of which she would take out on her drum set . lord only knows how many sticks she’s broken .

she love love loves playing the drums . it’s her absolute favorite thing in the world and it helps her calm down , get through a bad day , or even to make a good day even better . it lets her get a lot of her energy out and to her , it’s really the one thing she can count on to never leave . if she’s not near her drums , she’s probably tapping her foot or tapping her fingers on a table . it’s her go-to fidget move , which can get a little annoying .

her one serious relationship showed her how deep she could fall so she’s decided to not let that happen at all costs . she’s more of a hookup kind of gal , and a bit of a heartbreaker at that , but she’s honest with people . she’s not looking for a relationship . not right now , maybe not ever . once she actually has feelings for someone , she’ll avoid them or do whatever else to get over it . can’t get your heartbroken if you never let anyone near it , right ?

she’s a bit of a partier sometimes , especially when she’s got a lot of pent up energy . basically she’s got two sides , a fun party side and a sweet niece side. she’s got a wicked tolerance for alcohol , to be honest , but that sometimes means she’ll get crossed or not eat just so she can feel drunk faster .

she’s not the greatest barista ( think like almost as bad as rachel from friends ) , but she’s gotten a hell of a lot better than when she first started .

she’s gay so she can’t sit properly ever lmao . she’s more likely to sit on top of a table , rather than the chair at the table .

she’s a bit of a dork with puzzles , like she loves doing puzzles . they’re her favorite way to zone out , but no one is allowed to know this except maybe her best friend(s) bc she has a reputation pls

wcs ––

The Ex Girlfriend™ – it was super deep , super intense , and ended super badly

ride-or-die – been best friends since she came to town , literally inseparable , can always count on the two of them to be getting into trouble back in school

music clients – a singer-songwriter she produces for

unlikely or secret friends ? – not really sure what the reason would be but im sure we could come up with one

ex-hookups , current hookups , future hookups - @women : would love to plot these out ! ( just as a warning though , i do not write smut bc im ~uncomfy~ with that but im down for mentions and flirting )

friends of her aunts or something !

favorite coffee shop customers !

ex-bandmate , ex-clients , high school classmates, etc.

big down for literally anything !

[nishikuroo]

home.

/həʊm/

in which Daichi and Suga figure out the true meaning of home. 

[TW : mentions of s*lf h*rm, bl00d and su*c*de !!!! read at your own risk; below the page break]

Daichi chuckled as he heard Suga groan and drop his head onto his textbook again. “Careful Suga-san. If you keep doing that, you might not have a brain anymore,” he joked. He realised that Suga had been exceptionally quiet and exhausted lately, but he knew that if he wasn’t feeling well, he’d let Daichi know. After all, they are best friends. 

Daichi’s smile fell a little when Suga picked his head up to look at him. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent and his skin was paler than he remembered. ‘Maybe he really is going through something,’ Daichi thought. Suga let out a soft laugh and stifled a yawn.

“Suga-san, are you okay?” Daichi questioned. His concern for his grey-haired best friend only grew when Suga brushed it off. “Yeah, yeah. I haven’t been able to sleep well recently, but don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!” he flashed Daichi his signature, pearly-white smile and gave him a thumbs-up. 

Before Daichi could interrogate any further, his best friend jumped up and pointed out that it was time to head to the gym for volleyball practice. The two made their way to the club room to change out of their school uniforms. The weather was warmer today, which confused Daichi even more when he turned around and saw Suga wearing the Karasuno jacket zipped all the way up. They barely left the room before Daichi felt himself starting to sweat a bit.

“Suga-san, aren’t you uncomfortable? It’s really warm outside,” he asked as they made their way down the stairs. Suga stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to pull his sleeves down further. ‘If he finds out, it would break him,’ Suga thought. ‘But he deserves to know.’ 

‘Crap. I’m not ready to tell him yet. What do I say?’ Suga started to panic and blurted out the first excuse he could think of. “I’m anemic.” Daichi paused and stared at him, processing what he just said. ‘Maybe that explains the dark circles and pale skin,’ Daichi thought. “We’ve been best friends since first year, Suga-san. Why are you only saying this now? Are you sure you can still play?” Worry was written all over his face.

Suga looked away, his guilt immediately consuming him. ‘Damn it, why did I say that? Why didn’t I tell him the truth?’ He took a deep breath before turning back to face Daichi and shooting him another signature Sugawara smile. “Yeah of course! I wouldn’t play if I couldn’t handle it,” he reassured.

Before any of them could say something, a loud voice cried out from behind them. They turned around to see Tanaka running towards them. “Daichi! Suga!” he screeched in excitement. Suga giggled and he didn’t even need to turn to the captain beside him to know his expression. 

“Oi, stop being so noisy!” Daichi chided when Tanaka finally reached them. “Ahh, don’t be like that, captain! I know you missed me,” Tanaka smirked, throwing his arms over the seniors. The three continued to make their way to the gym, all secretly wishing for the same thing. Daichi slid open the doors, already knowing what they’d see, or who they wouldn’t see.

No Asahi, no Nishinoya.

The three all slumped their shoulders at this realisation, but suddenly got distracted by two other voices. They whipped their heads to the foreign voices, but somewhat familiar faces.

Tobio Kageyama.

Shoyo Hinata.

They were both arguing, completely oblivious to the seniors watching them. Suga continued observing with an amused expression as Daichi nicely tried to break up the argument. When that didn’t work, Tanaka jumped in.

Well, this should be interesting.

_____________________

It was finally the qualifiers. 

Their first match against Tokonami High was about to begin. Everyone was completely nervous. Suga was shaking, even though he was wearing his jacket. He rubbed the bandages wrapping his forearms, thankfully hidden by the sleeves. No one had found out the real reason yet, not even Daichi. The guilt was starting to eat at him, so he made a promise that he would tell him soon.

Hinata was the first to ask about his bandages, but Suga managed to convince him it was because he fell and scraped his forearms on a run.

Coach Ukai and Mr. Takeda gave their pep talks, leaving Daichi to speak last. He turned to the rest of the team, his smile radiating confidence. Suga couldn’t help but smile as he watched him. He thought about how far they’ve come ever since joining the club as freshmen. 

The whistle blew, and the team gathered in a circle. Suga watched each of his teammates’ faces, before shifting his focus to Daichi. The confident smile he wore never faltered. 

As Suga watched the captain of the team, his best friend, he had never felt more proud.

‘Karasuno, fight!’

_____________________

Karasuno lost to Aoba Johsai in the third round.

The entire team ate their dinner in silence, with tears streaming down their faces. Nobody knew what to say. Daichi and Suga looked at each other with solemn expressions. Even after all that, Suga still managed to give Daichi a soft smile before turning back to his food.

Daichi felt at peace whenever he was with Suga. Even through all the bad times. They were always by each other’s side no matter what. He continued to stare at Suga a little longer, taking in everything about him.

The way there was always a soft smile on his lips, the way his eyes sparkled, the way his hair was somehow always perfect, the little mole below his eye.

He always knew he had feelings for Suga, but he was too scared to admit it.

Daichi and Suga made their way home when everyone was done with their meal. They walked in silence for a couple minutes before Suga spoke up. “Hey, do you wanna take the long way home? The route we used to walk back in first year?” 

Daichi smiled and nodded his head. He knew it was Suga’s favourite route because of the garden that had the swings, but they stopped walking there because of how tired they were after practice. They continued to walk in silence as they walked straight instead of taking the usual right turn. Daichi looked at Suga only to find him staring up at the stars, his hands stuffed in his pockets as usual. 

It was then that Daichi realised he rarely saw Suga without outerwear anymore. In school, his sleeves would be rolled down instead of up to his elbows, and during practice, he would wear the beige sweater or his Karasuno jacket. 

‘Maybe he just gets cold easily because of his anemia,’ he thought. Just as he was about to ask Suga about it, his voice cut the silence first.

“Hey Daichi, what does ‘home’ mean to you?” he asked softly. Daichi stopped and watched Suga’s back as he continued to make his way to the swings in the middle of the garden. Suga may be the nicest and the mother of the team, but it was usually Daichi asking the deep questions whenever they talked.

“Oi, are you just gonna stand there and wait for a red carpet?” Suga joked. Daichi shook his head and laughed as he sat on the swing beside Suga. 

‘What does home mean to me?’

Daichi thought about it for a while before answering. “Well, to me, home is wherever my family is. Wherever my comfort zone and safe space is. Wherever I’m happy,” he looked at Suga, realising that he was looking at what he just described.

He opened his mouth to continue, but immediately stopped when he registered Suga’s appearance. He was shaking despite the air being still, his jacket suddenly looked more oversized on him, his skin was almost snow-like, the dark circles under his eyes were getting worse, but what broke his heart was seeing Suga trying to hold back tears as he continued looking up at the stars.

“Koushi…” Daichi had never called him by his first name before, but Suga couldn’t ignore the butterflies. “What does home mean to you?” Daichi continued, keeping his voice soft. Despite being best friends for three years, he had rarely seen Suga cry other than losing a match.

Suga let out an empty laugh as he finally let the tears fall. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before taking a breath and smiling sadly at Daichi.

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt it before.”

Daichi was absolutely heartbroken. It hurt him seeing his best friend like that. Suga was always so positive and light hearted, always encouraging the team no matter what. Hell, Suga was even proud of Kageyama instead of getting mad. To Daichi, Suga had the purest soul in the world who didn’t deserve hurt or sadness.

As he followed his instinct to hug and comfort Suga, he noticed something. Tiny red stains at the bottom of Suga’s white shirt, near the side. They were barely noticeable, but he still managed to catch a glimpse before pulling Suga in. As Daichi embraced him, everything started to click in his mind.

The dark circles, the pale skin, losing weight, always covering his arms.

He decided not to address it because he trusted that Suga would tell him when he was ready, but he hugged him tighter and whispered, “hey, you know I’m always here for you no matter what. If you need someone to talk to, just come to me. Just come home.”

_____________________

After that day, Daichi became more observant towards Suga. Whenever they walked to school together, he always made sure to bring bread for Suga in case he hadn’t eaten breakfast. He would constantly check up on him and try his best to cheer him up.

Suga was slowly opening up to Daichi about how he was feeling, which he was thankful for. But whenever they parted ways, Daichi’s mind would linger with Suga. He was starting to get frustrated because he didn’t know how to help him. He didn’t know how to make him feel better.

He felt like a useless best friend.

That night, as he was about to fall asleep, Daichi’s phone buzzed.

Suga [11:42pm] : hey, you awake?

Daichi [11:42pm] : yeah, what’s wrong?

A minute passed by and still no answer. Daichi started to get worried, and all possibility of falling asleep disappeared. 

Did something happen to Suga? Is he okay? Does he need help?

Daichi’s mind was running wild with questions and possibilities when his phone buzzed again. 

Suga [11:45pm] : can you meet me at the swings in 10 minutes?

Daichi [11:45pm] : yeah of course. I’ll see you there. Stay safe alright?

Suga [11.45pm] : thank you, daichi. I will, and you too.

It took Suga 3 minutes to reply, but Daichi felt like it had been hours. He quickly got up and threw a jacket over his pajamas before quietly slipping out of the house. He wore his shoes and made his way to Suga’s favourite garden. On the way, he started to remember the memories they made there.

It was nicknamed as ‘The Garden of Hope’, because every time they went there feeling down, they would always leave feeling happier. Suga came up with the name after they found the place. It was after their seniors had lost their last match.

That day, they spent hours just talking on the swings, laying on the grass, admiring all the flowers surrounding them. They talked about their future, about how Suga wanted to be a teacher and how Daichi wanted to be a policeman. They talked about how amazing it would be to play at Nationals, or how much ramen Daichi could eat in one sitting. By the time they had to leave, they felt a new sense of hope; like things would get better soon.

It wasn’t long before he reached the garden and saw Suga already sitting on the swings with his knees up to his chest. When Daichi got closer, Suga suddenly shot up and whipped his head around. His eyes had an alarmed look, but he relaxed the moment he realised it was just Daichi. 

Suga gave him a tired smile after he got comfortable on the swing. They sat in silence for a minute before Suga turned to him again and said, “Thank you Daichi, it really means alot to me.”

“Hey, when I said I’m here for you, I mean it,” he replied. The silence surrounded them once more. Daichi didn’t know what to say or do. Suga could feel his worry and frustration. He felt horrible because he knew Daichi wanted to help, but Suga also wasn't letting him in.

[TRIGGER WARNING]

He finally turned to Daichi and removed his sweater. Suga looked him in the eyes, trying to hold back tears, as he said, “I’m three days clean.”

That was when Daichi finally saw them. Suga’s arms. They were filled with lines. Some short, some long, some healed, some fresh, some thin, some thick. Daichi felt a stab to his heart as he looked at each scar.

“Suga…” Daichi was speechless. For each scar, Suga went through something horrible alone. Tears threatened to fall from Daichi’s eyes, but he held them back. ‘I have to be strong. For Suga.’

He didn’t say anything, but instead pulled Suga into a hug so tight, he hoped all of Suga’s broken pieces would come together. At that moment, Daichi made a promise to the both of them. 

He promised that Suga would never feel like he’s alone, no matter what. 

Neither of them wanted to let go. They stayed in each other’s arms, even when Suga broke down crying. He gripped Daichi’s arms, silently begging him. 

‘Please, please don’t leave me’ 

And for the first time in years, Daichi said a silent prayer.

‘Please, I’m begging you, please take his pain away.’

_____________________

Ever since that night at the garden, Daichi suddenly felt hatred towards the world and everything beyond. He couldn’t explain why, but he refused to notice how beautiful the world was around him. 

It’s just a cruel place that’s unfair to the most kindhearted people.

It had only been two weeks. Daichi noticed Suga falling asleep in class more often, neglecting his studies more, and losing weight rapidly. The only time he ever saw Suga lively was during practice. 

He knew that Suga was only putting on an act in front of the juniors and freshmen, and so far, it was working. Nobody questioned his use of jackets and sweaters, or whenever he went to the toilet to change instead of the club room. 

Daichi checked Suga’s arms whenever they walked to school together. He felt like an asshole whenever he saw Suga reluctantly roll up his sleeves. It was difficult for Suga at first, but he gave in because he trusted Daichi. He promised himself that he would try his best to stop, because seeing Daichi’s expression that night broke his heart.

After practice, the pair walked to the garden again. This time, Daichi noticed something different. Suga’s eyes were sparkling, and they weren’t the stars reflected in them. They were genuinely sparkling. 

A tiny smile appeared on his face as he nudged Suga. “You seem to be in a better mood today,” he pointed out. Suga chuckled and Daichi felt his heart leap. He always loved hearing his laugh. 

“Yeah, I actually feel okay. It’s been forever since I felt this way,” Suga kicked a pebble as they crossed the road. Suddenly, he turned to face Daichi with a grin. Oh, that smile. It could melt even the coldest heart. 

“Race you there!” Suga sprinted ahead, leaving Daichi stunned as he processed what happened. “Oi, dumbass! Don’t cry if you fall down!” He jokingly called after Suga as he chased him. 

When they finally reached their hideaway, they both plopped onto the grass as they caught their breath. After a couple minutes of calming down, they made eye contact and burst out laughing.

Neither of them knew why, but that was the moment that Suga realised he only felt genuine happiness with Daichi, especially when they were playing volleyball together. 

They laid down on the grass and stared up at the stars in silence. Suga’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “the world is so beautiful.”

Daichi turned to look at him, studying his expression. Suga looked peaceful for once. The way his chest rose and fell steadily comforted Daichi. He was ready to retort with his hatred for the world, but stopped himself as he continued resting his eyes on Suga’s figure. 

‘He’s still here. Thank you for still holding on. I know it’s tough, but you’re the strongest person I know.’

He switched his position so he was fully facing Suga. “Why do you think so?” he questioned him instead. Daichi had never said it, but he loved the way Suga’s mind worked. He loved hearing his thoughts, good or bad. He felt like Suga saw the world differently, that even at his lowest, he could still find silver linings. 

They spent hours talking again. From the moon and sun to aliens to volleyball to their insecurities. By the time they ran out of things to talk about, it was past midnight. 

As they got ready to make their way home, Suga turned to Daichi. “I promise I’ll stop, for you.” Daichi was shocked. ‘He… He would do that for me?’ He knew that it wouldn’t be easy for Suga, but he was willing to stay by his side every step of the way. “Koushi, you don’t have to promise me. I know it’s difficult,” he replied. 

Suga smiled at him once more. “As long as I’m with you, I can get through anything.”

Daichi knew that healing and recovery was never easy, but he didn’t expect everything to go downhill so quickly.

_____________________

A week before the Tokyo training camp, the entire team was in high spirits, even Suga. He was getting more rest and he started to eat more each day. His skin was starting to gain more colour and he slowly stopped using his jacket. Both Daichi and Suga felt like he was making good progress.

Suga was 27 days clean.

Daichi had been so supportive, always checking up on Suga. He always gave Suga space whenever he needed it, but he never left his side. Everyday, Daichi never failed to let him know how proud he was.

Friday night, Daichi was studying, but none of the material was entering his brain. He felt like something was off. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. ‘Maybe it was something I ate earlier,’ he reassured himself.

His mind then wandered to Suga. ‘I wonder if he…’ He didn’t finish his thought before mentally scolding himself. ‘No! Don’t think that way, Sawamura. It’s like you don’t trust him. He’s okay. If he wasn’t, he would’ve texted me,’ he continued to reassure himself.

As if the world was mocking him, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it and as his eyes scanned the message, his heart stopped.

Suga [1:04am] : Daivhi.. hrlp

He didn’t hesitate before jumping up and running out of the house. He didn’t even think to wear his shoes or a jacket. All he thought about was Suga.

‘No no no no no. Please be okay, please be okay!’

He ignored the cold wind biting his exposed arms. He ignored the gravel digging into his feet. He pulled out his phone and tried calling Suga. 

It went straight to voicemail.

‘I’m almost there. Hold on Suga, I’m coming.’

After what seemed like forever, Daichi finally saw the familiar house. He forced his legs to keep going. He burst through the front door and called out Suga’s name.

No reply.

He ran around the house frantically until he finally found him in his bed. Daichi continued to walk into Suga’s bedroom, but he just laid motionless.

[TRIGGER WARNING]

His eyes scanned the room until he saw the tissues on the floor and scattered on the blanket. They were all red. He immediately rushed to Suga, checking his pulse. ‘It’s weak, it’s barely there. But it’s still there. I can still save him,’ it was taking all of him not to break down.

He shook Suga, begging him to wake up. When he didn’t respond, Daichi looked at Suga’s arms. The bleeding hadn’t stopped. Tears fell as he took off his shirt and put pressure on his arms. He prayed again that it would stop, that Suga would wake up.

‘I can’t lose you. I know it’s selfish, but you keep me going too. So please, please give me a sign that you’re still here. Please come back to me,’ he silently begged.

Nothing. After 5 minutes, there was still nothing.

Daichi couldn’t hold it in anymore. He let the tears continue falling as he loosened his grip on the shirt around Suga’s arm. 

At the same time, Suga was slipping in and out of consciousness. He felt cold despite the thick blanket covering the rest of his body. He could hear Daichi, and he felt his heart break.

‘I’m sorry, Sawamura. You don’t deserve this,’ he thought.

He wanted so badly to call out to Daichi, to wipe his tears away and hug him. He felt guilty that Daichi had to go through the pain of seeing his best friend in this state. Suga never meant for this to happen. He thought he was getting better, he really did. He wanted to make Daichi proud, but some things just get heavier the longer you carry them. 

He knew he should’ve talked to Daichi when it got too much, but he didn’t want to burden his best friend. At that moment, he thought about how selfish he was really being. He constantly pushed his best friend away despite him always waiting with open arms, waiting for him to come back home.

Home.

Suga tried one last time to open his eyes, move a finger, let out a whisper, to do anything to let Daichi know he was still there.

And Daichi felt Suga squeeze his hand.

He shot up from the floor and he saw Suga slowly cracking open his eyes.

‘You’re still here, thank God you’re still here.’

Suga’s voice broke, “I’m sorry.” Daichi smiled through his tears and didn’t say anything as he hugged Suga tightly. “There’s no need to be sorry, I understand.”

Suga’s heart ached. ‘He’s not mad… Even after I broke my promise, he’s not angry, he’s not blaming me.’

Just then, Suga felt everything at once. The cold wind coming in from the window, the pain in his arm, the tears from Daichi wetting his shoulder, Daichi’s heartbeat against his own. His body started shaking and he started crying as well.

After a few minutes, Daichi helped Suga clean and wrap his arms up and get rid of the tissues around the floor. Once all that was done, Suga weakly tugged at Daichi’s shirt. “Sawamura, can you stay?”

Daichi smiled as he got into bed beside Suga. “Of course. I’d never leave you.”

He wrapped his arm around Daichi’s torso and laid his head on his chest. Suga could still hear Daichi’s rapid heartbeat. 

“I’m sor-” Daichi cut him off. “If you apologise again, I will push you off your own bed.”

The both of them let out soft chuckles and Daichi tightened his grip on Suga.

‘I broke my promise. I’m sorry Suga. I’m sorry if you felt alone again.’

“You don’t have to apologise, Koushi. I understand that it’s not easy recovering and staying clean. I can’t say I know how you feel, because I don’t. I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling now. But I just want to remind you that I’m always here for you no matter what,” Daichi whispered as he played with Suga’s hair. “You don’t have to tell me why you did it if you don’t want to. I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

After that, they laid in silence, and eventually, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

_____________________

Suga stayed home for the entire weekend with Daichi by his side. They watched movies, ate their favourite food, stargazed on Suga’s roof, and just talked.

By the time they reached the school Sunday evening to go to Tokyo, Suga had begun to feel better, but Daichi was still wary and continued to keep an eye on him. Coach Ukai, Mr. Takeda and Kiyoko were already waiting by the bus.

As the Karasuno team made their way to Tokyo, the bus was full of noise instead of silence. Obviously, Nishinoya and Tanaka were the loudest. Daichi would shout at them a little here and there, but gave up when Suga joined in on the banter.

“Stop being such a strict dad and loosen up,” Suga jokingly nudged his shoulder. 

Daichi couldn’t help but notice the way Suga’s eyes crinkled whenever he laughed, how it sounded like the most comforting thing in the world, how being beside him just felt so right. 

After a couple hours, the bus fell silent as the noisy duo succumbed to their exhaustion. Suga was sleeping on Daichi’s shoulder, soft snores escaping his slightly open mouth. 

“I hope you’re at least having a good dream,” Daichi murmured as he rested his head on top of Suga’s. He listened to the sound of their heart beats slowly syncing with each other until it was just one sound. 

No matter how hard he tried, Daichi couldn’t stop thinking about how he could help Suga. He didn’t want to push his boundaries, but he also didn’t want to just sit back and watch Suga slowly break down. 

He then tried to remember the things they did together; things that could calm Suga down, things that brought a genuine smile to his face. 

Thinking about Suga smiling brought a smile to Daichi’s own face. He chuckled lightly as he played with Suga’s hair, thinking of the stupid things they did as freshmen. 

And in that moment, Daichi made a promise to always be there for Suga, no matter what. 

During the training camp, Suga was way more positive than usual; complimenting and motivating the team even more. 

Despite losing the majority of the practice matches, Suga’s optimism never failed to boost the team’s morale. He constantly praised everyone’s efforts, especially Kageyama’s. 

Daichi saw this as a good sign, or so he thought. 

He finally found out the real reason a week before the Spring Inter-High. 

_____________________

The pair had agreed to meet for an all-nighter at a cafe to study. When Daichi reached, there was no sign of his chaotic yet soft best friend. There wasn’t a text, either. 

He thought that Suga was just running late or his phone had died, but as the seconds ticked by, an uncomfortable feeling started spreading in his chest to his stomach. It was all too familiar, and all too alarming.

‘The last time I felt this… It was before he messaged me for help. Please be okay,’ he thought to himself as he pulled his phone out, as if another text for help would pop up. 

He glanced at the time. 

10.45pm. 

Suga was 45 minutes late. And he was almost never late.

Daichi’s instincts told him to run. To run all the way to Suga’s house. Because Suga wasn’t okay, because he needed help. 

So that’s what he did.

He ignored the stares from others around him as he grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the cafe. The only thing he could hear was his heartbeat syncing with his feet hitting the ground. He ran faster than he ever did.

He tried to call Suga’s phone while trying to figure out the fastest way to get to him.

When his calls were sent straight to voicemail for the third time in a row, he felt his heart threatening to jump out of his mouth. He continued sprinting towards a familiar house that wasn’t his, not being able to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

As he burst through Suga’s front door, he felt a sense of deja vu, and the house had suddenly become colder. Pushing the memory aside, he made a beeline to Suga’s room, praying that it wouldn’t be a repeat of last time; that maybe Suga just fell asleep from exhaustion and that’s why he wasn't picking up the phone. 

[TRIGGER WARNING]

As he cracked open his bedroom door, Daichi tried to prepare for the worst. But nothing could prepare him for what he saw next. 

Suga was on his bed, but no sign of red tissues. Just a pool below the arm hanging off the edge of the bed.

Daichi felt his heart stop. He couldn't move. He couldn’t process the scene in front of him.

He wanted to call out his name, to beg him to wake up, but his voice was caught in his throat. He wanted so badly to hold Suga in his arms, to shake him, to see his eyes open and hear his laugh again, but he was just frozen at the doorway.

Daichi didn’t feel the tears running down his face, he didn’t feel his legs give up, he didn’t feel his knees hit the floor, or the shouts leaving his mouth.

All he could think about was that Suga was gone.

He crawled to his lifeless body, taking his hand in his. Daichi let his head fall onto Suga’s unmoving shoulder, letting the realisation hit him.

Suga’s gone.

His home was gone.

He didn’t get to say goodbye.

He didn’t live up to his promise, about how he made sure that Suga would never feel alone again.

It might’ve been minutes, even hours since Daichi had his head on Suga’s shoulder, his knees to his chest, the love of his life’s hand in his. He didn’t care how long it had been, he didn’t want to leave Suga’s side even if he left Daichi’s long ago. 

Through the tears, he noticed a small piece of paper at the foot of the bed. It was small, but still big enough to look out of place.

Without letting go, he reached over and grabbed the thin piece of paper. It was an envelope, addressed to him.

His heart stopped as he took in Suga’s familiar handwriting. Every stroke, every line, every curve. 

After a few minutes, Daichi finally got the courage to carefully open it. His mind was racing with a million questions. Was this going to be a letter full of hatred? Sadness? Hurt?

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he tore open the letter carefully, trying his best to avoid creating the jagged tears. He swore his heart stopped beating as he pulled out the folded piece of paper. 

He noticed the small, wet splotches scattered here and there. 

Suga cried while writing this letter to him. 

Despite all the memories the pair had made over the past 3 years, Daichi felt like this was truly the only thing from Suga he had. He knew he would never let it go. 

He drew in a shaky breath as he prepared to read Suga’s last words. 

Dear Daichi,

Stop crying! If I was there, I’d definitely hit you while screaming ‘negativity begone!’. I can’t say I understand how you’re feeling. Mad? Upset? Hurt? Maybe even betrayed? But whatever you’re feeling, I hope you don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault. I know you did your best to be there for me, even at my lowest; and for that, I’m forever grateful. You stood by me through the good and bad. You never once gave up on me. When I said I wanted to quit, it was because of your faith in me. Faith that I could actually get through this. Faith that I was stronger than I thought I was. I never understood what home meant until that night. All my life, I thought home was a place with four walls. A place where you live, and whenever you’d leave, you’d have someone waiting for you. I finally realised that home doesn’t have to be a place; because your arms weren’t four walls. Your arms would always be there waiting for me to come back if I ever left. So Sawamura Daichi, thank you for being my home; my lifeline. I never meant for this to happen, for you to go through this, but I finally decided that there’s another home that I want to go back to. I’m sorry Daichi, I got tired and I wanted to rest. I want to thank you and everyone else for making my last week so amazing. Seeing you guys grow at such an incredible pace assured me that you’d all be fine without me. Thank you for always being there for me, for loving me when I couldn’t even love myself, for always being a reminder that life was worth living. Don’t worry, I’ll always be watching over you and the team, and I’ll always be cheering you guys on no matter what. Please, make it to the nationals; not for me, but for yourself and Asahi. 

I love you, Sawamura Daichi. 

Koushi Sugawara 

The last line was the final straw; the final punch to the gut. It registered that he’d never be able to say those three words to Suga, nor would he ever be able to hear the same words from him. 

Daichi thought back to all the chances he had, but never took. All those nights at the garden, walking back home, the all-nighters at the cafe, the study sessions at the library. 

If he could go back in time, he would take all those chances to look Suga in the eyes and say “I love you”. He would create more chances for the both of them to utter those three words. He would spend as much time as he could, and hold him as close and as long as he could. He would run his fingers through Suga’s hair and spend countless nights falling asleep together. He would find a way to go to space and capture all the stars just for Suga. 

It was probably a few more hours before Daichi finally decided to get up and clean the mess before doing whatever else was necessary. 

As he watched the love of his life get taken away on a stretcher, he made one last promise to Suga; they were going to nationals even if it’s the last thing they do. 

_____________________

Daichi mentally prepared himself before entering the gym. He had no idea how the team would react to the news. Once more, he hoped for the best but prepared for the worst as he slid open the doors. 

The noise and banter immediately halted as the rest of the team took note of their captain’s red, puffy eyes and defeated demeanour. They also noticed the lack of his other half trailing in beside him. 

Five. 

They counted five seconds of silence and no Suga. 

Five seconds and no chaotic energy. 

Five seconds before Daichi’s weak voice echoed throughout the gym. 

“Suga… He… He’s gone.”

Five more seconds passed. 

One ; Daichi’s words bounced off the walls. 

Two ; The words entered everyone else’s ears. 

Three ; They tried to comprehend it. 

Four ; It finally registered. 

Five ; That’s when it hit them, all of them, all at once. 

Asahi was speechless. The juniors broke down in tears. The freshmen were stunned, not knowing how to react. It was clear on Kageyama’s face, but before he could blame himself for being one of the reasons, Daichi gave him a look. 

A look that said, “it wasn’t your fault, if anything, he was extremely proud of you.”

That was all it took for Kageyama to let his pride crumble and finally let his emotions take over. He couldn’t help but feel like he was one of the causes why. He still couldn’t help but blame himself.

No one said anything as their cries echoed throughout the gym. 

They knew that nothing would be the same again.

_____________________

Karasuno finally made it to the nationals.

As the whistle sounded signifying the end of the Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, both Daichi and Asahi hugged each other in tears.

‘We did it, we made it to nationals for you, Suga. I hope you’re proud of us.’

Ever since the team received the news on Suga, they collectively made a pact to continue fighting for him.

As Daichi and Asahi continued hugging, they swore they felt one more person joining the duo.

And they knew he was watching over them, no doubt having his proud, motherly smile occupying his lips.

Before each and every match of the Spring Interhigh Qualifiers, the team would take a moment to honour Suga.

And as soon as it was time to start the match, Daichi would let his voice and his words be heard by the audience.

“Karasuno, fight! For Suga!”

_____________________

It was the end of the first day of nationals. Daichi sighed as he glanced at the barely visible clock hanging on the wall. His eyes could barely make out the hands pointing to 12:03. He turned to his teammates who were sleeping peacefully despite the uncertainty that the next day would bring.

Giving in to his impulsive mind, he got up soundlessly and threw on his jacket and slippers before sliding out the door, being careful not to wake anyone up. He decided that a walk would be able to clear his head and help him fall asleep faster.

As he started to pace aimlessly, his mind brought him back to Suga. Would things be different if he were here? Would everyone still be on edge even with Suga calming them down? Would Coach Ukai have been able to think of different strategies with Suga’s help? 

Daichi felt like he was walking for a good few minutes, but as he took in his surroundings, he realised he was lost. He was so consumed by his thoughts that he hadn’t realised that he probably made a wrong turn.

He let out a huff as he started to think of retracing his steps when a tiny garden caught his eye. He contemplated for a few moments before he felt himself slowly grow closer. Maybe it was because he missed the Garden of Hope, but he knew no other garden could replace it. 

Either way, he took a seat on one of the benches and continued to reminisce his fondest moments at the Garden with Suga.

Daichi plucked a flower that Suga was busy admiring. Too busy admiring to even listen to what Daichi was ranting about. The moment the delicate object was removed from Suga’s eyesight, he gasped and looked at Daichi with a playful pout.

The latter just laughed as he tucked the flower behind his best friend’s ear as a joke. “Suga, what a pretty boy you are,” he joked as Suga’s pout remained. Right after that, Suga chided Daichi on how he was killing flowers and how ‘heartless’ he could be to the flower’s family members.

At that moment, all Daichi could think about was how truly pretty Suga looked.

“If you were a flower, I’d kill you first because the prettiest always get plucked first,” he’d laugh.

And he wanted to freeze time when he saw Suga blush and stutter. It was the first time Daichi had finally seen some colour in his partner’s face after weeks.

If only he told him he loves him instead of saying that.

“Well, all I know is that flowers can cheer anyone up, no matter who they’re from. I mean if I got flowers from my worst enemy, I’d still hate them, don’t get me wrong. But it would definitely make me feel better somehow,” Suga trailed off as he laid back down on the grass.

Daichi hadn’t realised that Suga was already talking about something else other than ‘killing flowers’.

‘Only you could turn something so ugly into something beautiful,’ he thought as he continued staring at the figure laying beside him, eyes twinkling from the stars.

Daichi was taken back to reality as he felt the salty tears rolling down his cheeks and falling onto his fingers.

Fuck. Why was the world so unfair?

He didn’t hold back as he finally let his pain and anger out. He shouted at the moon, seemingly mocking him.

The same moon they used to gaze up at.

The same moon he talked to about Suga.

The same moon who knew the words that Suga never got to hear.

The same moon right in the middle of the stars.

The stars that Suga joined.

Daichi felt his heart ache as he continued to question the world. Why did it have to take Suga away from him so soon? What did he do to deserve this? Was it because he wasn’t doing enough to help him? Was it because he didn’t deserve to have so amazing beside him?

And it finally hit him that he never got to tell Suga that he loves him. He knew it all along, but he only comprehended it now. He felt his heart tear even more as he gripped the edge of the bench, trying to pull himself back to reality.

He felt overwhelmed, like he needed to get it out of his system, so he shouted into the dark that he loves Suga; that he’s sorry.

He shouted until his voice gave out, until his throat burned and begged for water, until his vision went blurry. He shouted as loud as he could, hoping the moon and stars would hear him one last time, hoping that one of the stars was Suga listening.

As his voice quieted to soft sobs interrupted by hiccups, Daichi felt the wind around him pick up. The cold he initially felt was replaced by warmth. The same warmth that Suga’s hugs brought. 

The same warmth that felt like home.

The same hugs that felt like home.

He continued sitting there, trying to remember the way the warmth wrapped around him, silently reassuring him that things would be okay. 

Once he’d finally calmed down, he made his way back to his room at the accommodation. He silently slipped in once again, avoiding all the creaks and unstable boards. 

Before he could get past the first few beds, he noticed something sitting on the desk by the door. As he tiptoed closer, he realised it was a bunch of flowers arranged neatly, with a folded card right in the middle. He didn’t have to open it to figure out who it came from.

His eyes welled up with tears as he slowly made his way to the desk, his hand shaking as he picked up and opened the card. After his eyes scanned over it, he couldn’t hold back the tears once more and let them fall freely.

‘Good job for making it past the first day, my love. It only gets harder from here, but I believe in the team, especially you, captain :). Thank you for fighting for me, now get some rest and prepare for tomorrow; I bet you’re exhausted. I love you Daichi, and good luck <3 - Suga’

What Daichi or the rest of the team didn’t know was that before he left, Suga had a feeling they would make it to Nationals. So he went to the florist in advance and arranged for certain bouquets of flowers with corresponding cards at the end of each day.

As he clutched the card in his trembling hands, Daichi finally realised what home truly was.

Home is where you feel safe; happy. Home is where you feel love, healing, comfort. Home can be a person, or place, or thing. Home doesn’t have to be four walls. Home doesn’t have to be the place you live in. 

And so Daichi softly smiles as he accepts the fact that Suga was truly home because he wasn’t suffering anymore.

That even though Daichi lost his home, he knew he’d be okay because at least Suga finally knows what home truly feels like.

[kpoppwriter]

The Weight Of A Crown pt. 5

Genre: royalty au

Words: 1.2k+

Warnings: swearing/language

Taglist: @lamarkeu

a/n: I don’t wanna spoil too much but this got real fluffy I made myself real soft

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | epilogue 

Mingyu became a familiar face in your home. He came to visit you as well as offer his assistance many times since offering to help you. You need to be independent and do things your way was completely thrown out the window. You let Mingyu help you. 

Over time the feelings you had for each other grew exponentially. You wouldn’t call it love but it was pretty damn close to it. He spent many a night comforting you when you were unsure of yourself and your decisions. His smiling face became a beacon of hope for you. It was something you never wanted to lose. 

~

You woke up rather late today. You were up late the night before, consumed with work. You groggily sat up in bed. The clock read 11:42. You were surprised you weren’t asleep longer. The way the clouds covered the sun made it seem like it was later in the day. You tuned as you head a knock at your bedroom door. It opened slowly. The first thing you could see was a tray of food. Then Mingyu.

“Good morning- or should I say good afternoon,” he teased, “I brought you something to eat.”

“You are far too good to me,” you smiled, pecking his lips when he brought over the food.

You sat on your bed with Mingyu as you enjoyed your food. Your conversation wasn’t particularly interesting but it kept the two of you entertained. You laughed as he tried to steal some of your french toast but missing his mouth while trying to eat it, getting syrup on his face. He was such a clutz sometimes. If you didn’t know he was a prince, you would’ve never believed it. 

The day past by slowly. You spent most of it enjoying your time with Mingyu. Yes, there were things you needed to attend to but you just wanted one day to yourself. Well, one day to yourself plus Mingyu. You wanted every day to be like this one. Just simple and free. 

You watched the sky, zoning out as you looked at the beautiful mixture of colors of the sunset. There was a cool breeze; it was just cold enough to cool down the humidity in the air. You twirled the wine glass in your hand as you sat in a metal chair out in the courtyard, Mingyu beside you.

“What’s got you so lost in your own head?” Mingyu poked your temple

“Ah, nothing,” you sighed taking another sip of wine

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for a while now. Something’s on your mind.” 

His determination was cute. He did have quite the intuition when it came to your mind. He could read you like a book. 

“I’m just thinking about how nice this is,” you said 

“Mmm, I know,” he sighed, leaning back into the chair, “It’s really nice.”

His hand reached over and grabbed yours. His fingers interlocked into yours. 

“It feels normal like we aren’t royals.”

He hummed in agreement, even though he didn’t know what it felt like to not be a royal. You looked over at him. His honey-colored skin was practically glowing in the sunlight. The soft smile on his lips matched the warmth of his skin. His eyes met yours. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. The way he looked at you with such admiration and care always stunned you. He leaned over and pressed his lips on yours. You could taste the wine on his lips, slightly bitter but still delicious. No alcohol could make you drunker than how drunk you got on his kisses. If this was the last feeling you ever felt, you’d be happy with that. 

~

“What are we supposed to do now!?” 

You crumpled another letter rejecting your plea for help. That was the last nation you could possibly ask. Minah looked at you, her face shocked and scared.

“I’m not sure,” she responded quietly

“We’re really starting to run out of everything,” you glanced back over at your papers, “Everything’s going to go to ruins at this rate.”

“No, Your Highness! You’ll be able to-”

“Your Majesty!”

One of the guards came bursting through the door of your office, out of breath from running. You stood up, clearly shocked by the sudden outburst. 

“There are soldiers coming towards the palace.”

You looked over at Minah, the fear evident on your face. You ran out of the office towards the entrance of the palace. Minah and the guard followed. Just as you got to the entrance, you saw them. A wall of soldiers marched down the road leading up to the palace. A few men on horses were in front, leading the soldiers. They stopped a little ways away from you as if they were trying not to scare you. One of the men hopped off his horse and approached you. 

“Prince Seungcheol?” you exclaimed, “What the hell is this?!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to do this,” he sighed, giving you a letter

You read it over. You almost collapsed when you finished it. Your knuckles turned white as grasped onto the parchment. You scoffed as you looked up at Seungcheol.

“Marry you or it’s war?” you questioned, “What bullshit is this?!”

“It’s not me, Y/N, I promise. It’s my Father.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!” you yelled

Seungcheol was quiet. You read the letter over again. You could feel the weight of your people on your shoulders at that moment. You had to make a decision that would either harm or help your subjects. It was a tough sacrifice to make.

“Stop it!” 

A horse with a man atop ran around the soldiers, stopping beside you. The man hopped off the horse and stormed over to Seungcheol pushing him away from you forcefully.

“Stop it, Seungcheol.”

“Mingyu, I know you have feelings for-”

“That’s not the point of this!” he shouted, “Do you think it’s right to force her to marry you just so you won’t declare war?”

“This isn’t me! It’s our Fath-”

“I know it’s him but you’re letting him get away with this! You aren’t stopping him! You aren’t going against his word! Does that mean you’re okay with all this?! That you’re willing to jeopardize her happiness for her kingdom? To ruin what she and I have? Are you that complacent that you’d-”

“Stop Mingyu.”

You placed your hand on his arm. He was clearly fuming but his expression softened when he saw your tear stain cheeks. You couldn’t look at him. You walked forward towards Seungcheol, handing the letter back to him.

“I’ll marry you.”

“Y/N don’t-”

“There’s no winning in this situation!” 

Your voice was much louder than you had expected, or anyone expected for that matter. The world fell silent for a moment, everyone waiting for your next word with bated breath. 

“I’m a queen. I gave up my own happiness when I was crowned. My people need to be saved and this is the only way to do that.”

You stared daggers at Seungcheol before throwing the letter at him. You turned and walked back into the palace. Mingyu stopped you.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, trying to suppress a sob

You walked past him quickly, not turning back when he called out your name. 

[writingsofmyimagination]

Believer

Yoo Kihyun x Reader

Rating:18+

Summary: Honestly the video and the Believer cover killed me so enjoy some PWP based around it! 

Warnings: Shameless PWP (Slight BDSM themes (Dom Kihyun OFC), nothing to extreme - Toys, edging, denial, over-stimulation)

On editing actually decided I didn’t like this but it’s all done now :P

//

The music was throbbing through your ear pods, the bass unconsciously in sync with your steps up the stairs. The bass which you hoped would also drown out the throb between your legs. The throb which had been damn near constant for days. Literally.

Yoo fucking Kihyun.

//

It’s been about a week since he released the cover of Imagine Dragons Believer. It’s been a week since you made the HUGE mistake of telling him it drove you mad watching him feel himself through the music like that. Kihyun wasn’t due at your place until tomorrow but you were too desperate and sought to tempt fate.

-So what did you think?”-16:03

-You hit it right out of the park obviously! -

-Yeah?-

-Yeah it was amazing. I’d also be lying if I said It didn’t make me want to fuck you so bad right now-

-And what a shame you won’t be seeing me for a week :P-

You pictured the smug first that would have been plastered on his face. Stroking his already inflated ego always put you first class to tortureville.

-What can we do to help my princess get through the week then?- he’d added

-Come over or leave me alone- you’d offered as the lemon green tea doused your throat while smothered in your blankets on your sofa.

-It’s going to be more fun because I’m doing neither…-

Before you’d even finished reading the message you knew whatever you were going to get was THAT Kihyun. The Kihyun that totally consumed. The Kihyun that was so in control you’d do anything he asked because the alternative was much worse. Even if he wasn’t there. You’d rubbed your thighs together, tongue wetting your lips.

-…You’re going to touch yourself for me. Get yourself all worked up for me and I want you to show me –

You read those words in the way his devilish lips would have whispered if he were there. You’d sat up eagerly before replying.

-Want me to cum for you?-

- Definitely not! that’s reserved for me –

God if he could the pout on your face you’d be straight over the table ass out counting how many strikes to your ass you were going to get

-You fucking serious? I’m not seeing you for daaayyyss – You shot back accompanied with an army of sad faces.

-I never specified who it was going to be most fun for. But for that attitude you’re going to do it every day for me. Make sure you record your frustrated whines at the end. I want to hear how desperate you get.-

You cursed yourself and him a thousand times as you took yourself to the bedroom.

-I know you’re a good girl and you’ll do what your told-

You refused to reply and sent the videos to him.

//

Today was day six, to say you were irritable was an understatement. You’d not sent anything to him today. Tempting fate.

Jooheon was the one to let you into the dorm. Apparently catching him mid food prep; a spatula gripped in his free hand. His movements stopped dead. Eyes grew wide as his brain fought to find something he’d likely forgotten.

“Nothing was planned, chill. This is a surprise Kihyun when he gets in kind of thing” His shoulders dropped.

“Thank god my brain just panicked I’d not put enough food in. On that note though have you eaten? Want me to make you something?

“No thanks. But I do have a small favour to ask though” eyes on the floor observing the converse slip past your heels.

“Sure what’s up?” You took a quick gauge of the room. Minhyuk gave you a quick soft smile and nod before his eyes flew back to the large plasma screen to focus on holding his lead against Hyungwon in whatever overwatch thing was going on. Hyungwon’s eyes briefly acknowledged you but he was too busy squealing and wincing.

“Can you guys make yourself scarce for like ten minutes when he gets back pllleeeaaassseee”

You were responded with a blank, processing look on his face. Changkyun ending up startling Jooheon as he looped his arms round his neck. You don’t know what it is about him but this guy always knows when you’re up to no good. It’s like he knows you’ve got your lacy lingerie set with suspenders on underneath you red and black polka dot dress as well.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry” he stated winking in your direction. You could only roll your eyes amused, bringing your hands into a prayer to him.

“Guys! Let’s go! None of us wanna see when Ki gets surprised” The boys on the sofa fumbled up grabbing their crinkling packets of crisps wordlessly agreeing with Changkyun.

“Thank you soooo much guys, love you” you called after them as they disappeared into their rooms. You checked your phone, you had around ten minutes until Kihyun would be home from the studio. The artificial light of the teardrop lighting had become more prominent as the evening sun descended beneath the blocky skyline of Seoul; purple pastels separated by an orange hue.

You unhooked each button down the front of your dress. You boosted yourself up using the bar style stools to hoist you up to sitting on the marble breakfast island. You were not leaving until you got what you needed tonight and that was absolute in your mind.

It took a few long minutes for the harsh coolness of the marble to regulate to the body temperature of your behind. Phone in your hand aimlessly scrolling through your feed until Ki’s face bubble over took the screen.

“Can I help you” you immediately chimed

“Hey baby, yes you can I’m just getting ho...

His phone barely gripped in his hands. Eyes fixed on the shock on his kitchen side. The words he was going to speak completely strangled out in his throat. He was met with your silence. The misbehaviour screaming in your eyes, lip between your teeth.

“Where are the others?” his words were hesitant, eyes rushing around the room multiple times. He might be … but he was damn private when it came to you; he would not have any of the boys SEE you as you were now. Hear you, I mean he made it a damn point to have you crying him name so they could hear sometimes.

“Making themselves scarce for ten minutes so I can surprise you”

“Yeah?” His bag dropped at his feet, he’d snaked his was over to you zoning in to only you. His fingertips gentle in their dance up your thighs now either side of him.

“Well consider me surprised” he smirked through a kiss.

“Off!” He tapped at your thigh.

The second your feet found stability on the floor, you’d been spun. Stomach pressed to the cold side by a hand at your mid back, other hand trailing upwards in between your legs.

The frustrated exhale swept passed your lips dragging the corner of his up when his hands skipped out at the apex of your thighs gripping at your hips instead.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing princess” his hand slid further up your back to grip into your hair and tug.

“Teasing me into giving you what you want. You still have one more video to make before you get anything from me. So if I were you I’d go to my room put on your collar and wait for me” He pressed a kiss at your shoulder that lingered through the goose bumps. Your bodies moulded together in a final heated kiss before you waltzed off to the bedroom.

Kihyun’s stare held you in permanent unseen restraints. He’d shoved his arm chair to the bottom of the bed, and plonked himself down legs splayed. The top three buttons of his shirt undone hand cradling a camera lense, eagerly waiting in your direction.

Kihyun wasn’t satisfied with just the collar, he’d clipped a metal bar to the O-ring of your collar. Matching cuffs had been strapped to your wrists and clipped onto the end of the bar running vertically down your body. There was some leeway with the chains from your cuffs; not much but enough your hands could dip between your legs.

//

“You’re so beautiful. God it’s hard for me not just to come and fuck you like that” he cooed. The pulsing of the recording red light blurring in your vision as your eyes rolled back.

“Ki..hyun please” You whimpered, nerves igniting at the thought of him giving in to you finally.

“Dinner be ready in 5 guys” Jooheon’s voice echoed through the dorm.

“That’s enough baby. Now I need that mouth of yours before we can leave this room. KNEES!”

You were not going to refuse that tone.

His finger licked under your chin angling it upwards. The camera still gripped in his hand, lens momentarily facing away. He stole a sweet kiss, his lips plump and full against yours.

“I really missed you baby, please tell me you’re staying tonight” the sucrose heavy wrapped in his words, the caramelised glint in his blown-out pupils dancing.

“Mmmhmm” you nodded innocent, despite him being hard in front of your face. His eyes had melted to a softer chocolate fondue.

“Good, you’ll be too tired to leave when I’m finished with you”

“Now show me how much I made you want me”

He decided to keep the camera off, there is no way his hands could have maintained any type of composure. His hands were tightly balled fists in your hair. The deep breathless moans seeping past his pursed lips only kept your core vibrating furiously

//

There were many knowing smirky looks while the boy ate. Every time you pressed your thighs together that bit tighter. Every time he purposely had his hand just that tiny bit too high on your thigh. Every time he whispered to you how bad he needed to feel how wet you were and how he could make It worse. Inside your core was screaming but you physically responded backhanding him wherever you could reach. Obviously, the boys joked and scolded you; this only had Kihyun erupting into more giggles knowing full well you couldn’t defend yourself and say why.

Asshole

With that said you couldn’t quite call yourself the innocent party; sitting on his lap; minutely gyrating your hips earned you many harsh sly squeezes and warning stares.

With the bedroom door finally shut, it took Kihyun mere seconds to rid you of his white tee and joggers. You were already whimpering, desperate putty in his hands.

“Think you’ve waited long enough for me?” Kihyun cooed as you melted underneath his sweltering presence into the mattress.

“See how much longer you can wait” he shot in before you could answer. His hands not reaching you once, they stayed firmly either side of you; only his lips and nose grazed your skin. He knew you disapproved by the way you shifted on the sheets, his lips only curled up into a smirk on your chest before taking a firm bite. The sting had you squirming under him, at least the blossoming red will be coverable with clothes

Makes a change

The tip of his nose traced down your stomach in lazy patterns, every warm breathe fanning a new wave of goose bumps.

“Ki…please!” The nips and breaths on your thigh became way too overwhelming.

“Sorry princess” His head hovered over your core lowing air. You shuddered with an irritated groan.

“Sensitive, are we? A week of not being able to cum. Too much for you when you know I’m here Dying to fuck you?”

“Do you even have to ask” you breathed exasperated. Kihyun’s teasing was merciless at the best of times. He’d always have a flurry of cursing thrown his way.

“Now now, don’t make me keep you waiting any longer” blowing again, your body tensed holding on to every bit of sanity it could muster.

“Say please once more and I promise I’ll let you cum…”

Jesus Christ

“On one condition”

“Ugghh anything!” You would have sold your soul at this point. Your complaint caused a light laugh as he looked up from between your legs.

“I get to hear cry out my name? Your videos have drove me crazy this week, I want you so fucked out”

In his pause waiting for you to respond he stripped himself of his shirt. Finally. He necked half a glass of water before dipping back down between your legs. Eyes completely absorbing every ripple of his biceps and shoulder muscles until he’d positioned himself. With the guys preparing for a comeback he was at the gym more and no matter what he did most of the tone ended up being held in his shoulders and after a week of frustration you were entranced to say the least.

Your vision knocked off kilter.

“Shit!” You’d neglected to notice the amount of ice Kihyun had purposely put in his glass. Breathe was swiftly hijack from your chest. The ball of his metal tongue bar still ice cold pressed to your clit had your knuckles brimming white in the sheets, air forcing out through pursed lips. The fatal concoction of the cooled metal and the warmth of his mouth kicking the volume of your shocked moans to way too audible.

“Fuck you sound sexy but you’ve got to be quieter than that, I don’t want to gag you” He bobbed up gulping another mouthful, you could swear you heard even more crunching on ice. Wrists growing tighter in preparation.

//

“Is that good baby? Need to cum yet?”

As if your whines and writhing didn’t tell him this.

“Beg for it and you can have it” he cooed, chin glistening with you. Lips making there way up to yours at an agonisingly slow pace. Each hot kiss strong, liquidated with need. He found the taste between your thigh all too hard to pull himself away from.

“Beg” he asked again through a kiss you struggled to not cry through.

“Kihy…un please, I need you, jesus..Ki…please” whining with a fervent urgency.

“Oh I know you can do better than that princess” he goaded fingers hovering over the desperate core moments from sending those shockwaves you so badly needed.

“Fuck I swear… please let me cum, I’ve needed you so bad, please I’ve been craving your cock all week. Give it to me…I can’t…”

“Better, oh you know I’ll give it to you baby, but you can give this to me first” Your back arched to a perfect crescent, feeling his fingers stroke the front of your walls, that precious velvet goldmine.

Your neck peaked in front of him head rolled back into the sheets. His lips clamping down on you, hot pants fanning a hot breeze across your neck. Palm firm against your core.

“Fu…” your words grew silent. The pressure remaining firm sending longed out waves as the aftershocks started throbbing through your nerves. A growl rolled around his throat, his hips rolling against nothing. He was starting to feel desperate, aching for you.

“God I’ve never needed you so fucking much” he panted into your neck. Tracing his fingers through the mess he’d created. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth; dangerous eyes ravenous for more of you. Your body still recalibrating back down to the earth gave him no response.

“Are you still going to be a good girl for me a few more times?”

“Mmm I wanna be” you shuffled pressure at his hips, his knee pressed against your core allowing you to circle your hips against him. Your hands raced to his belt, fumbling the buckles undone. You needed him out of those tight jeans.

“Needy much” he teased, a small grunt of relief when the tight denim was dropped to the floor. He climbed back on the bed climbing past you to sit against the backboard. Rolling on your front to follow his presence.

“Come and sit on my thigh baby girl” A small pout formed on your lips.

“You think I’d give you my cock that easy huh? Not until your shaking with tears in your eyes”

“Mmm” you hummed your throbbing clit now pressed to his thigh. Both hands resting a loose grip either side of his neck.

“And don’t act like this isn’t one of your favourite things. Use me like the desperate princess I’ve made you”

“Do I get to touch you?” Ghost like touches trickled down his chest underneath the rapid barely controlled movements of his breathing. Doe eyes pleading against his blown eyes that struggled to lift from the shine glistening on his leg.

“Only until I tell you to stop” Your hand had already teased beneath the elastic of his boxers.

“Ugh” God the way the veins in his neck twitched as his head rolled back against the wall. Your hips angled onto his tensed thigh. His grip loosened around the wrist of the hand sliding down his shaft when he’d decided on the pace that wouldn’t shove him off the edge.

“You sound just as pretty with my hand round your dick as when you sing” your breathes mixing, perspirated foreheads pressed together both focused eyes down. You’re hips ground harder, hand speed moving in proportion.

“Tch… stop” Kihyun choked gripping at your wrist again. He guided your hand to the meet the other at the back of his neck.

“Focus on you, I wanna watch you fall apart” He pressed at your chest, straightening your back leaning back. His hand trailing your skin, each fingertip curving round your breasts taking every inch of skin to a heightened state.

“Don’t stop princess, you’re so beautiful. Cum for me baby” He shoved his hands down onto your hips pushing down as your head and arms fell forward onto him. He shoved his hand to the back of your head pushing you into a kiss to keep the moans ravaging out of the room as your muscles pulsed sweetly.

“Mmm I could watch that all day” Kihyun cooed kissing you with a sweetness worthy of diabetes. Your head swirling in climatic bliss. He sat up, maneuverer you beneath him. Your hands default dropping to either side of your head.

“Are you joking?” You panted soul packing up good and ready to leave. The devil stood tall in front of you, smirking down, eyes dark.

“I want one more” his fingers drummed against your wand that you were sure you were about to regret leaving at his.

“Now you have a choice, either I can hold it until your begging me to stop or you can?”

“You hold it”

“Pleeasssee” you added.

“Anything for you”

//

The vibrations had you whining, tears pricking at the side of your ears. Sensitivity hijacking every single nerve ending at your core. Kihyun’s head buried in your neck, low moans fanning your neck as your cries only made him strain harder to not buck into you.

“Colour?” Kihyun asked, his weight not allowing you to move, wand still harshly pressed to you. Your muscles drained of energy, the forced convulsions post climax forcing them to run past empty.

“Yel..low” you whimpered. He showed mercy freeing you of stimulation. He thumbed the corner of your eyes, the clear droplets chased its way over his knuckles.

“Had enough of me yet?” he breathed between gentle kisses down your body, a sweet trail of plump lips.

“Mmmm” you hummed not even in response more a noise of waning bliss.

“So you don’t want my cock after all your whining this week?” Eyes shooting open

“I do, Ki…please I’ve needed you soo bad” your body running on pure desperation.

“And just think all because I released a cover video”

“Roll over ass up add bits!” he ordered. You just about pumped enough strength into your muscles to obey.

“Here baby, save your energy” He rolled up a couple of pillows and plumped them under your stomach. The caramel chocolate of his voice melted and gooey.

“I’ll go slow baby”

You knew this was for him as well as you. He thrived on working you up to the point he’d be painfully on edge without even having you. He needed enough left to shove you into bliss once more with him.

Noise was no longer a concern, all you had left was breathless pants and groans.

“I never wanna believe how good you feel” Kihyun managed choking through his words, his hips light in their juts into you. Hips controlled by his hands secured at your hips, your head rolling hard into the mattress. Colour draining from your knuckles attempting to blend into the white sheets scrunched around them. The slow ascent torturous as it was sweet.

“Baby….” You choked.

“Mmm”

“Please go faster” you whined, the slow build up in your muscles was aching every fibre past the point you could cope.

“Why’s that princess?” Kihyun slowed his hips the demon.

“Want to…cum…please”

“You know you can’t be quiet when I fuck you like that” …

“Don’t…care…gag me” you managing panting through pursed lips. His hips stuttered in approval, a growl vibrating in his throat.

“Well… how can I refuse”

“Ugh” you both groaned in unison, disapproving of the emptiness you both felt.

Silicone ball consuming the inside of your mouth, leather taut across your cheek.

“Look at me baby” You were cross legged pillows hugged at your chest. Longing glazed over eyes looking up at him, hair fallen over your face. The red tinted skin around your eyes proof of your complete undoing.

“You are soo pretty like this, my fucked out good girl… Get back with your ass up” Thank god you were gagged. The now muffled squeal would have certainly drawn attention from the dorm. He spared no energy going easy on you, his hips snapping into you.

“Is this what you wanted? …Want you to cum with me, Okay!” Your nod into the mattress was not seen, your okay signal with your hands was. Your right hand flew to the side of his thigh, red crescents soon dented in his skin.

“Close baby?” You were falling apart quicker than hips could keep up.

“Fuck, keep doing that” hips slowing when you pulsed your walls around him.

“Mmm like that… okay…baby ready?” He didn’t need your hand signal, your body stiffened. Your concentration holding on to his ever-becoming sporadic hip thrusts. You waited for his delectable deep as fuck low groan and his body to still before you let the last wave of muscle spasms ravage your muscles of every last contraction. Long drawn out pulses drawing more water to your eyes, teeth gripping harder on the rubber.

The perspiration suddenly felt warmer under his palm curving round your behind, squeezing harshly. He half collapsed, more of his skin fusing across your back for a beat before completely falling onto the bed. You fell beside him, the ability to formulate words was still beyond you. Kihyun rolled to face you snuggling a kiss into your neck.

“Want a bath beautiful?” asking while stroking the peak curve of your hips where his fingers had been planted. As the oxytocin fled your system the soreness from the bruises that would surely blossom over the next few days nudged your skin.

“I’ve still got a couple of your fave bath bombs, and I’ll bring you some Vodka aaannnnnnd I’ll maybe even make you breakfast in the morning”

“Babe I’m going to need dinner by the time my body will work enough to leave the bed” you whined dramatically.

“But yes, love yooouu” you added, ridiculous accomplished smirk wreaking havoc on his face as the buckle of his belt secure the trouser back round his hips.

[smartguyreviewed]

1x7 - A Little Knowledge

Original air date: May 7, 1997

Hello there, friends. How are we holding up during these “unprecedented times?” I am currently holding up by pretty much being high 18/7, not sleeping and obsessing over a show that pretty much nobody talks about because I am that bored.

Really, I do want to thank anyone who takes the time to read this blog and/or drop a like. I started this blog because I enjoyed reading reviews of Lizzie McGuire and Boy Meets World. And then I thought of how not that many black sitcoms are pretty much ever really discussed. I watched Smart Guy so much when I was a kid but didn’t realize how important it was to even be watching it because we had so many other black television shows during my childhood, the complete opposite of how it is now. I always thought about even making a YouTube channel reviewing that black ass nostalgia that I love so much, but since I’m in the ugly phase of growing my starter locs, I figured I’d blog for now. 

Alright! There’s my intro. I really did mean it, but I had no idea how else to segue into the opening for this episode. By the way, if anyone is a super meticulous asshole and thinks the numbering of the episodes is off, I was honestly confused because Disney omitted a whole ass episode of the show, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the numbering of the episodes is different here but nowhere else on the web. The first season is already less than 10 episodes, so whatever.

Okay, so we open to Floyd about to do his books but he needs the little precocious calculator to help him out. This triggers me because I still have not done my taxes even though the deadline was extended. Luckily, it doesn’t appear that the Hendersons have any timely bills due but they are broke. After TJ adds up all the numbers, Floyd sees he is definitely not in the black. 

Because the episode is about money, naturally, both of Floyd’s grown children need pricey things all of a sudden. Yvette comes down and asks for a coat to replace this...thing that she’s wearing because it’s clearly ill-fitting. Floyd says he can buy her a new coat, as long as she’s not particular as to which winter she gets it in.

Up next is our Marcus, asking for something totally egregious. At least Yvette was asking for weather appropriate clothing. Marcus is asking Floyd for a $1500 bike. And now I’m confused. Why the hell would Marcus of all people need a bike? If he’s really trying his damndest to get the girls, I thought the band alone served that purpose. Regardless, Marcus needs it and he’s a teenager so the world is going to end tomorrow if he doesn’t get this deathcycle of his. He even tries to manipulate his dad by showing him a photo of Floyd on his bike. I actually think it’s cute how Floyd lights up at the sight of younger him. Maybe he met his deceased wife during these years? 

Floyd breaks out of memory lane and reminds Marcus that he, a human parent, wants the finer things also, including the chance to see his old friends at his high school reunion but that doesn’t seem to have a snowball’s chance in hell of happening. Yeah, because Floyd has to put food on the table for a woman and three guys (yes, I’m including Mo and guys eat a lot and I don’t wanna hear shit about how girls eat a lot too because guys just eat more and that’s a fact) and school all of his children. No room for the finer things.

He then says that Yvette and Marcus can buy what they want but simply have to get jobs. Marcus balks at the idea and says he wouldn’t want work to interrupt his studies. Yvette and TJ have a nice little kii over this since hahaha “Marcus is dumb,” hahaha.

We cut to TJ in his room attempting to strategize ways for the Henderson clan to save money while watching a bootleg version of Jeopardy!. Marcus comes in on the phone with Craig, the guy selling the bike, and convinces him to not sell it, even though Marcus only has 4.2% of the funds. Yvette barges in and is pissed at her annoying little brothers for not unlocking her door when they’re done with the bathroom. See, they share a bathroom in this episode. In another episode, Yvette gets her own bathroom built...somewhere because she’s tired of sharing with them. This bathroom is never mentioned again. In another episode, Marcus temporarily moves to the attic. I just wonder exactly how the Henderson house is built because it seems like there’s so much space yet so little space? 

The boys aren’t listening to Yvette however, because she stank. She credits this funk to the job she just got at the Cluck Bucket, “yanking the gushy stuff out of chickens,” as Marcus eloquently puts it. She brags, saying she makes $100 a week, which is obviously $1000 a week in 90s money. 

After TJ proposes that Yvette cut Marcus’s hair, Marcus realizes TJ is attempting to optimize their family’s finances. TJ really is doing a lot for a 10 year old here. Normally, he’s being extremely rude to them, but in this episode, he’s trying to use his intelligence to fix a problem that he has no business worrying about. Clearly, this intelligence is a gift and a curse. I’m about to be 29 and I worry all the time about things I can’t even control along with the things I can. Imagine being 10, gifted AF and stressing only about adult things you can’t control.

Marcus actually delivers good advice this episode, most likely unbeknownst to him. He commands TJ to turn off his brain and stop worrying because this is something he can’t fix. And Marcus is right. A 10 year old has zero reasons to be trying to balance the family checkbook. It would have been better if he threw a Gameboy at him and told him that’s his homework instead.

But this is TJ and he is the determinator AKA hard-headed. Bootleg Jeopardy! is about to end but the host announces a junior version of the show. TJ checks all the boxes. Youngster? Check. Living in the D.C. area? Check. In desperate need of $25k? Double check!

TJ and Marcus are back home and go over how they’re going to break the news to Floyd since obviously he wouldn’t have given TJ permission to audition if they asked. Floyd seems pissed at first when they tell him but Marcus makes sure to place emphasis on how TJ kicked ass. Floyd is proud now, even though a few moments ago, he was about to go full Papa Bear.

The next day, Piedmont is buzzing about TJ’s television debut but he’s confused because he only told his fam. We then cut to Marcus blabbing to some girl about how he can get her a seat next to him so she can give him a handjob on the sly. (Of course, we don’t even see said girl at the show.) TJ tells Marcus he didn’t want everyone to know because, understandably, now there’s more pressure on him. Marcus responds to this by putting even more pressure on him, telling Craig that TJ is going to win him the bike. Then he puts a damn anvil on it by telling Craig to raise the price to $1700 and he’ll just take the bike now. This will end well.

TJ, under immense pressure because the show is filming in 6 hours at this point (film/TV people, if you’re reading, feel free to say if this is even normal for it to move this quickly especially for an underage guest?), is up late at night studying his ass off and high off legal coke. He’s awoken Marcus who is wondering why on earth TJ would be up this early studying for a quiz television show that has a large monetary prize and they’re broke. He wants TJ to get some sleep by he’s in the zone because he had 20 cups of coffee. After a drug fueled rant, he just passes out. 

6 hours later and TJ is still high. Floyd chalks it up to nerves before TJ starts sprinting around the set. Marcus shows up, announcing he just chained up his new bike to a dumpster. This will end well. He checks in on TJ who is still coked up and not coming down anytime soon. His dad calls him over to meet the other contestants which include Dylan Roof and Yung Sharpay.

After the kids are ushered onto set, Floyd goes to the other hoity toity parents, bragging about their kids’ accomplishments. He dismisses them and says TJ actually has a life. Floyd, you dick! Afterwards, the show begins. The host is opening and says he believes that children are our future. Floyd and Marcus are backstage and in true black parent fashion, once TJ is announced, they lose their shit!

The game is now underway and Yung Sharpay and TJ are caught up. Dylan Roof is pretty much just there because he’s so far behind that it doesn’t even matter. Amy loudly tells TJ that he has a broken leg and they’re loading the shotgun because she just caught up to him. Of course, nobody heard this even though she was loud as hell. Also, racial implications much?

Yvette comes late in her work uniform and is hurriedly trying to tell Marcus a bit of info he’ll want to act fast on, but naturally, he shushes her to listen to the game that TJ is about to possibly lose. Yvette is also a petty asshole, so she doesn’t even try to tell him again. They cut to break and Yvette announces then that Marcus’s bike is gone. Turns out, locking it to a dumpster isn’t the best idea because some guy in a garbage truck stole it dragged the dumpster away. Marcus is pissed and lets slip that he paid $1700 for it which gets him in trouble because he just told Floyd that he was taking it on a test drive. Then the rest of the truth spews out. Marcus says he wanted something from the money TJ was going to win and oh mama is Floyd pissed because he naturally expects the worst from Marcus always and thinks he forced TJ to be in the competition which wasn’t even the case. Floyd tells Marcus he’s going to talk to TJ and warns him to “brace himself” for when he gets back. Yvette gleefully says she’s going to get chalk for his body outline. What did Marcus do to everyone to make them hate him so much? TJ does way shittier things than him and he’s still held in high regard. Hmm.

Floyd comes over to TJ to check in and lets him know that he’s aware of what’s going on. TJ, who has only consumed coffee and chocolate for the past few hours, is now dizzy. Floyd has to remind TJ that he has plenty of time to worry about rent and bills and student loans and credit card debt and finding a therapist and the pressure to have it “together” by the time you’re 30 which is crazy unrealistic. Good lesson and one of the few times I don’t wanna strangle TJ. Understandably, with the pressure off, TJ wants to dipset. The host, while seeing TJ and Floyd leaving, says they signed a contract so somebody needs to fill in for TJ. Cut to one of the funniest scenes in the show, hands down.

The question is how much did Thomas Jefferson, another TJ, pay for the Louisiana Purchase? This is word for word what Marcus-as-TJ says.

“Well uh, let’s see. In DC, the most you can take out of the ATM is $300 and you would wanna hold back a $20 in case something comes up, so I’m gonna say $280, Hugh.”

Yvette’s reaction says it all.

In the end, we see Yvette at the Cluck Bucket, putting on her functional gray pea coat that she probably got from Contempo Casuals or something. Marcus is the janitor now because he has to work off his debt to Craig and because remember, Marcus is a dark-skinned buffoon and couldn’t get the same job as Yvette for some reason. Whatever. I wonder what Yung Sharpay did with her prize money.

Stuff I Noticed:

- Yvette’s jacket. What is this?

- Marcus’s face for Lil’ Dylan and Yung Sharpay versus TJ. I love black families.

White lady on the left does not approve.

- No Mo this episode! :(

[trans-shuichisaihara]

pregame!Kaito goes for his interview. There’s more than was shown on the tape.

warnings for mentions of abuse, homophobia, and depression/caregiver fatigue

[Read on AO3]

Kaito's breath came out in short, heavy huffs, heart pounding as if he'd just run a marathon. Across from him, the head interviewer's only response was to quirk an eyebrow.

"That was quite the passionate display. But you can stop lying now."

Panic flickered in his chest, and Kaito's immediate response was to double down. "Wha--No! I meant what I said!"

She was unfazed. "Now now, don't get so defensive. I understand, you're just saying what you think we want to hear. You must really want to participate in the next season of Danganronpa, huh?" She gave him a warm smile, no trace of mockery in the curl of her lips. "So that's why I want to hear your real reason. I want to find real fans, not just those who are looking to feed their bloodlust."

She leaned forward, chin on her palms. "So, tell me about your life. What drew you to Danganronpa?"

Kaito hesitated. A torrent of conflicted emotions rushed through his body, filling every crevice with the desire to run away. He didn't have to answer. He could leave, return to his daily life as if he'd never even applied in the first place.

... The idea seized his heart with the icy grip of despair.

He averted his eyes and swallowed. It took another few minutes to get any words out, but she was patient, saying nothing as the room was consumed in an awkward silence.

"Have you ever regretted meeting someone?"

She didn't answer his question, and that was probably for the best--it was rhetorical anyway. He continued. "Dad worked in one of those office jobs where he regularly put in twelve hour days. He'd come home and take his stress out on everything in our two-bedroom apartment. At first, it was just the furniture, but then... Well, it escalated.

"Apparently he caught Mom with another man one day. He came home in a rage, breaking anything she owned or used regularly. Wasn't much, since she'd given up on replacing stuff he broke in earlier fits." He paused, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. "When he ran out of stuff, he turned on me. It... It was the first time he'd beaten me. Probably 'cause Mom was always protecting me."

He clenched his fists. "... She never came back. Last I heard, she filed for divorce then married the other guy. Never came to rescue me--guess it was too much trouble." It still hurt, and talking about it was like sticking his hand into a pile of smoldering ashes.

"Managed to live with him for a few years. Middle school was hell though. I spent as much time out of the house as I could to stay out of his way--of course, without being out so long that he got mad about that too. Studied a lot, got into a good high school. Thought the business school I chose would make him happy." He shook his head. "Always seemed like nothing would make him happy though."

As he poured his heart out into the open, she nodded along. He was glad that despite her having a notepad in front of her, she didn't write anything about what he was saying.

He pushed onward. "Got curious in high school. About... About other guys. You know?" He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I, uh, looked up some stuff on the internet, and didn't clear my search history. Never been that good with computers, didn't even think about it.

"So he found out, and reacted by beating the shit outta me. As if that would fix whatever was wrong with my head or something. He ended up breaking my nose." He paused, tracing the crooked cartilage. "I was cowering on the floor--hoping he would stop kicking me, blood dripping everywhere--and I just... had this sudden realization that I was done."

He inhaled, then slowly exhaled. "I left that night and never went back. Should've done that long before, but... He was my dad, you know? I knew he just had a lot goin' on. It's still hard to blame him, even though I know it wasn't right."

At some point, a bottle of water was placed in front of him. He finally took it into his hand, cracking the lid off with a sharp twist and downing a third of it. He still had more to say, so his throat was thankful for the cool, refreshing sensation it brought.

Honestly, he hadn't expected to spend so much time talking about his dad. Perhaps it was because he never really had the opportunity to get all those emotions out properly.

"Anyway, so I ended up taking myself to the hospital after throwing some essentials in a bag. I was sittin' in the waiting room, plugging my nose with a tissue, and that's... That's when I met him. Ouma Kokichi."

If he hadn't started to zone out, lost in his memories, he might've noticed how her hand twitched towards her pen--ultimately, she didn't pick it up, but her eyes shone with interest as the conversation shifted.

"He was havin' this panic attack or something, and so I started talkin' to him to help him calm down while we waited. And, well, I thought he was kinda cute, so... When we both got released at the same time too, it kinda felt like fate, you know? One thing led to another, and we decided to rent this crappy one-bedroom apartment together."

He sighed. "I dunno, things just got so intense so fast. Like don't get me wrong, I care about him a lot, like, a lot a lot. But... It's hard. I ended up dropping out of school so that I could work and pay for our apartment."

"What about him?" she asked, her first question finally breaking the flow of his monologue.

Kaito frowned. "He... He can't really go outside all that much. It stresses him out, so he stays inside unless he really has to leave. But he's doing some online school stuff, so..."

She hummed. "Sounds unfair. You have to do all the heavy lifting while he gets to complete his coursework at his leisure. Say, how many hours are you working?"

"Uhh..." He hadn't quite thought about it. "I have a few different part time jobs. They don't really like hiring high school aged teens full time. Labor laws and all that. But... it's probably more than 40 hours a week, if I had to guess."

She nodded. "So after the stress started to build up, you turned to escapism?"

The accuracy of her statement nerved him out. "... I guess you could put it like that. There was a used copy of that spin-off game, uh, Ultra Despair Girls. Never really played Danganronpa, but the back said something about destroying those weird bears, Monokumas or whatever, and... It was kinda appealing, for the action aspect." He scratched the back of his neck. "Didn't expect it to be so... relatable. Ended up bawling like a baby on my couch at four in the morning because of that first boss battle.

"So, uh, I decided to give the series a chance. Haven't seen a lot, just the games really. Watching other people play them is free, after all. Usually just listened while I worked--that was really the only time I could find for it." He couldn't watch it at home, after all; Kokichi hated anything to do with Danganronpa, and the thought of being told off for consuming it made Kaito's heart feel like it was going to rip itself in two.

"It was like... Even though I wasn't personally playing it, I could tell why it was so popular. It really does bring hope to people, makes 'em see that even they can make a difference. Got me thinking the same thing after a while."

He gave her a wry smile. "But I guess you've sorta guess that it didn't work out like I wanted it to." She didn't respond, but that was fine. "I thought if I worked hard enough, maybe I could help Kokichi. I tried to ease all his worries and take care of him so he could focus on getting better. But..."

He shook his head. "It just... never happened. Again, nothing I did was good enough. I just... I just wanna be able to help people, to be good enough for once in my life. So when I saw that you guys did these live action DR games, well... I just started thinking about how nice it would be if I was able to fix everything like one of those protags in the games. Befriend others, watch them grow in a positive way instead of staying stagnant... Sounded a whole lot better than the daily grind."

He let out a shallow laugh. "Horrible, isn't it? Running away from my responsibilities for such a selfish reason. It'll break my grandma's heart if I end up dying, after all. But..." He trailed off, biting back the truth that death sounded better than returning to his fatigued life just outside the room.

She once again hummed, and finally moved to pick up her pen. She clicked it, but didn't write anything when she brought it to the paper. "So, what you would want is to help others achieve their true potential? To make them feel like they can do anything? A cool, mentor type... Hm... I could definitely see a place for you."

Despite himself, when she wrote HERO on the paper, his heart swelled with genuine hope.

[thedistantstorm]

Come Together 03

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Devrim Kay/Marc

Warnings: ridiculous romancing, cursing, smut (this one is a bit nsfw)

“A young city planner set his eyes on an older militiaman. He was unkempt and terribly forward. The militiaman had class. He wasn’t interested.”

“Clearly,” Marc tells their friends. “That’s why they decided to get married.”

(A story told in bits and pieces.)

Chapters: 01 | 02

-/

Marc kisses with what he calls passion, but it's lacking finesse. Every flick of his tongue is done insistently, desperate for more, downright sloppy in Devrim's estimation. Devrim himself might have gone a minute without a significant other, but Marc doesn't strike him as a man who goes long between relationships without a plaything. This is either a ploy or he's sorely in need of proper coaching.

He's social, his nights start out with a group, and if he's lucky, ends mano-a-mano. Not that he doesn't enjoy a night in - clearly. That's why he's nudging Devrim's head back against his sofa and pretending like he isn't thinking about straddling the older man while he curls up beside him.

Devrim lets him guide things, waiting, seeing how far the younger of them wants to push. He can't deny that there's a certain wantonness to how eager Marc is for it.

There's a moment when he's panting into Devrim's neck that the militiaman brushes his knuckles down the side of Marc's throat and he whines, high and sweet.

"Fuck," Marc curses, nipping Devrim in retaliation, but not hard enough to bruise. He's learning, Devrim thinks to himself. Perhaps he isn't as hopeless as he'd thought. "Fuck, I wanna see you under me."

Well. That's not what Devrim was expecting.

Determined not to have this conversation - it's been three weeks, this is not ending in the bedroom - Devrim lets his hand drift down Marc's side and to his hip, lacing a finger through his belt loop and giving a little tug.

The barest insinuation has Marc climbing atop him, careful not to grind down. Devrim fixes that with another innocent touch down his spine, hands splaying on Marc's lower back like it's commonplace. He allows himself a throaty groan when their sexes grind against each other, casually threads his fingers through Marc's hair. Tugs.

He comes undone immediately, his brows pulling together, eyes fluttering shut and rolling back into his head all at once. 

Devrim chuckles when Marc slumps against his shoulder, giddy and breathless. He whacks the other side of partner's chest with the back of his hand. "What're you laughing about?"

"I thought that might have been an erogenous zone," Dev deduces aloud.

"Sorry to be predictable, but it clearly was," He huffs, sans bravado.

"No disappointment here. That face you made was worth any frustration I'll suffer." 

Marc rolls off him, flopping bonelessly against the couch. "Really, you don't want-"

Blue eyes pin him where he lies, sparkling with amusement. "It's fine." Marc slumps gratefully into the cushions. It earns him a real laugh. Devrim manages despite it, "You - heh - you look like you could use some time to recover."

Marc kicks his thigh but doesn't move, and Devrim only laughs louder.

-/

Their next foray comes after an expensive dinner - Devrim knew French, so Marc couldn't surprise him with frog legs like very obviously been hoping. Every time Devrim speaks in the love language, he watches Marc's pupils dilate. The lower he speaks, the more the effect becomes immediate. He drags them back to his flat - a fancy high-rise in the Peregrine District.

A combination of that, excellent wine, a very romantic jazz ensemble in the corner of the restaurant, and the rapidly deepening kiss Devrim bestows upon him in the elevator has Marc keyed up, hands nearly fumbling his keys.

He lets them drop to the floor with a clatter, not bothering to turn on the lights when they enter, pushing Devrim against the back of the door and sinking to his knees.

"I owe you," He whispers up at him, letting his fingers trail up the musculature of Devrim's thighs before hovering over his belt buckle.

"That seems to be the case," Devrim agrees, swallowing thickly.

Marc makes short work of his trousers, pushing them down his hips before tracing his rather interested erection through his pants. Devrim sighs when he gives up the ghost and pulls them down too, licking his palm and wrapping it around his partner's hot, velvety flesh, guiding him into his mouth without further ado.

For a man so usually impatient, Marc takes his time, swirling his tongue around Devrim's tip, being mindful of how to inflict a guttural groan, what makes him clench his fists at his sides, or tip his head back against the wall. He lingers at the parts Devrim seems to enjoy, drawing them out, letting the sensation build. 

As he approaches his peak, Devrim tries to warn him, but Marc is insistent, palming his rear instead and forcing the gentleman to come down his throat with a muttered "fuck!"

"You like that?" He asks after, smirking as Devrim takes a moment, breathing hard, leaning against the door.

"I'll admit," Devrim says with a sigh, "That was," He clears his throat, breaking off with another heavy sigh as Marc swallows, grinning, making a big show of licking his lips and flashing his teeth.

"You are such a prude," Marc tells him. "Let me guess, you don't return the favor." There's no malice there, Marc's simply pumping him for information. In fact, most of his cheekiness is used to mask his nerves and self-doubt, Devrim notices.

So instead of a direct answer, he puts his clothing to rights, dragging an enraptured Marc to his own sofa and pulls him in close. "I guess you'll find out," He whispers.

Marc shivers.

-/

Devrim accompanies him to a work event, a true mixer this time. He's equal parts over the moon and terrified. Marc has only made one very large mistake since coming to work for the City Planner's office, and that was dating a superior, very early on in his tenure.

The other man has since moved into the private sector, but he's always invited to events like this, and he always makes a pass. It's a superiority thing. And Marc hates it with a passion.

Usually he gets nice and obliterated, then carries on happy-go-lucky like nothing has changed. The obliteration becomes a small bender, he has a good greasy meal around noon the next day, then sleeps until Monday morning, wakes up right as rain and pretends like nothing's happened.

But now he has Devrim. The last man he'd brought to one of these… Marc shudders. It was over a year ago, but that had been a breakup he still only remembers in bits and pieces, something about being called an insecure brat and then being dragged to his door by an upset cabby. (He'd made formal apologies to both, after, and took better care to stay just sober enough to make it home.)

The nerves both paralyze him and fuel his ability to consume liquor, and the fact that this party celebrates an eight-month project he'd been the lead on doesn't help. Devrim stays at his elbow, cordial, polite,and dashingly handsome, excusing himself with a hand at the small of Marc's back to go see about hors d'oeuvres for them both.

As luck would have it, that's when his old boss appears. He throws back a shot easy, flashing a toothy smile. Before, it had mostly been about getting flirting, getting Marc riled up, maybe a dance. Now, it was all that and a job proposal.

Marc does his best to be kind but disinterested, and it doesn't have the 'buzz off' effect he's going for. He can't shake the guy before Devrim returns. It's going to be an issue, he stresses internally. Devrim is too polite, he won't make a scene, but he'll be angry later.

He's fucked, Marc thinks. The whole thing is fucking ruined. He knew he should have gone alone, but things were going well and-

Devrim places a hand on the back of his neck, thumb brushing against the edge of his collar and clammy skin.

"I don't believe we've met," He says, effectively interrupting whatever Marc's pursuer is saying, Marc himself hasn't been paying attention: the sound of his heartbeat in his ears is too loud. Devrim extends a hand to the other man. They shake, but before his stupid ex-boss can pull away, Devrim leans in, speaking innocently, "You wouldn't be trying to upset my Marc, now would you?"

His jaw must hang, and it makes his ex laugh. "Wow, you're Marc's new beau," He slaps Marc's shoulder, and the temperature in the room must drop about forty degrees. He finishes the rest of his liquor to keep warm, waving down the bartender for another whiskey while he's asked, "Where'd you find this one, Marcus? The cover of a magazine?"

"Our paths crossed through work," Devrim informs him, his voice mellow, almost light, really. Marc thinks about texting his secretary now, he's going to need until at least Tuesday to drink away all memory of this trainwreck-to-be.

"Oh, how sweet!" He's interested. Of course, the ex is interested. He's always interested. One time, he'd stolen a date from Marc, right in front of his eyes. "What do you do?"

While Marc frames his temples with his hands, leaning over the bar from where he sits on the barstool, Devrim answers, "I'm City Militia."

"Wow." He knows that tone. That's the appraising one he uses to reel someone in.

"It's not all that glamorous, I assure you," Devrim croons, tilting toward the bar. He gestures, "Say, can I get you a drink?" He asks, and Marc feels tears blur his vision.

Fuck, he thinks, on a loop. He's going to need the entirety of next week to get over this. He is not drunk enough to handle this situation. Finishing his new drink in three swallows doesn't help any, either. 

"What do you do with the militia?"

His ex sounds closer now. Marc lets his head drop to the counter, cradled by the cross of his arms. The bartender doesn't ask as she passes with their order, just refills the glass in front of him almost to the top.

"Mostly civilian patrol and Tower duty in peacetime," Devrim says, innocuously. "But," His voice drops an octave and every nerve in Marc's body tingles. "You see, I'm a sniper. The Gentleman Sniper, they call me." Marc dares a bleary look over his right shoulder. Devrim stands between him and the other man, blocking Marc's view entirely. 

"I've always enjoyed the thrill of lining up the perfect shot," Devrim continues. "I have a great deal of patience, not to be taken lightly. There is something to be said for a sniper's observation skills as well. You have to be able to read a situation, understand what your target is thinking." He lifts his drink to his lips and take a sip, smirking, "I am good at that. Good enough to know you've been looking at Marc here for the majority of the evening, and that your decision to approach when I stepped away was more than mere coincidence."

"That's not-" The stammer comes from the other side of Devrim. Marc turns, in time to hear him say, "You're just a plaything to him, that's how he operates."

Devrim chuckles. It's sinister, not sarcastic. "I don't think I am. And even if I were, at least his standards have gotten better." At the resounding silence in their little pocket of the bar, he follows that up with a dismissal. "You have your drink," He nods down to the scotch in the other man's clutches. "Enjoy your evening."

The feather-light touch is back at his nape, and the tears come even easier than when he thought all was lost. He keeps them at bay, but not the tremors they come with.

Instead of giving in though, he finishes his whiskey with a flourish and gives Devrim a grin full of watery bravado.

"Say the word and we'll go," Devrim tells him, gentle as anything, lips at his temple.

"I won't let him ruin my party," Marc says, willing himself to sound like he's still having a pleasant time. He meets Devrim's eyes to prove he's not lying - though he is, through his teeth. "Besides, that was hot. Really hot." That part is true, at least. He didn't feel like a child bring protected. He felt valued, equal. The right kind of belonging. Not something he's used to.

Devrim's ears are pink. It's adorable enough to make him forget his concerns for a moment. "I worried I might have overstepped," He says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No. That was amazing," He says, honestly. "You're amazing."

-/

Marc gets absolutely annihilated. Devrim isn't expecting anything different. He'd expected such an outcome even without the interference of the inbred idiot who attempted to ruin their evening. He manages to steer him to his own flat before the whole thing goes to hell, but it's close. Marc is weepy the entire way, slurring apologies and self-disparaging commentary.

"You can go," Marc tells him, shoulder bouncing off the wall as he stumbles toward the washroom. "I'll be- oh fuck-"

There's no way he can leave him in this state, either. Not that he's feeling particularly inclined to. He's very much aware that Marc was rattled going into the evening, and now that he knows why, leaving would only feed his insecurity.

Following him into the washroom leaves him in an unpleasant predicament, the younger man expelling alcohol and bile mostly in the direction of the toilet. He's certainly no stylist, but he manages to locate a hair tie and pull Marc's lengthy hair back into a neat-enough ponytail despite his hiccoughing retches. Marc swats at him - in gratitude, Devrim is sure - before returning his grip to the porcelain.

When all is said and done, he's still terribly drunk, but manages to suffer through brushing his teeth. Devrim uses some mouthwash himself and drags his partner to his bed without complication.

In the dark, Marc clings to his hand, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry," He apologizes, frantically. "I never should have-"

"It's alright." Devrim strokes his forehead.

"No, it's not. It's not like that. I used to be like that and maybe - maybe I wanted it to be a fun little tryst when we started, but it's not like that," He rambles, imploring Devrim to believe him. "It isn't, I swear. I don't want you to think I'm just fucking with you, Dev, really, I-" Two fingers are pressed against his lips, effectively cutting him off in the dark. He feels Devrim move, feels strong arms wrap around him, pull him into a solid chest that smells like sandalwood cologne.

"Hush, darling," Devrim tells him. "I know. You gave that up weeks ago."

"I want you to like me," He whines pitifully, tears staining his partner's undershirt. "I don't want you to think it's a game. He said-"

"Whatever that wanker said," Devrim growls firmly, "I promise you, I do not believe. Whomever you might have been when you were involved him, you are not that man now."

"How do you know?"

Devrim kisses him, bringing the arm that's slung over Marc's side up so he can palm his cheek. Tears fall onto his fingers before he pulls back, pressing his lips to Marc's forehead as well.

"Because. You've had plenty of opportunities to push the envelope and you haven't. You've gone out of your way to offer me an out, even tonight, when it was a celebration of your admittedly impressive achievements. All for my comfort." He wipes the tears from Marc's cheeks with his thumb. "I tread carefully into relationships, my dear Marc, I assure you. If I thought you had anything but good intentions you wouldn't have gotten a first date, much less a do-over for what was honestly a heinous outing."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" He mumbles, but it doesn't sound nearly as sad.

"Not on your life," Devrim assures him. 

He strokes his hair, nudging Marc's crown beneath his chin. "You're going to be hurting in the morning."

"Worth it," He hums. "Sorry in advance for whining. I'm going to be horrible, I can feel it."

"Oh, I think I'll manage."

"What, you gonna leave me alone to suffer?"

"I figured I'd take you to breakfast, assuming you have a shirt that buttons up all the way I could borrow."

[elisajdb]

Life With You: XX

Part Twenty:

 Family Reunion: Part One

  “I won’t have you lie to me again! Where is my husband?!”

 Master Roshi wished he checked the caller ID before answering the phone. If he had checked, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone and he wouldn’t be talking to ChiChi right now. The woman sounded as angry as when he last saw her nearly a year ago. “I don’t know.”

 “Liar!” ChiChi barked through the phone. “Goku was revived yesterday.”

 “How do you know that?” Master Roshi didn’t call her after he talked to Goku. Bulma didn’t either.

 “I saw the sky turn dark. I know what happens when the dragon balls are used. It’s been twenty-four hours. He should be here. Now tell me the truth. Where is Goku?!”

 “Why would you think I would know?” Master Roshi shouted back.

 “Because you kept the secret of what happened to my husband and son from me for a day! You told me Goku wouldn’t be wished back until he completes his training! He was wished back yesterday!”

 Master Roshi rubbed his temple. Gyu-Mao didn’t know about the dragon balls. It had to be Goku who told ChiChi what happens when they’re used. He wished his former student kept his mouth shut on that topic. “We did wish Goku back yesterday. He told us the Saiyans are coming today and he’ll be late.”

 “You…..” the anger disappeared from ChiChi’s voice. “You spoke to Goku? How is he? How did he sound?”

 At least she wasn’t angry anymore. “Sound cheerful as usual. I don’t know why Goku isn’t back yet but he’ll be here. Just stay home and he’ll be there after the fight is over.”

 “I’m coming over there!” ChiChi announced. “And don’t even think of turning your home into a capsule and moving off that island. I know that trick!”

 “No, wait!!” Master Roshi reached out to ChiChi but she already hung up the phone. “Dammit.”

“Was that ChiChi?” Bulma asked. She, Oolong and Puar were surrounded by the TV waiting for any breaking news of the Saiyans arrival.

 “Yeah,” Master Roshi hung up the phone. “She’s on her way.” He sighed. “She sounds as ornery as ever. The past year hasn’t calmed her at all.”

 “Well, she did go a year without her husband and son,” Bulma tried to emphasize with ChiChi. “Maybe she’ll calm down when she sees Goku and Gohan again.”

 “Are you sure we’re gonna know about the Saiyans arrival this way?” Oolong flicked the remote on the TV for any breaking news. “Goku’s brother arrived without any notice.”

 “Raditz was looking for Goku. These Saiyans are coming to get the dragon balls and kill all of us. They are gonna draw attention.”

 “Where is Goku?” Oolong asked. “We wished him back yesterday!”

 Master Roshi rubbed his beard. “Goku did say he will be late. Piccolo and the others will have to hold off until Goku returns.”

 Oolong snorted. “Assuming everyone is alive when Goku gets back.”

 “Oolong!” Puar scolded him. “How can you say that?”

 “I’m being truthful. What fight have we won without Goku? When you guys went after King Piccolo, the Old Man and Choazu died. How do you know it won’t happen again?”

 Bulma and Master Roshi couldn’t answer that question for they wondered the same thing. 

ChiChi was not happy when she hung up the phone. “Master Roshi wished Goku to life yesterday but Goku told him he will be late and the Saiyans will come today.”

 “Today?” Gyu-Mao didn’t like that. The news Goku will be late and the Saiyans will arrive today left a bad feeling in Gyu-Mao’s gut. “That’s a month early and why do you wanna go to Master Roshi’s place? Goku will come here after the fight.”

 ChiChi shook her head. She knew better. “No, he won’t. Goku will go to Master Roshi’s after the fight and he’ll expect me there. It’s what he wanted.”

 Goku and ChiChi returned home after spending a day at Gyu-Mao’s castle. Aki dropped off food from the local farms and was invited to stay for dinner. Gohan loved the attention he received from his grandpa and father’s friend. ChiChi worried Gohan will be spoiled, but one look at Gohan’s sweet smile at the attention, melted her worries.

 “Gohan enjoyed himself.” Goku remarked to their son in ChiChi’s arms.

 ChiChi caressed Gohan’s hair. He had dried food stains on his clothes and face. He was a messy eater tonight. “Gohan needs a bath.” ChiChi stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the water in the sink and undressed Gohan. “He’s wearing more than he ate.”

 Goku stood by the door watching ChiChi prepare Gohan for his bath. Dinner was great. Aki was fun company but his discussion of King Piccolo was still on Goku’s mind. “I didn’t know how far King Piccolo’s terror reached,” Goku admitted. “I was consumed with getting stronger and avenging Krillin and Master Roshi’s deaths. I didn’t know how scared everyone was of him.”

 Gohan played in the soapy water as ChiChi wiped him clean. “King Piccolo scared everyone when he put a target on all martial artists. The whole village was on high alert. Dad didn’t believe King Piccolo and his minions will settle for only killing martial artists. All able bodied men were on night and day shifts to keep watch over anyone coming into the kingdom. The ones that weren’t on shift worked with Dad to designate safe zones for everyone in case we had to evacuate the village.”

 ChiChi pulled a clean Gohan from the sink. Goku helped by offering ChiChi a towel to wrap Gohan in. “I’m glad we never had to implement an evacuation plan from the village.” ChiChi left the bathroom with Goku following her. “It was definitely a scary time. I hope we never experience that again.”

 They were in Gohan’s room now. ChiChi busied herself with getting Gohan in a diaper and a clean onesie. As he stared at his wife and son, Goku wondered what he would do if they experience terror like that again. Piccolo was Earth’s only threat. He could handle Piccolo but if he came here, Goku’s first priority will be getting his wife and son to safety. There’s also the possibility a threat bigger than Piccolo surfacing. His home was the safest place if they had to go into hiding but Goku knew of one place he considered safer than his home.

 “If Earth experiences anything like King Piccolo again, I want you and Gohan to go to Master Roshi’s place. It’s the safest place other than here.”

 ChiChi turned to Goku. She held Gohan protectively against her. “What about you?”

 Goku answered with a kiss to ChiChi’s lips. He placed a gentle hand on Gohan’s head. “I gotta protect you and Gohan. So, while I’m fighting, I want you and Gohan to go to Master Roshi’s. Wait for me there.”

 Gyu-Mao was impressed. “I didn’t know Goku had the foresight to prepare for a time like this. I don’t agree with Goku allowing Piccolo to take Gohan but maybe he had the right intentions in doing so.”

 “The right intentions? He let our four-year-old son be trained by a monster that tried to kill him years ago.” ChiChi shook her head in disagreement. “Goku better have a good explanation when he talks to me over what he did.”

 Gyu-Mao’s teacup suddenly shook on the kitchen table. The shaking spread all over the house. ChiChi grabbed the counter while Gyu-Mao remained seated until the shaking subsided.  

 “Was that an earthquake?” ChiChi asked once it was over. “I didn’t know this area had earthquakes.”

 Gyu-Mao rose from his seat grim. “I don’t think it was an earthquake. We better hurry over to Master Roshi’s.”

 “Wait….” ChiChi stopped her father at the door. “You don’t think that was an earthquake?”

 “Earthquakes aren’t known in these parts. We know these aliens are coming today. It could be them.” Gyu-Mao popped open his capsule revealing his car. “We’ll listen to the radio on the way over.”

 ChiChi sat worriedly as her father drove them to Master Roshi’s. The radio was on but nothing was mentioned of the tremble they felt. ChiChi began thinking it was a small earthquake and nothing more until they were ten minutes away from Master Roshi’s island when news suddenly broke into regular music programming.

 “A catastrophic earthquake has struck East City. Communications have been cut off leaving the safety of all residents in doubt. Military and police surrounding East City are on their way to investigate.”

 “East City?” ChiChi recalled her and Goku visiting that city when buying furniture for their home days before the wedding. They even brought Gohan there on a family outing at an amusement park. “That area is miles from here. Hundreds of miles.”

 “And we felt a slight tremble,” Gyu-Mao pressed down on the gas pedal. They needed to hurry to Master Roshi’s. “I don’t think that city is there anymore.”

 ChiChi clutched a hand over her heart. “The aliens. My baby will be fighting monsters that destroyed an entire city.”

 “Don’t worry, ChiChi. Gohan isn’t alone. Piccolo and Goku’s friends are there.”

 “And what about Goku?” The thought of her son fighting the aliens without his father angered her. “Why isn’t he there? What’s he doing?”

 Gyu-Mao wanted to know the answer to those questions, too. “We’ll find out more when we get to Master Roshi’s. We’re almost there.”

 ChiChi kept her ears tuned to the radio. Nothing new was reported when they reached Master Roshi’s island. While Gyu-Mao turned his car into a capsule, ChiChi was lost in horrible memories rushing to the forefront of her mind during her last visit. When Bulma came by to pick up the dragon balls Goku collected, that was the last she saw of her. Since then, no one came by. No one called. No one even sent a letter to see how she was coping in the year without her husband and son. It was very clear to ChiChi where she stood with Goku’s friends.

 Gyu-Mao entered the home first. He saw Master Roshi, Bulma, Oolong and Puar surrounding the television. “Master Roshi, have the aliens arrive yet?”

 Master Roshi turned to his former pupil. Gyu-Mao wasn’t happy his teacher kept the news of his son-in-law and grandson from his daughter, but over the year, his anger thawed. Master Roshi could feel the anger had waned from his pupil. His pupil’s daughter was another story. “The aliens left East City and are heading off to meet everyone. The fighting should begin soon.” Gyu-Mao’s massive frame filled the entire doorway. He couldn’t see ChiChi. “Did ChiChi really come with you?”

 ChiChi suddenly appeared from behind her father causing Master Roshi to have a mild heart attack. “Master Roshi,” ChiChi gripped the old man’s shoulders. “Where is Gohan? Have you heard from Goku yet?”

 Master Roshi shook his head. “Gohan’s still with Piccolo. Goku’s on his way but the others are with him.”

 “How do you know that?” ChiChi demanded to know.

 “With this.” Bulma held up Raditz’s scouter. “I can read all the strong power levels on Earth. The two aliens are heading to three strong Kis here. Three others are going to that same spot.”

 ChiChi stared at the device in Bulma’s hands. She noticed various numbers all over the screen. “Is one of them Goku’s?”

 “No,” Bulma didn’t hide her disappointment. “I know the Ki of our friends. Two new ones appeared less than an hour ago. It’s the aliens. Goku’s Ki is the biggest but it hasn’t appeared on this scouter yet.”

 “Are you saying Goku’s not on Earth?” ChiChi questioned. “You wished him back yesterday!”

 Bulma understood ChiChi’s frustration. She felt it, too. “I don’t get it either. When Master Roshi and Krillin came back to life, they were revived immediately.”

 “You had our bodies,” Master Roshi reminded Bulma. “Goku’s body was taken by Kami. Maybe there’s a delay because of that.”

 ChiChi turned away from them. She paced the room. “After all this time, Goku’s not on Earth and these aliens are here ready to hurt our son.”

 Gyu-Mao noticed the television. He saw a reporter standing in an empty field. “That’s East City? It’s completely gone.”

 “Those aliens did it,” Oolong chimed it. “They wiped the entire city off the map.”

 “Oolong!” Bulma scolded the pig and bopped him on his head. She looked at ChiChi; read the worried married woman’s face. If those aliens did that to East City, what will they do to her son?

 Bulma jumped back as ChiChi approached her. “Bulma, can you track the destination of the three Ki the Saiyans are going to?”

 “Uh…. yeah.”

 “Then let’s go!” ChiChi grabbed Bulma’s hand. She pulled a reluctant Bulma towards the door. “I’m not letting my baby fight those monsters alone!”

 “No, wait!” Bulma pleaded. “Let me go!”

 “ChiChi!” Gyu-Mao freed Bulma from ChiChi’s grasp. “It’s too dangerous!”

 “It’s too dangerous for a five-year-old but he’s out there without his father.”

 “These aliens are two powerful!” Master Roshi jumped in front of the door, blocking ChiChi. “You’d only get in the way.”

 Gyu-Mao grabbed ChiChi’s arms and pinned them behind her back. “Goku is on his way. You know he will never let anything happen to Gohan. Have faith he’ll get there.”

 “Hang on, everyone. It’s starting.” Bulma sat down with the scouter over her left eye. Everyone gathered around as Bulma read the various power readings popping on the scouter.

 Free from her father’s grasp, ChiChi wrung her hands as Bulma mentioned the rise in power levels while Master Roshi speculated on what could be going on. The higher the power readings Bulma read, the nervous ChiChi got. What was her five-year-old doing out there among beings that could destroy the planet? Gohan didn’t fight. Sure he had the strength but he didn’t have the skills.

 Unable to sit anymore, ChiChi paced. Goku, where are you? It’s been a day. Why aren’t you on Earth? Why aren’t you with Gohan?            

 Gyu-Mao remained positive for his daughter. “It’ll be okay, ChiChi. Gohan is Goku’s son. He’s strong like Goku. He’ll be fine.”

 “No, he won’t!” ChiChi argued. “Gohan’s five years old. He’s never been in a fight. How can you think a five year old is ready to fight monsters ready to kill everyone on this planet? Gohan may be part Saiyan and maybe they do force their young to fight early but Gohan’s also human and he’s not ready for this! ”

 “Oh, no!” Bulma gasped. “Someone just died. A Ki just vanished from the scouter.”

 “Gohan?” ChiChi grabbed Bulma’s shoulders. “Is it Gohan? Is Gohan dead?”

 “No.” Bulma pushed ChiChi away. Gyu-Mao pulled ChiChi back so Bulma could read the scouter correctly. “It’s not Gohan. It’s a bigger Ki.”

 “One of the Saiyans?” Oolong asked hopeful.

 “It’s one of our own.” Master Roshi’s eyes were hidden behind his dark shades but his voice was filled with anger and grief. “I didn’t think he would be the first to go.”

 Bulma noticed Master Roshi didn’t look at her. “Don’t tell me it’s Yamcha.” Master Roshi’s silence confirmed it. “No.” Bulma shook her head. “No, it can’t be Yamcha.”

 “It’ll be all right, Bulma.” Master Roshi spoke gently to her. “This is Yamcha’s first time dying. We can wish him back in a year.”

 “I know, but….” tears pooled down Bulma’s cheeks. “He’s still dead. I know we argue a lot but I care about him.” Master Roshi embraced Bulma as she cried on his shoulder. “I’m gonna miss him so much.”

 ChiChi quietly watched Bulma and Master Roshi mourn Yamcha’s passing. She looked across from her to see Puar had fainted and Oolong waving a fan over her. ChiChi put her hands together in prayer. Gohan, please hold on. Please don’t die. Goku, where are you?

 The numbers on the scouter beeped wildly again indicating the fighting resumed. Hope continued to die as two more power readings were erased. Two more people died. Bulma and Master Roshi assured ChiChi it wasn’t Gohan. ChiChi didn’t find comfort in their words. Given how quickly Goku’s friends were dying, ChiChi worried Gohan’s time was running out.

 My baby boy. My five year old son shouldn’t be out there. Goku, how could you think it was okay for Piccolo to take Gohan? How could you think he’s ready to fight aliens? He’s getting traumatized watching people die around him.

 “This is strange,” Bulma tapped the scouter. Something wasn’t right. “All the numbers have dropped. No one’s dying but it doesn’t seem anyone is fighting.”

 After two hours of no change, the speculation of what is happening continued.

 “They must be taking a break,” Master Roshi figured. “Maybe Piccolo convinced the aliens to stall the fighting until Goku arrives.”

 “Where the hell is Goku?” Bulma slammed her empty glass down. “All our friends are dying! We lost Yamcha, maybe Choazu again and I don’t know who the third one is.”

 “Yajirobe?” Oolong guessed. “Maybe Tien but he’s really strong. He couldn’t have died. He’s the next strongest besides Piccolo. Maybe Krillin died again.”

 Gyu-Mao entered with a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea. He placed the tray on the table and refreshed everyone glasses. “The good news is the fighting has stopped. This break may give our friends time to come up with the strategy to defeat these aliens.” He encouraged everyone to eat. Oolong and Bulma reached for a sandwich. Gyu-Mao refilled ChiChi’s glass. “Here you go, ChiChi. Drink. Eat.”

 ChiChi dismissed her father. “I can’t eat or drink anything. I can’t do anything. I….” she sighed. “I need to be with my son.”

 In the nearly three hours since the ceasefire began, everyone found ways to kill time. Oolong and a depressed Puar watched the news coverage of the destruction of East City. Bulma called her parents. ChiChi sat alone, weeping sometimes but staying mostly quiet as she could only think of her family. More than once she thought to grab Bulma and call Nimbus to take her to Gohan. Seeing how her father and Master Roshi kept near the door, she knew they were expecting her to make a run for it.

 “He’s back!” Bulma screamed. “Goku’s back!”

 “Goku?” ChiChi rushed to Bulma’s side. “Are you sure?”

 “A large Ki just appeared. It’s equal to the Saiyans. It has to be Goku!” Everyone erupted in cheers. ChiChi hugged her father. Oolong and Puar danced. Master Roshi grabbed Bulma’s butt and was promptly slapped. Putting distance between herself and Master Roshi, Bulma focused on the numbers popping on the scouter. Bulma’s joy immediately evaporated as she noticed someone’s Ki falling rapidly. “Someone else is dying. It’s a big Ki. It could be Tien this time; maybe even Krillin. It…it’s gone.”

 “Who was it?” Oolong looked to Master Roshi for an answer. He detected Yamcha’s death but could only speculate on the last two.

 “It’s not Krillin.” Master Roshi was certain of that. “I’ve been around Yamcha and Krillin long enough to know their Ki. They were my students. This one is strong but I’m not familiar with it. It could be Yajirobe.”

 “You really think he’s there?” From what Bulma knew of him, he was a coward showing up at the end of a fight. He hid the entire time Goku fought Piccolo.

 “It has to be him. It’s not Piccolo who’s dead. Everyone knows he needs to stay alive so we can use the dragon balls to wish everyone back.” Since he wasn’t familiar with his Ki, it was very possible Piccolo was killed but since he needed to stay alive for the dragon balls, Master Roshi hoped that wasn’t true. “What’s going on now, Bulma?”

 “Goku’s finally there and he’s fighting.” Bulma read the numbers popping on the screen. “All right!” Bulma cheered. “One of the Saiyans died. Goku got one!”

 “Well,” Gyu-Mao relaxed besides a worried ChiChi, “looks like things are finally going our way. Goku’s back, he’ll defeat the other Saiyan just as easily and return with Gohan. Your family will be reunited very soon, ChiChi.”

 ChiChi wished she could be as relaxed as her father but couldn’t be until Goku and Gohan were in her arms again. “I hope so.”

 Bulma tapped the scouter over her eye. “Looks like Goku and the other Saiyan are leaving the other two. Wait.” Bulma studied the readings on the scouter. “They’re leaving, too.”

 Master Roshi rubbed his beard, speculating what this could mean. “If two are leaving the battle site, then they must be coming here. Goku must’ve sent them away to report to us what’s happened.”

 “No.” ChiChi put a hand over racing heart. “That’s not it.”

 Bulma wondered why ChiChi looked so worried. Goku was back. Everything was going to work out. Didn’t ChiChi have faith in her husband? “What else could it be?”

 “Goku always wanted Gohan to see him fight. Until last year when he allowed Piccolo to take our son, Goku always put Gohan’s safety over everything else. If Goku sent Gohan away, he’s doing it for his safety.”

 Master Roshi understood ChiChi’s worry. “This Saiyan is stronger than Goku expected.”

 Oolong cringed. “What if Goku dies again? The dragon balls can’t bring back people who’ve died twice.” Master Roshi smacked Oolong. “Ow! Why’d you do that?”

 Gyu-Mao wrapped an arm around ChiChi. “Goku won’t die again, ChiChi. He’s had a whole year to prepare. He’ll win.”

 Seeing Gyu-Mao comfort ChiChi, left Master Roshi feeling a twinge of guilt. He let ChiChi think Goku allowed Piccolo take Gohan when he was actually dead. Goku was probably very confused when he saw Gohan. Then again, if he’s like the Goku he knew, Goku’s chest was filled with pride seeing his five-year-old son on the battlefield.

 Still, the old martial arts master thought ChiChi should know the truth in case Goku did die again. “Listen, ChiChi…..” Rapidly rising numbers on Raditz’s scouter, diverted him from continuing. “What’s going on, Bulma? Did something happen?”

 Bulma couldn’t make sense of the rapidly increasing numbers. “I---I think it’s Goku but this power level is increasing too fast. 17,000…. 19,000…. 21,000….!!” Smoke rose from the scouter…..a few pops and sizzles and the scouter exploded. Screaming, Bulma closed her eyes protecting herself from any sparks flying debris. “How….” Bulma opened an eye. She noticed the glass shield of the scouter popped onto the floor. “How can this be?”

 Master Roshi picked up the glass shield and instantly dropped it. It was hot. “It overloaded. Goku’s power was too much for it.”

 ChiChi was on her feet beside him inspecting the glass. “We can’t keep up with the fight anymore.”

 “No.” Bulma picked up the scouter shield and removed the other piece over her ear. “I guess we just wait until the others come here.”

 Wait. She’s waited all day. This whole mess started just before noon. Now it was almost sunset. In that time, a whole city was destroyed. Four of their friends were killed. Her son could be among the dead. For a year, she was told to wait for her husband and son to return to her. For a year, she had to worry what was happening to her son.

 Wait, they told her. Wait for Goku and Gohan to return. Wait for the fighting to be over.

 “I’m done!” ChiChi had enough. “I’m taking Nimbus and I’m going to my family!”

 Gyu-Mao wasn’t close enough to grab ChiChi. “Stop her!” Oolong was the closest. He grabbed ChiChi’s left leg. ChiChi yanked Oolong off her leg and tossed him. The shape shifting pig went flying over the sofa. Master Roshi was next. He grabbed ChiChi’s waist with the full intent of grabbing her breasts. ChiChi broke his hold and kicked him sharply in his face. Gyu-Mao grabbed ChiChi from behind putting her in a full nelson hold. Her feet dangled off the floor. ChiChi deliberately swung her body, getting some momentum as she flipped in the air and behind her father to give a firm kick to his back. Gyu-Mao released his hold on ChiChi as he crumpled to the floor.

 No one to stop her, ChiChi dashed for the door.

 “Wait! We’ll go with you!”

 That was the only thing refraining ChiChi from leaving. She turned. “You will?”

 This is crazy. Really, really crazy. Bulma smiled kindly as she approached ChiChi. “If I were you, I’d want to be with my husband and son, too. We might as well go since we can’t use the scouter.”

 “Do you know where to go?” ChiChi asked. “Nimbus can easily take me there.”

 Bulma held up the broke scouter. “Just let me pinpoint the last location before this thing went dead and I’ll punch the coordinates in the ship.”

 “I see.” It was nice to have at least one of Goku’s friends on her side. “Thank you, Bulma.”

 “I’ll call you when I’m ready to go.” Bulma pulled a capsule from her pocket and tossed it on the beach. A large air ship appeared from the smoke.

 “Bulma!” Master Roshi joined Bulma as she stepped in the ship. “Are you crazy? We can’t take her with us. She needs to stay here.”

 “Oh, because you, Oolong and her Dad did so well restraining her.” Bulma rolled her eyes. “You have to be smart dealing with over emotional people like Goku’s wife.”

 “You would know,” Master Roshi murmured. “So, how to do you plan to stop her?”

 Bulma fingered the scouter. “I’ll stall for half an hour with false coordinates. After that….” Bulma shrugged.

 “False? But you said---“

 “This thing is broken. Even if I could find the last coordinates, it’ll take hours.”

 “Let’s stop by Master Korin’s Temple and pick up some senzu beans. That’ll buy us more time. He might be able to direct us to the real battle site.”

 Bulma gave Master Roshi’s a thumb’s up. “Now you got it. By time we get there, the fight should be over.”

 An hour ago

 Is that Gohan?

 It looked like his son but it didn’t feel like him. High above everyone, Goku watched Gohan unleash an enormous amount of Ki against the tall Saiyan. He deflected Gohan’s attack but Goku was shocked and impressed such power came from his little boy.

 How did he get so strong…. and was that a Masenko? That’s Piccolo’s move.

 Gohan dropped to his knees exhausted. He couldn’t move as the large Saiyan approached for a final attack. Goku jumped off Nimbus. “Nimbus! Go!”

 With lightning speed, Nimbus zipped down and scooped Gohan before Nappa could crush the child under his foot. He saved his son but everyone else……

 I’m too late. I didn’t make it back in time.

 Goku dropped from the sky. He felt the gazes of the two Saiyans on him. They weren’t his concern….for now. Goku’s eyes were on Piccolo’s still body as he walked by the stunned Nappa. He knew his casual dismissal was insulting but Goku didn’t care. He only cared about Piccolo. If Piccolo was dead, then no one can come back.

 “Piccolo.” Goku touched Piccolo’s neck. As he feared, no pulse.

 “He died trying to save me.”

 Gohan’s words stunned Goku. Piccolo saved Gohan? That Masenko….. Did Piccolo train Gohan? So many questions and no time for answers. There was a battle he needed to fight. Goku saw Yamcha and Tien’s dead bodies. Nappa bragged about a smaller one blowing up. So they got, Chaozu, too. Even if Piccolo hadn’t died, there was no way to bring him back.

 All of them worked together and died. Piccolo��.I never imagined he would sacrifice himself for Gohan. No! It suddenly dawned on him. “Kami…” He was gone, too.

 Goku ignored the big Saiyan trying to swing at him and ordered Gohan to follow him. He’ll get some answers from Krillin and Gohan. Goku couldn’t take his eyes off Gohan. His little boy changed so much. After giving Krillin and Gohan senzu beans, Gohan confirmed his suspicions. Piccolo did train him.  

 How did Piccolo convince ChiChi to let him train Gohan? Did ChiChi change her feelings when she learned Piccolo joined me to stop Raditz? I doubt ChiChi knows everything Piccolo and Gohan did. Maybe I’ll take Gohan fishing after this so he’ll tell me.

 Goku turned to his opponents. The tall one, Nappa, killed everyone. The short one, Vegeta, hadn’t stepped in to fight yet. Goku knew he will have to be on his toes with that one when they battle. Still, Goku was confident he will be the victor. With King Kai’s training, Goku felt almost invincible.

 He had to be invincible. He had to be perfect. He owed it to his friends. They all died buying him more time to get to Earth. Without their sacrifice, the world would be in ruins now. For his friends, he couldn’t show mercy to these Saiyans. For them, he had to kill these Saiyans.

 An hour later

 “I can’t believe I listened to you, Goku! What about you saying you wouldn’t show them mercy? You were so angry at the beginning of the fight! What happened?!” Krillin turned away frustrated with Goku and himself. “I shouldn’t have let Vegeta go!”

 Goku understood Krillin’s anger. His actions now were very different from the beginning of the fight. Then, he was filled with rage. He wanted to kill Nappa and Vegeta. He told Nappa he wouldn’t show mercy but during both fights something changed. He taunted Nappa, loved the frustration from the Saiyan as he dodged each of his blows but when it came time to kill Nappa, he showed mercy. Nappa was going to kill his son and Krillin. Goku had every right to kill Nappa in that moment but instead of killing him, he only wounded him enough so that he couldn’t fight anymore. He even told Vegeta to take Nappa and go.

 Why did I show mercy when they are responsible for everyone’s deaths?

 It didn’t matter in the end since Vegeta killed Nappa. He should’ve died at his hands but Goku couldn’t do it.

 I lost my killer instinct. They killed my friends and I showed mercy.

 It was worse with Vegeta. Vegeta exceeded Goku’s expectations. Not even two times Kaio Ken was enough to stop Vegeta. He pushed his body to the brink and even then needed Gohan, Krillin and Yajirobe’s aide to stop him. Vegeta was a menace who would not stay down. Last time, Goku was outmatched, it was during his first fight with King Piccolo. Then, he got frustrated like Nappa. He lost his cool and when he realized, he couldn’t defeat King Piccolo, he felt fear for the first time in his life. With Vegeta, he didn’t lose his cool, he didn’t feel fear. He was excited. Pushed to think faster, fight stronger and smarter against Vegeta, he felt excitement.

 Picture it, Kakarrot! Picture the carnage! Feel your Saiyan blood stir!!

 Raditz told him that when he tried to tempt Goku to join him in space. He wanted him to kill all life; thought by creating images of death by his hands would stir his Saiyan blood.

 It did the opposite for Goku. It repulsed him but fighting Nappa and Vegeta, stirred something in him he now found troubling.

 Fighting against these Saiyans; fighting against my own sparked something in MY Saiyan blood. It was exciting. It was thrilling. I loved it. This feeling….is this what Raditz meant about stirring the Saiyan blood? Is this what Raditz and all Saiyans feel?

ChiChi was going out of her mind. It’s been nearly an hour since they left Master Roshi’s island. Bulma assured her they were going the right way but suddenly decided they should fly to Master Korin’s Tower and pick up senzu beans. Korin didn’t have any beans left but offered to show them where Goku and the Saiyan Vegeta were fighting.

 Korin acknowledge her with a kind smile when he came on board. He was kind to her now as he was when she visited his home a few months ago.

 Korin’s Tower was so high above ground she couldn’t see the top. It was hard to believe a tower built so high it could reach the clouds.

 “I wonder if I can do this.”

 “Of course you can.” Upa’s confidence in ChiChi was very high. “You’re Goku’s wife. If he can do it, if his friends can do it, you can, too.”

 ChiChi appreciated the young man’s confidence. Goku told her of Upa and his father. When she introduced herself to them, father and son invited her to stay the night and start her journey up Korin’s Tower in the morning. With a pouch of food and water for nourishment, ChiChi leapt on the tower.

 It took ChiChi a full day before she reached the bottom of Korin’s Tower. She dozed off a few times but never fell off. ChiChi leapt to grab one of the round entrances and pulled herself in. Goku told her no one stayed on the lower level so ChiChi climbed up the staircase.

 “Hello? Master Korin?”

 “Up here.”

 ChiChi climbed the stairs faster. When she reached the top, Korin stood alone as if expecting her. ChiChi bowed before him. “Hello, Master Korin. I’m Son ChiChi, Son---“

 “I know who you are,” Korin cut her off. “You’re Goku’s wife.” The white cat looked ChiChi over. “Pretty and one with better manners than Goku. My appearance doesn’t surprise you?”

 “Goku told me about you.”

 Korin smirked. “I get the feeling he tells you a lot. I know Goku is dead but why are you here?”

 “I wanna get stronger. Goku told me climbing this tower was part of his training. I know it’s only tap water but I wanna get your flask. It may take me more than three days but I wanna try.”

 “Ya wastin’ our time!” the crass voice of Yajirobe entered the room before he did.

 “Anyone who climbs my tower is free to challenge me for the flask.” Korin reminded his guest who wouldn’t leave.

 Yajirobe snorted. “She ain’t gettin’ stronger. Tell her to go home an’ stay there. Ya only gettin’ in the way.” Yajirobe looked ChiChi over. “Why ya wanna get stronger anyway? Ya ain’t tryin’ to fight them Saiyans are ya?”

 “It’s not your business.” He was rude like Goku’s other friends. “Why are you here? This isn’t your home.”

 “Ya a long way from yours! Tch.” Yajirobe scratched his butt. “Just go home. Ya ain’t strong enough to fight these Saiyans. Ya only gonna get in the way.”

 “If she wants to get stronger,” Korin said, “there’s nothing wrong with that. Earth can use every fighter available.”

 “Maybe but she ain’t a fighter. She’s Goku’s wife.” Yajirobe shooed ChiChi away with his hand. “Go home and wait like a woman who knows her place should.”

 Yajirobe’s rudeness was frustrating. “I was among the top eight fighters at the last tournament!” How dare he speak to her this way? “Where did you place?”

 “It don’t matter.” Yajirobe ignored the question. “Kami wanted me to come to his temple for more trainin’. He didn’t ask for ya, which means Kami doesn’t think ya strong enough to fight these Saiyans.”

 “Do you wanna challenge me?” ChiChi questioned.

 “Ya got a mouth on ya. Goku ain’t bein’ a good husband not stiflin’ it. I’m his friend. I saved his life. You should treat me with respect.”            

 “Respect?” ChiChi balked at his words. She was Goku’s wife. Where was his respect for her? “You’re not being a good friend speaking so ill of his wife.”

 “Ya don’t deserve it!” Yajirobe yelled back. “The Goku I know wouldn’t have died! What ya do ta him?! How come he was so weak he couldn’t defeat one person?!” The stunning slap from ChiChi reverberated from Yajirobe’s head to his toes and spun his body so fast he lost his balance.

 Yajirobe wiped the blood off his lips as he rose. If ChiChi’s eyes could morph, her pupils would be filled with fire. “You may be Goku’s wife but I don’t tolerate any woman hittin’ me.” Yajirobe threw a fist at ChiChi. ChiChi dodged and threw a punch of her own to which Yajirobe blocked. A flurry of fists and kicks were thrown by Yajirobe and ChiChi. Yajirobe had to bite his words. ChiChi wasn’t strong enough to fight the Saiyans but she was stronger than he ever thought to give her credit for.

 Yajirobe grabbed his sword. He wouldn’t kill her as he did Cymbal but he thought if he cut her, she would pull back. Yajirobe grinned. Right across her breasts would be perfect. It would embarrass her enough so she’d pull back but give him a peak at what’s underneath. It was a win either way for him.

 He unsheathed his sword with perfect precession. Instead of his sharp blade slicing the cloth over ChiChi’s breasts, it slapped the hard rod of Goku’s power pole.

 His sword was blocked?

 Before Yajirobe plotted his next move, a sharp foot stabbed him between his legs. “Damn,” he cursed crumpling to the ground. He barely took in a breath before a hand grabbed him. His eyes saw the fury in ChiChi’s before he was spun and tossed off the tower!

 “Yooouuuu bi……..” Yajirobe’s words were drowned out as he dropped down to the ground below.

 Korin strolled to the balustrade. He couldn’t see Yajirobe but he knew he didn’t die. He’ll have a huge bump and he’ll be in a foul mood though. “He’s not gonna be happy when he gets up here.”

 “How long will that be?”

 Korin chuckled. “Probably not until you leave.” He waved his stick, shaking his flask. “Let’s see how strong you can get.”

 “A little more to the left,” Korin directed Bulma. They were closer to Goku and Vegeta’s battle site. From the lowered Ki Korin felt, he suggested the battle was near its end.

 “Are you sure Gohan’s safe?” ChiChi asked him.

 Korin grunted, “Probably.”

 “Probably?” She couldn’t handle probably. She needed to know. ChiChi shook Korin. “Probably?! That’s not good enough! I need to know!”

Master Roshi rolled his eyes. The gall of this woman shaking a highly respected Master as Korin. Did she treat Goku like this he wondered? If Goku dealt with this over the years….. “I told you we should’ve left her behind.”

 Eventually Korin broke free from ChiChi’s grasps. He rubbed his neck. “I think someone left the battlefield. There’s one less Ki.”

 “Did someone die?” Bulma asked.

 “No,” Korin shook his head. “It didn’t feel like that.”

 “I see them!” From her view Bulma could see Goku’s broken body lying on the ground. “It’s Goku!”

 ChiChi leapt from her seat to see Goku. Goku’s body looked crushed. He was badly beaten but alive. Where was Gohan? She couldn’t find him? Were the others wrong? Was he killed?

 There! She spotted him unconscious and naked in Krillin’s arms. Her poor five-year-old son. What happened to her baby?!  

 Why, Goku? Why did you think Gohan should fight? Why did you let our baby be in Piccolo’s care for a year? Look at what your decision did to our son! I won’t forgive you for this.

 Bulma brought the ship down for a landing. As soon as the door open, ChiChi knocked Master Roshi out of the way. Running, she saw Goku. He was hurt, maybe paralyzed but alive. Her son wasn’t moving at all. He needed her. Not his father.

 “Gohan!” ChiChi screamed. After a year of waiting, worrying and crying, her son was in arm’s reach. She leapt over Goku, her focused was only on Gohan in Krillin’s arms. “Gohan!” ChiChi snatched her son out of Krillin’s arms. Her yelling didn’t wake her son. Was he dead? No. He can’t be dead. ChiChi laid Gohan on the ground. She tapped his face. “Wake up. Wake up, baby. Mommy’s here.” No response. He wasn’t opening his eyes. His body was warm. His heart was beating. He was alive but he wasn’t responding to her. “What did they do to you?”

 Krillin shook his head at ChiChi. He pointed to Goku feeling ChiChi should focus her worry over her husband’s condition. “Gohan’s fine. It’s Goku….”

 “I shouldn’t have let you with him,” ChiChi wailed as she cuddled her son to her. “I won’t do it again.”

 Krillin turned away. He heard enough. Some wife. He joined Master Roshi and Bulma who crowd around Goku.

 “The Saiyan….got away….” Goku told Master Roshi and Bulma. “Sorry.”

 Liar. It wasn’t the first time Goku lied to them. He lied about not knowing Piccolo before the martial arts tournament started. This lie was hurtful. The Saiyan didn’t get away. Goku wanted him to get away. They had a chance to kill Vegeta but Goku wanted him to escape all because Goku liked fighting with him. He enjoyed it.

 Dammit, Goku. Is enjoying yourself in a fight more important than avenging our friends. Krillin thought Goku as his best friend. He thought he knew Goku but with his silence during the five years of his marriage, this decision to spare Vegeta, Krillin felt his friend changing into someone he didn’t know.

 More confusion followed at the bittersweet reunion. Bulma had a breakdown when she learned Piccolo died which meant Yamcha wasn’t coming back. Yajirobe was bitter Master Roshi speculated he died instead of Piccolo. It was possible Kami, Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien and Chaozu weren’t coming back but with Vegeta mentioning the planet Namek, Krillin saw a sliver of hope everyone will return.

 Master Roshi and Yajirobe placed Goku on a makeshift stretcher. ChiChi had went ahead of them back to the ship. They all assumed she was seated but both were surprised to see ChiChi standing as if waiting for Goku. She quietly held Gohan but kept her eyes on Goku as he was brought on board. ChiChi never said anything but her eyes met with Goku’s as he was secured to the ship’s floor. Goku smiled at her. “Hmph,” ChiChi murmured. She turned her back on him and sat in the seats in front of him.

 Is ChiChi mad at me? What did I do?  

Master Roshi flew the ship to pick up Tien, Yamcha and Piccolo’s bodies since Bulma was consumed with grief over thinking Yamcha couldn’t be wished back. Yajirobe sat on the floor with Goku. Goku didn’t mind the company but he rather have his wife and son next to him. He hadn’t seen them in a year.

 ChiChi

 ChiChi turned her head slightly. She could’ve sworn she heard Goku speak to her in her mind.

 It’s me, ChiChi. It hurts too much to speak so I’m talking to you through my mind. Don’t respond back since I only want us to know I’m speaking to you.  

 ChiChi answered with silence.  

 I don’t know why you’re mad at me but it’s nice to see you, ChiChi. I thought about you and Gohan a lot. That’s all I wanted to say.

 Having that off his chest, Goku tried to relax. Pain was felt all over his body. Every bump or slight turbulence hurt him. The makeshift pillow was coming loose and he felt the blanket sliding off him.

More bumps and shaking followed before the ship suddenly stopped.

 “What happened?” Goku asked Yajirobe.

 “We’ve landed.” Yajirobe stood. “We gotta collect the others.”

 “Bulma, did you bring those capsules?” asked Master Roshi.

 Goku could hear Bulma sniffing. “Yeah. I got them. I wish we didn’t have to use them.” Goku heard fading voices of Bulma, Krillin, Korin, Master Roshi and Yajirobe leave the ship.

 Only Goku, ChiChi and Gohan remained on the ship. Goku thought to talk to ChiChi. Maybe he’ll learn why she’s mad at him. “Chi—“ He turned his head to see ChiChi had come around from her seat.

 ChiChi dropped to her knees before him. Goku eyed ChiChi adjusting his pillow. She fixed his blanket to cover his feet and tucked it in a few places so it wouldn’t slide off him during the rest of the flight. It would put a strain on his voice but Goku tried to talk to ChiChi. “Chi—“ he was silenced with ChiChi’s lips on his. He didn’t hesitate. He kissed back missing ChiChi’s lips for nearly a year. He let ChiChi take control of the kiss. He opened his mouth to hers as she explored him, taste his dried blood on his cut lips; feel her delicate fingers caress his hair. She smelled so good and tasted so wonderful.

 Goku was slightly out of breath when ChiChi pulled back. Maybe he was wrong about ChiChi being upset with him. He thought he was wrong until he saw ChiChi’s eyes. “I missed you, too, but Goku, I’m so angry with you right now! You selfish fool! I can’t forgive you for what you did!”

“Huh?” Why was she angry? What did he do? ChiChi didn’t know about him letting Vegeta getting away. “For saving the world?”

 He was joking but seeing the ire on her face Goku knew he made a big mistake. ChiChi was furious. “Ow!” he grunted when ChiChi smacked his face.

 “It’s not a joke what you did! Why do you and your friends think this is a joke?! This isn’t funny! This is our son’s life! This is our family!”

 ChiChi’s anger at him involved Gohan. That didn’t help Goku solve this mystery. “Could you---“ ChiChi rose in a huff and returned to her seat. Footsteps shuffled on the ship as Goku heard the others return. Whatever ChiChi’s problem at him was had to wait.

 In the air again, Gohan finally woke up and Krillin mentioned a way to bring their friends back by finding the planet Namek, Kami’s home world. This led Goku to contact King Kai and the group developing a plan to visit Namek and use their dragon balls to bring Kami, Piccolo, Tien, Chaozu and Yamcha to life.

 Now there was a solution to bringing their friends back, Goku focused on his family. There were so many questions he had and the answers lied in his wife and son.

ChiChi sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. It was after midnight and Goku was still in surgery. Krillin and Gohan were examined by doctors, bandaged and were resting in their rooms. While she waited for Goku to come out of surgery, her father stayed with Gohan so he wouldn’t be alone in his room. Master Roshi, Bulma and Master Korin left an hour ago. Before they left, they spoke with Krillin in his room to get more details on what happened at the conclusion of Goku’s fight with Vegeta. As she saw them leaving, she noticed Master Roshi and Bulma appeared visibly upset mumbling, ‘How could Goku do that? What was he thinking? Our friends deserve better.’

 Only Master Korin approached to let ChiChi know they will return tomorrow but he didn’t share what was discussed in Krillin’s room. She was being shut out again but at the moment, ChiChi didn’t care. Her only focus was on Goku and waiting for him to come out of surgery.

 Master Roshi and Bulma were probably still upset with her for what happened earlier. ChiChi delayed treatment for Goku because she wanted Dr. Barkley to be in the room with him. They hadn’t spoken since Dr. Barkley came to her house months ago. To her relief, Dr. Barkley promised to come. Unfortunately, she lived two hours outside West City. The wait infuriated Bulma who was the most passionate arguing with ChiChi to let the doctors care for Goku. ChiChi understood Bulma’s reasons but she had her own. She knew how Goku felt about doctors and strangers touching him. She remembered how things were during her pregnancy. Goku was comfortable around Dr. Barkley. She also was the only doctor who understood his alien physiology.

 Master Roshi and Bulma saw ChiChi’s actions as her way of lashing out at Goku for Gohan fighting. They thought ChiChi was punishing Goku by delaying treatment. It wasn’t that way and her actions were justified when she, Goku and Dr. Barkley were in Goku’s room after an initial examination of his injuries.

 Goku laid flat on his hospital bed with ChiChi by his side. In the room were Dr. Barkley and Dr. Mansfield, a doctor from Wukong Hospital. Alone in his room, Goku heard his friends arguing with ChiChi over delaying his treatment but ChiChi understood him. She knew he didn’t like physical examinations or different hands on him. He was comfortable with Dr. Barkley and knew with her in the room, she would make this as painless and comfortable as possible.

 Dr. Mansfield stood with Dr. Barkley as he gave Goku and ChiChi a breakdown of Goku’s injuries. “Judging by the x-rays, Goku, nearly every bone in your body is broken. Your spine has been twisted but not broken. Paralysis isn’t permanent but I can’t guarantee you will walk again until I see how your body accepts the metal rods.”

 “Metal rods?” Goku repeated. “What does my body have to accept that?”

 “Goku,” Dr. Barkley spoke in a gentler tone, “Dr. Mansfield wants to insert metal rods in your legs to help you walk. As part of your recovery, you will need screws and pins in your back, hips, legs and arms. It’ll help the bones heal faster and stay in proper alignment.”

 “I don’t know what type of martial arts you were engaging in,” Dr. Mansfield like everyone was unaware of the truth over Goku’s fight, “but given the state of your injuries, you’ll never perform martial arts again. My team is waiting to start surgery immediately.”

 “Surgery?” Goku looked at ChiChi. “What will he do?”

 ChiChi grasp Goku’s hand. “Dr. Mansfield want to cut you open and insert the metal rods, pins and screws in your body.”

 “Will they take them out once I’m healed?”

 ChiChi shook her head. “No. It will stay in your body forever.”

 “NO!” Goku protested. He shook his head. “No surgery! The senzu beans will heal me. We just have to wait until Korin grows more.”

 Dr. Mansfield refrained from rolling his eyes. Senzu beans sounded like alternative medicine which he wasn’t fond of his patients using. “I don’t know what senzu beans are but alternative medicine won’t work here. You need these medical implants.”

 “No, no, no!” Goku shook his head violently. “ChiChi, don’t let him do this to me. I don’t want this.” Goku tried to get up but only screamed in pain.

 ChiChi put a hand on Goku’s chest. “Shh. Calm down.”

 “No surgery, ChiChi,” Goku begged. “The senzu beans will heal me. I know it.”

 Dr. Barkley came to Goku’s other side. “Goku,” she turned his face to her. “Are you sure about this? You can’t move your body. Can a senzu bean really heal you?”

 “It can.” He turned his head to ChiChi. “ChiChi, tell her. I used them at the tournament. Remember how I couldn’t move and I ate a senzu bean.”

 ChiChi remembered. She also ate one after her time with Korin. She knew how effective the beans were.  “He’s right,” she told Dr. Barkley. “We’ll wait for the senzu beans to grow. Can’t you bandage Goku and put him in a cast or something until then?”

 Dr. Barkley agreed to ChiChi’s suggestion but Dr. Mansfield needed more convincing. He was very vocal on Goku needing medical rods, screws and pins.  However, as the doctor, he had to do what the patient wanted even if he thought it wasn’t the wisest decision.

 “ChiChi?”

 ChiChi turned as she rose. Dr. Barkley entered the waiting room looking exhausted but pleased. That gave ChiChi hope her decision was the right one. “How is Goku? Can I see him?”

 “Goku’s being transferred to Gohan’s room. He was in a lot pain when we bandaged and cleaned his wounds. We placed him in a special recuperating bed. Since Goku didn’t have rods or pins placed in him, this is the most naturally device we can put him in to help his bones heal properly until you give him senzu beans. Goku will have to be confine in it all day.”

 ChiChi already knew that will be a problem. Goku hated feeling confine. As soon as he feels the tiniest bit better, he will escape.

 “We had to give him a high dose of morphine to ease the pain.” Dr. Barkley rubbed the back of her neck. She was tired. “I’m surprised it had any effect but given Goku’s weakened state, his body is vulnerable. I hope those senzu beans do heal him. Goku has a long recovery if it doesn’t. His body may never be the same again.”

 “What is his recovery if the senzu beans don’t work?”

 “Um,” Dr. Barkley thought for a moment, “given his physiology, it will take four months before his body heals. With therapy, he could walk in six months. But,” she added, “Goku’s physiology is different from humans. We really just have to wait and see at this point.”

 “Thank you.” ChiChi appreciated Dr. Barkley’s help and advice. “I owe you for coming even after I haven’t spoken to you in months. I thank you for keeping Goku and Gohan’s secret.”

 Dr. Barkley thought it was she who owed ChiChi after keeping secrets from her and Goku. “Just tell me this. Is what happened in East City today tied to the aliens your father told me were coming last year?” Dr. Barkley asked. “News have no idea what happened. They found two round pods. One flew away but the government confiscated the other one. It’s being studied. I didn’t think it was connected to what your father told me until you called.”

 Since Dr. Barkley knew everything else, ChiChi didn’t see any reason to lie now. “Yes.”

 “Well,” Dr. Barkley sighed, hoping ChiChi wouldn’t confirm that, “at least the threat is over but there were people I knew in that city. So horrible they died that way.”

 ChiChi didn’t have the heart to tell her one of the aliens escaped and it was possible, the threat wasn’t over.

 After speaking a few more moments, ChiChi left Dr. Barkley with a promise to talk to the woman again in the future. When she entered Goku and Gohan’s room, she noticed her husband and son were asleep and her father in a chair besides Gohan’s bed. ChiChi went to Goku’s side. She caressed his sleeping face.

 “They just brought him in a few minutes ago. He looks exhausted.”

 “He needs rest.” ChiChi turned away from him to Gohan. He had bandages wrapped around his forehead and arms. He slept soundly, too. ChiChi caressed his black spiky locks. Her eyes watered. Her husband and son were finally home.

 “So, do you,” Gyu-Mao picked up his chair and placed it between Goku and Gohan’s beds. “Come on. Lay down.”

 “Dad…..”

 “I talked to the nurses. You can stay the night.” He pulled a side lever on the chair. It converted to a recliner chair. “One of the nurses got this fancy chair from one of the doctor’s office. We’ll have to return it in the morning but I can bring another chair and few items for you when I come back tomorrow.”

 ChiChi hugged her father. “Thank you, Dad.”

 Gyu-Mao picked up ChiChi and placed her in the chair. He covered her with a blanket. “It’s been a long day for you, ChiChi. I want you to rest.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 Gyu-Mao quietly closed the door as he left. For several minutes, ChiChi sat in the recliner, recounting the events of the day. Physically, she was fine but mentally, ChiChi was exhausted. To her right, Gohan slept soundly. He was physically fine and only needed three days in the hospital. Mentally, she knew her child will never be the same. To her left, Goku slept. He was in horrible shape. He was covered from head to toe in bandages in a weird bed with IVs dripping in him. His was confined to that bed and probably won’t be able to move until the senzu beans are ready.

 It will be long recovery for her family but ChiChi was happy. Goku was alive again and her son was home. Tonight she will sleep with a smile. After nearly a year, her family was back together.

ChiChi was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The morning started off wonderfully for the first time in eleven months. Goku and Gohan were with her. ChiChi thought the family of three would spend the morning catching up before visitors but not long after all three were awake, Krillin entered the room.

 Knowing he was a close friend of Goku’s and missed Goku, too, ChiChi bit her tongue. She thought Krillin would visit for a few minutes before understanding her family needed time alone but he stayed all morning to talk about his training in the past year on Kami’s Temple with Tien, Chaozu, Yamcha and Yajirobe. Later, he grabbed the remote and began watching TV. Two hours after Krillin arrived, Master Roshi, Master Korin and Yajirobe dropped in. More laughs and stories were shared while ChiChi grew increasingly frustrated.

 Her father arrived just after noon with a change of clothes, toiletries and capsules for ChiChi. He was the only one to detect his daughter’s frustration at the guests who wouldn’t leave. Bulma arrived not long after her father but quickly left with Mr. Popo to find the ship Kami travelled to Earth in since Nappa’s spaceship blew up on TV by the remote she had.

 Bulma returned a couple hours later with great news that Kami’s ship will get them to Namek. It would be a two month round trip but Bulma wasn’t going alone. Krillin agreed to go and to everyone’s surprise, Gohan volunteered to go.

 ChiChi was vehemently against it. Children didn’t go into space. It wasn’t safe. On top of that, she was reunited with her five-year-old son after a year apart yesterday. She hadn’t a chance to spend even an hour alone with him without Goku’s friends arriving and interrupting her family time. Gohan’s desire to go was fueled by bringing Piccolo back and that snapped whatever patience ChiChi had left. She was boiling. Bring back Piccolo? What did that demon do to her son to earn such loyalty that he would want to wish him back? This was the same monster that tried to kill his father years ago. ChiChi yelled, louder than she ever had at Gohan before. She wouldn’t allow her son to go to a planet with who knows what threat was out there. She would not be apart from her son anymore. Her son was always obedient. He always listened. If she yelled loud enough, Gohan will obey.

 To the surprise of everyone, Gohan raised his voice at her to be quiet. ChiChi and everyone were in stunned silence. Even Goku.

 Goku remained silent during the exchange between his wife and son. When Gohan mentioned going to Namek, Goku didn’t want Gohan to go. He didn’t want to part from his son for two months after being away for a year. When Gohan mentioned his desire to go was for Piccolo, Goku understood. He didn’t know all that has happened in the past year but he knew Piccolo trained Gohan. ChiChi knew about that since she obviously approved it but ChiChi didn’t know Piccolo gave his life for Gohan.

 ChiChi started yelling. Her outburst over Gohan not going to Namek was surprising to him. ChiChi raised her voice at Gohan a few times but never like this. When she screamed like this, it was always directed at him. She could be loud but Goku learned ChiChi was all bark and no bite. He knew if he raised his voice or didn’t back down, ChiChi would give in. Gohan obviously figured that out, too, when he raised his voice to his mother.

 Goku was proud of how strong Gohan had gotten over the year but ChiChi’s deflation at Gohan yelling at her bothered Goku. Maybe he should’ve intervened. At the very least, he should’ve had everyone leave while he, Gohan and Gyu-Mao talk to ChiChi in accepting Gohan’s decision to go to Namek.

 Bulma promised ChiChi she and Krillin will keep an eye on Gohan but it wasn’t enough. ChiChi looked so hurt. Goku noticed Yajirobe staring at ChiChi grinning smugly. Goku didn’t find this funny at all. Why did Yajirobe?

 ChiChi announced. “I need to get some air.” Goku kept his eyes on ChiChi as she left. ChiChi didn’t look at him but Goku saw a tear roll down her cheek.

 “Good riddance,” Yajirobe rumbled. “Maybe now we can get some peace.” He whispered to Goku so Gyu-Mao didn’t hear. “That woman has too much mouth. Just say the word and I’ll give her a good smack for you.”

 That was the second time Yajirobe offered to hit ChiChi. He ignored it yesterday in the airship. Today, he was irritated. There was a sudden prickling feeling inside that awakened. He felt a sliver of this emotion on King Kai’s planet when King Kai read Goku’s mind while he thought of an intimate moment between him and ChiChi.

 “Yajirobe,” his voice was devoid of it’s usually innocence, “you can go now.”

 “What for?” Yajirobe complained. “I ain’t causin’ trouble. That’s your wife. She’s not a nice person. She was rude to me a few months ago.”

 There it was again. That irritating feeling. It pulsed in his blood. “You can help Korin with the senzu beans. Go. I insist.”

 “They won’t be ready for another month.” Yajirobe crossed his arms indicating he was staying put. “Besides, I wanna try the hospital food. I earned it after fighting Vegeta.”

 Gyu-Mao was the only to notice the tension in Goku’s voice. “My son-in-law has been through a lot. He’s fighting it but I can tell he’s tired and needs some rest.” To the others he said, “Your entertainment since morning has been great for Goku and Gohan but we should let him rest for the remainder of the day.”

 “Sure,” Master Roshi caught on that he and everyone were being excused. “We can visit you tomorrow.”

 “You can hang in my room,” Krillin offered. He grabbed a reluctant Yajirobe and dragged him out. Korin and Master Roshi followed after him.

 “I gotta get back home anyway,” Bulma said. “There’s a lot to do before we leave for Namek.”

 Only Gyu-Mao, Gohan and Goku remained in the room. Gyu-Mao went to Gohan’s bed and picked him up. “Come on, Gohan. Let’s leave your Daddy to rest. We still have catching up to do.” Gyu-Mao carried Gohan to the door. “Goku, I want you to talk to ChiChi when she comes back.”

 With everyone gone, they could have that talk he wanted to have since yesterday. He was still very confused. “Gyu-Mao, I don’t understand why ChiChi is mad at me. What did I do?”

 Gyu-Mao pitied his son-in-law. Maybe Goku had the best intentions letting Piccolo train Gohan. Maybe Goku saw Gohan was needed in the fight against the Saiyans. However, Gyu-Mao couldn’t grasp how Goku didn’t understand how upset his daughter would be with him for his decision a year ago. He was a little annoyed himself. His daughter was left alone because of Goku’s actions. She suffered so much and Goku didn’t grasp that.

 “It’s not my place to say but, Goku, you need to have a talk with ChiChi.”

 Gyu-Mao wanted so much to tell Goku but couldn’t. Other than that dreadful first fight and the time after Gohan’s birth, Gyu-Mao never got involved in Goku and ChiChi’s issues. While they needed guidance in the first year of their marriage, in the months after Gohan’s birth, both matured and whatever squabbles did surface, Gyu-Mao felt Goku and ChiChi could work it out together.

 “Are you….” Goku hesitated, “are you upset with me?”

 Gyu-Mao stood at the door holding Gohan who stared at him curious about the answer, too. “There is something you did I don’t agree with but you had the foresight to see what I couldn’t and for that, I can’t be angry with you.”

 He spoke in riddles. Goku didn’t understand. “What did I do that you don’t agree with?”

 “Talk to ChiChi, Goku. I want to spend time with my grandson.”

 ChiChi hoped it wasn’t obvious she’s been crying. A nurse caught her crying in the hallway alone. She escorted ChiChi to an empty room where she got ChiChi some water and lent a kind ear. ChiChi didn’t confide her business to the kind nurse but voiced frustration at her husband’s friends and how she can’t find anytime alone with her family. After a few kind words of support from the nurse, ChiChi returned to Goku’s room and braced herself for more hours of Goku’s friend talking and occupying time with her family.

 To her surprise, the room was empty except for Goku. They left? All of them? “Where’s Gohan?”

 “With your Dad. He wanted to spend time with Gohan alone.”

 A little smile turned up her face. Now she knew why the room was empty. “I see.”

 Goku knew he needed to use this time alone to talk to his wife. Other than the moment on the airship, ChiChi only spoke to Goku when needed to. When he woke up this morning, ChiChi’s attention were on Gohan. He thought at one point ChiChi would address him but Krillin entered the room and for the next hours he was entertained by his friends. He hadn’t noticed but he wondered if ChiChi was upset about that.

 “I missed you, too, but Goku, I’m so angry with you right now. You selfish fool! I can’t forgive you for what you did!”

 ChiChi was still angry with him and Goku didn’t understand why. There were many questions he wanted to ask but there was one question he wanted an answer to more than anything.

 “Why are you so mad at me?”

 “I don’t wanna have this talk now, Goku. Maybe later when you’re home…..”

 “No!” Goku disagreed. “I wanna have this talk now. What did I do that made you so angry? I’m the one who died and got my body broken again. I’m the one who should be angry. Not you.”

 Not her? She wasn’t allowed to be angry after what he did? Fine! If he didn’t want to wait, she’ll let him know. “I shouldn’t be angry after what you did! You know exactly why I’m angry! You’re so selfish you won’t even apologize!”

 “Apologize for what? Tell me!”

 “Apologize for everything! This is all you fault!” ChiChi screamed. “My baby yelled at me because of you! My baby was fighting monsters that could destroy this planet because of you! My baby was taken from me for a whole year because of you!”

 The more ChiChi yelled the more confused Goku got. “How’s all that my fault?”

 ChiChi saw red. How dare he? How dare he play innocent? It won’t work this time! “Because you allowed Gohan to be trained by Piccolo! My baby should’ve been with me but he was with that monster and now Gohan’s grown attached to him. He wants to bring him back to life!”

 Well, now he knew why ChiChi was angry but it didn’t explain why she blamed him. “Why do you think I allowed Gohan to be trained by Piccolo? I was dead.”

 “You gave Piccolo approval to train Gohan before you died! Don’t even think you can talk your way out of this. I know the truth!”

 Obviously she didn’t because he didn’t approve this at all. “ChiChi, when I died, I thought Gohan was taken home to you. I didn’t know Piccolo trained Gohan until yesterday. I thought you let Piccolo train him. Gohan definitely had the potential but I didn’t think he was ready for a fight like yesterday but if you thought he was….” he would shrug his shoulders if he could, “then I trust your decision. You always did what was best for us even when I didn’t understand.”

 It was instant. ChiChi’s anger dissipated like a popped balloon. She saw it in Goku’s eyes. He was telling the truth. “You really didn’t know.”

 “No. When I died, I made sure Gohan was okay. I even joked you wouldn’t be mad since Gohan was fine even though I was dying.” The look on ChiChi’s face was pure shock. It only left Goku thinking one thing. His friends didn’t tell ChiChi the truth. Goku forced down his own shock and rising anger at this revelation. “What they did tell you, ChiChi?”

 “Oh, my Gods,” ChiChi covered her mouth in shock. Her heart raced in her chest and her mind spun. She felt light headed enough to faint but ChiChi paced the room so that didn’t happen. All this time she was angry with Goku when he didn’t do anything wrong. She felt so ashamed of how she acted towards Goku. Damn her temper. Damn his friends. They did it to her again. They kept the truth from her.

 “ChiChi,” Goku was serious, “what did they tell you?”

 “When you weren’t home for dinner, I was annoyed,” she confessed quietly. “You promised you will be back by dinner. I forgave you for missing dinner. I understood it’s been five years since you saw your friends and you lost track of time. I got angry. Gohan needed to be in bed. He had preschool in the morning. If you wanted to spend more time with your friends, you could’ve dropped Gohan off and gone back. If you didn’t want to do that, you could’ve called and I would’ve accepted Gohan missing school for one day. I did think something happened but I rationalized that wasn’t possible. You’re Goku. You’re my husband. You’re the strongest man alive. Nothing could happen to you and you wouldn’t let anything happen to Gohan.”

 ChiChi exhaled as she fanned her face. The tears were threatening to burst like a damn. “When you didn’t return the next morning, I called my Dad, thinking, hoping you and Gohan spent the night there and you forgot to tell me. I convinced myself not to worry but to be angry with you. How dare you not call? How dare you let me worry all night? I convinced myself you were being selfish and absentminded. I knew I would find you on Master Roshi’s island laughing and playing with Gohan.”

 ChiChi couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears fell like a river and Goku felt as if he was being squeezed to death by Vegeta in his ape form. ChiChi must’ve been really worried if she waited all night…..Wait. It finally hit him. I died in the afternoon. “No one came to you the day I died?”

 “No, Goku. I confronted everyone the next day. Master Roshi told me your brother arrived on the island, overpowered you, took Gohan and held him as ransom. He said you and Piccolo formed a temporary truce and left to rescue Gohan. When they found you, he said you were dying.  You were dying not dead when Piccolo took Gohan. Dying, not dead, Goku,” she repeated. “They let me think you agreed Piccolo should take Gohan and train him for the Saiyans.

 “How could they do that? How could they deceive me like that? I was angry at you and it wasn’t your fault.” She gasped at the sudden realization. “They knew you wanted Gohan to come home to me but they let Piccolo take our son. How could they?”  

 No wonder she was so mad at him. Goku didn’t understand his friends. Why didn’t they tell ChiChi the day it happened? If she had known, she wouldn’t have been so mad when she confronted them on Master Roshi’s island and she wouldn’t have been so mad at him after his fight with Vegeta.

 ChiChi dropped to her knees so they were at eye level with each other. “I’m sorry, Goku.” ChiChi pressed her lips to his forehead. Tears from her eyes dropped on his face. “I thought you knew. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

 “You missed my lips.” ChiChi pulled back to see Goku smiling at her. “I can’t forgive you if you miss my lips.” He pouted his lips at her and just as he hoped, ChiChi laughed. She didn’t miss this time as she pressed a passion filled kiss to his lips.

 “Oh, Goku,” ChiChi pressed her forehead to his. “I love you so much. My temper.”

 “Is a turn on.” He winked at her. That earned him another laugh and kiss from ChiChi. “Don’t get so mad at me, ChiChi. You know I can’t do anything about it now.”

 “Oh, Goku,” ChiChi blushed. She couldn’t believe her husband. Only he could make her mad one minute and turn her into a blushing schoolgirl the next.

 “No more tears, ChiChi,” Goku told her. “No more anger. You dealt with this for a year. It’s my turn. Can you promise me that, ChiChi?”

 ChiChi nodded as she wiped the last of her tears away. When Goku was firm, when he had a take charge attitude, she knew to trust in him to make things right. “I promise.”

ChiChi left with her father when visiting hours were over. Without his friends, things were very relaxed with his family. There was some tension between ChiChi and Gohan but Goku promised to work that out, too. Alone with Gohan, Goku saw this opportunity to catch up on the past year with his son and after what ChiChi told him, there was a plenty he needed to talk to his son about.

 “So, Piccolo trained you?”

 Gohan smiled. He was very happy about that. “Yes, Daddy.”

 It was still something hard to wrap his head around. Piccolo, who tried to kill him six years ago and succeeded last year, trained his son? While part of Goku was pleased his son learned how to fight, he didn’t like it wasn’t him. Oh, ChiChi forbid him but he knew at some point, ChiChi would give in. At the time, he didn’t have a winning argument to give her. Gohan was too young to learn how to fight even if he was a bright child.

 In regards of his son this past year, there were so many things he wanted to know. Who told Gohan he was dead? Goku remembered how he reacted seeing his grandpa’s body. Knowing Gohan was a sensitive child, he worried how Gohan reacted to his death. If ChiChi told him, she would know how to handle it but it wasn’t her that told Gohan. It had to be Piccolo.

 “How did you find out about me being dead?”

 “Mr. Piccolo told me. When I woke up, he was the only one around. He told me you were dead and he was going to train me to fight the Saiyans. I didn’t want Mr. Piccolo training me. I wanted you to but he said you were dead.”

 I wanted that to, Gohan.

 Since Gohan was taken without ChiChi’s consent and his friends told her he approved it, Goku realized Piccolo took his son and his friends didn’t do anything. They wouldn’t have lied to ChiChi if they tried to stop Piccolo. If he was informed, he wouldn’t have agreed to it. He might’ve been wrong with that decision because Piccolo did a good job getting Gohan stronger. If ChiChi had given her consent, he would feel better about this situation.  

 “So, Piccolo told you I died.” He imagined Piccolo was very blunt when he told Gohan. “That had to be a shock.”

 Gohan nodded. “It was, Daddy. I cried and Mr. Piccolo threatened to kill me if I didn’t stop. Mr. Piccolo told me about the Saiyans and how I had to fight because I had hidden power in me that could stop them. I didn’t believe him but he threw me towards a mountain and told me to unleash my power.” Gohan laughed at the memory but Goku wasn’t smiling. “I thought I was going to crash into the mountain but something happened and I plowed through it.”

 “Really?” That definitely wouldn’t be Goku’s way. “Why did he do that?”

 “Mr. Piccolo said it was my emotions that made me strong.”

 Emotions? No wonder he never noticed. As long as his diapers were changed, he was fed, held and entertained when he wanted, Gohan was a calm baby. During his toddler years, Gohan was curious but quiet. He didn’t protest when ChiChi gave him lessons. He was obedient and easy going. Gohan never had the outbursts Goku witnessed until the ordeal with Raditz.

 “What was it like living with Piccolo for a year?”

 “I didn’t live with him for the whole year. I lived on my own for six months.”

 What? On his own? “You were by yourself for six months?”

 Gohan nodded. He was happy to share his ordeal with his Dad because he saw it as something they had in common. “It was part of my training. Mr. Piccolo said if I can live on my own for six months, then I’ll be strong enough for him to train me.”

 If ChiChi knew this, she would flip out. He was upset himself. His four-year-old son was left alone to fend for himself for six months. Even he wasn’t that young when he was on his own after his Grandpa died. Goku was glad Gohan proved himself strong enough to survive but he didn’t like the ordeal Piccolo put his son through.  

 “It was scary the first night, Daddy,” Gohan confessed.

 “It was?”

 “I was alone except for all the wild animals that tried to eat me. I had to go to the bathroom outside. I slept on the ground without a sleeping bag. It was so cold. For dinner, I only had some sour apples.” He stuck his tongue out disgusted as if he could still taste it. “It wasn’t Mommy’s cooking.”

 Gohan’s face and the mention of ChiChi’s cooking was the only thing that brought a smile to Goku’s face.  “Nothing is as good as Mommy’s cooking.”

 Gohan laughed. “Yeah. I missed her a lot.”

 He did, too. “So, what did you do for six months?”

 “I ran from dinosaurs and tigers that wanted to eat me. I hid in a cave eating fruits, mushrooms and berries you showed me when we went camping. I was so hungry I even ate insects.” Goku laughed. He remembered how Gohan refused to eat insects when they went camping. “I finally learned how to catch a fish.” Gohan was very proud of himself. Goku was proud, too. He and Gohan went fishing several times but Gohan was too timid to catch a fish. “I thought of you and Mommy a lot. I wanted Mommy to find me. I kept waiting until I understood I had to stay and fight the Saiyans. I remember what you said about sacrifices when you left Mommy and me to go training.” Goku remembered that. He was glad his advice kept his son alive. “I thought of you when I decided to train myself. I remembered the times I watched you training in our backyard or when we went camping.”

 All those times. He really was paying attention.

 “Mr. Piccolo’s punches hurt a lot more than yours.

 “What?” Goku turned his head. “Piccolo hit you?”

 “When we started training,” Gohan explained. “He punched and kicked me a lot. He shot a lot of his Ki at me when I complained. I went to sleep with a lot of bumps and bruises on my face.” Gohan giggled again. “Some days my face was so swollen, it looked like a bee stung me.”

 “Yeah,” Goku forced a laugh to assure Gohan he wasn’t bothered with what he was told. He was very bothered. “I had some tough teachers, too. So, Piccolo was really rough on you?”

 Gohan shrugged. “Yeah, but it wasn’t always rough. He was nice a few times. You’re right, Daddy. Mr. Piccolo isn’t bad like his Daddy. I saw it.”

 “How?”

 “I figured out Mr. Piccolo gave me the sour apples. He gave me new clothes and a sword. Mr. Piccolo left me alone for six months, but that first night, he watched over me. I never told Mr. Piccolo. I knew he would deny it because he likes to act tough at times.” Gohan giggled at the secret he will share with his Daddy. “He never like it when I gave him hugs.”

 “Hugs?” Goku snickered. “You hugged Piccolo?”

 “A few times. He didn’t know what I was doing. I think he thought I was attacking him.”

 Goku laughed out loud. He would’ve like to have seen that. When Piccolo comes back, he will bring this up to him.

 “Daddy, are we monsters?” Gohan suddenly asked.

 “Monsters?” Goku’s stomach suddenly turned. Did Gohan figure it out? “What do you mean?”

 “On my first night alone, I saw the full moon. I don’t remember anything after that but my tail was gone the next morning.”

 Goku wasn’t there but he knew exactly what happened. Gohan changed into a Giant Ape and Piccolo destroyed the moon like Master Roshi did when I transformed at the tournament. Piccolo must’ve removed Gohan’s tail for extra incentive.

 “I forgot about all of it,” Gohan continued unaware of his father’s thoughts, “until our fight with Vegeta. When Krillin and I returned, we saw a giant ape crushing you. I didn’t know what that was but Krillin did. He told Yajirobe we had to cut off his tail. When Yajirobe did, the monster turned back into Vegeta.” Goku mentally cursed himself. If he was strong enough to stop Vegeta before he transformed, Gohan wouldn’t have figured out the secret of his tail. “You told me to look at the ball in the sky. It looked like a full moon. I looked and I don’t remember anything except your and Krillin’s voices. You told me to go after Vegeta but I don’t remember fighting him. I remember going to sleep and waking up in Mommy’s arms. My tail is gone again, too.”

 Goku hoped Gohan had a forgetful memory like him or it’ll be years before he figured it out.

 “Are we monsters?” Gohan repeated.

 That was a tough question to answer. Goku wasn’t sure how to answer since he hadn’t dealt with the truth himself. He was still adjusting to the knowledge he killed his own grandpa. “If we have our tail, we can transform into a giant ape. It doesn’t make us monsters. Transforming into a giant ape is something we can do because we have Saiyan blood in us.”

 That didn’t comfort Gohan at all. “Does Mommy know?”

 “No.” Goku wasn’t sure how to tell her or if he should tell her.

 “Will you tell her?”

 If ChiChi knows, then she’ll know I killed Grandpa. “Let’s keep this between us….. for now,” Goku suggested. “I just came back to life and you’re going in space in a few days. There’s a lot going on right now. We’ll talk more about this when you get back.”

 It sounded good to Gohan. “Okay, Daddy.”

 Speaking of ChiChi, there was something he had to address with Gohan before they went to sleep. “You shouldn’t have yelled at Mommy today.”

 “But she wouldn’t listen, Daddy.” Gohan knew he was wrong but Mommy wasn’t being reasonable. “Mommy wants me to stay and go back to school. I want that but I need to do this. Mr. Piccolo took care of me. I got strong because of him. He gave his life for me and Mommy didn’t care.”

 “Mommy doesn’t know what happened yesterday.” Goku made that clear to Gohan. “Mommy has no idea what happened to you since you saw her a year ago. Until yesterday, I thought you and Mommy were together this past year.” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice at Gohan but he needed to understand this was serious.

 It worked for Gohan’s shoulders slump at Goku’s stern voice. “I guess you didn’t know because you died but Mommy knew, right?”

 “Mommy knew but, Gohan, your mother has been through a lot this year. There are things she went through I’m just now finding out about.” He sighed. “And I’m not happy about it.”

 “Like what, Daddy?”

 Goku smiled at Gohan. He could hear the concern Gohan had for his mother. “Don’t worry about it, Gohan. This is something Daddy has to deal with. Just remember what I said about you and Mommy. Don’t raise your voice at her again.”

 “Yes, Daddy,” Gohan promised.

 Gohan’s promise was enough. Goku knew Gohan wouldn’t do it again. “Let’s go to sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

 “Okay.” Gohan flicked off the lamp bringing darkness to the room. Gohan settled under the covers. “Good night, Daddy. I’m so glad you’re back.”

 “Good night, Gohan. I’m glad to be back, too.”

 Gohan had fallen asleep but an hour after their talk, Goku still laid awake. He was very unsettled by what ChiChi and Gohan told him. That familiar annoyed prickling from earlier returned the more he thought of what his family went through. Gohan’s ordeal bothered him a lot but Piccolo was dead and as tough as he was, he did look out for his son. ChiChi’s ordeal really bothered him. ChiChi was alone for a year. ChiChi didn’t know about him and Gohan for a day. His friends had a lot to answer for when he talked to them again.  

 Part Twenty-One: Family Reunion: Part Two.

 AN: I thought I could put the whole reunion in one chapter but it was getting too long. So I split it in two. The good news is Part Two will be up very soon. In the anime everyone watched Yamcha, Tien and Chaozu die on TV but given they could’ve been anywhere on Earth, I don’t think news cameras would’ve known exactly where to find them even with that Yajirobe gag.

[jaeminlore]

Do You Wanna Dance? | Jaemin

summary: do you wanna dance? hold my hand? words: 3k category: lifeguard!jaemin, fluff, slight angst a/n: this one isn't too bad. also... i love jaemin

You love vacationing in Salos. Granted, this is your first time, but you can't think of anywhere better to spend a month before heading back to New York. You love the sun, the clear air, the sand, the water, and most importantly — the view.

More specifically, the extremely cute boy who perches on the lifeguard stand every morning in front of the resort. Your favorite pastime is sitting in your rented beach chair, getting a tan and watching the already-tanned boy do his job ever-so-cutely.

His name is Jaemin, and you only know this because every morning he does his rounds of making sure guests have paid for their rented chairs and umbrellas. And every morning, around nine, he walks over in his stark red board shorts, with that silver whistle thumping against his lean chest and a voice so deep it makes your toes curl into the sand.

It doesn't help that he's warm, in every sense of the word. He radiates positive energy, and always has a new compliment to give to you or your family. At first, you thought his flattery was the only reason you developed such a crush on the boy. But as the days pass, you realize that can't be true. Because you're mesmerized by his actions and absolutely captivated with the way he talks to the resort guests.

Around noon, an older college student will take his place.

There have mornings when you thought about following him. However stalker-ish it may sound, you're positive he must have an interesting and exciting life. Someone like him, with an award-winning smile and a bright personality, has to.

It's the second Monday of your vacation, when your mother casually mentions that the three of you are from New York.

You're busy staring at the smear of sunscreen that Jaemin hasn't quite rubbed into his shoulder yet. Your arm twitches, instinct telling you to rub it in, but common sense reminds you of how dumb that plan is.

In the midst of your inner conflict, you realize Jaemin is talking to you.

His eyes twinkle, so much so that you'd bet he had real diamonds behind his pupils. "You've been to Broadway shows?"

"Of course," you say, finding strength somewhere in the way Jaemin is looking at you with utter fascination.

"My dream is to perform on Broadway. You should see my room, honestly, I've got so much memorabilia I bought off of Ebay, you'd think I was a season ticket holder."

You find yourself giggling, and Jaemin cocks his head to the side. "No siblings?"

"Just me."

"Friends?"

"Back home."

Jaemin tuts, much like a grandmother after finding out her grandchild has yet to eat any sweets. "Well that just won't do! Not on an island like this, where there's so much to see. You have to share it with friends, not with your parents. That's boring."

He cuts a quick, apologetic look to your parents and continues, "I have a few friends who work all around the boardwalk if you ever want to meet them. And every Friday, there's this bonfire all the kids throw on the beach. It's so much fun. We even go surfing at night sometimes."

Jaemin has this fascinating way of speaking, the kind that pulls you into a fantasy or a daydream and has you thinking so much about how you like his voice, that you end up forgetting to listen to it. It's addicting. "Tell you what, if you want to hang out, give me your number, and I'll text you when I'm off work. If you don't, just tell me and my feelings won't be hurt."

You believe him, but your entire body refuses to reject him, despite how awkward you assume this whole ordeal is going to go. "Okay. Give me your phone."

And that marks the beginning of a happy summer.

☼

When Jaemin meets you at the boardwalk later that evening, he's wearing jean shorts and a pink button down shirt. It has three top buttons undone and for a moment you let yourself stare at his collarbones more than socially acceptable.

You want to think he dressed up for you, but then your eyes pan down to the black crocs on his feet and you think it's a safe bet that he genuinely doesn't care what he looks like.

It kind of makes you like him more.

"So my friends, Jeno and Donghyuck, always hang out at this weird part of the beach. It's like the only strip of public property between the resort's private beach and the university's private beach, so it's barely used. There are these cute little caves too, and crabs scuttle around all the time. I think it's a Salos experience you need."

You nod, only because his large smile is paralyzing your vocal chords. It'd be a miracle if you talk to Jaemin at all during this little trek. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind.

He tells you about his day as the two of you walk down the boardwalk, towards the university. The tone in his voice is light and playful, and when you zone out, he brings you back to reality with a whine and a poke to your side. "You aren't listening to me."

"I am," you say. Because you are. You're listening to the way his voice reverberates against the ocean's breeze. You're taking note of how high his voice gets when he imitates his friends, and how drawn-out his syllables are when he's complaining. You want to tell him all of this, but it sounds strange, like you shouldn't be having these thoughts; not yet. Not so soon.

You walk in silence, only stopping when Jaemin does. "Hyuck hates my crocs."

You're glad he brought up his strange footwear, because it was beginning to feel like the elephant in the room. "Well, you have to admit they aren't fashion forward."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and places his hand on your shoulder. At first, you're startled, but then he bends down to take off his shoes and socks one by one. "And here I was thinking you would be an ally." He snorts and shakes his head, "Anyway, it's just down here."

You slip out of your sandals and follow him down a few wooden stairs until you're under the pier.

Jaemin was right. Under here, there seem to be cave structures, and little pools of water that the tide just couldn't reel back in. Sitting beside one of these pools are two boys, both strangely handsome, and part of you thinks there must be something in the water. Maybe you should drink more of it.

"Y/n, this is Jeno and this is Donghyuck. Guys, this is Y/n."

"Are you a guest at the resort?" The boy with a black rash guard on — Jeno — furrows his brows.

"Yeah, I'm here for a month."

Donghyuck hums. You get distracted by his red hair for a moment, mostly because it reminds you of The Little Mermaid. Then he says a few questionable words, "But Jaemin's never brought around a guest before. Strange."

Jaemin laughs a bit too loudly. "You know what's stranger? I wore my crocs with dinosaur socks."

"Jaemin, you're hopeless. You can't become a broadway star and wear crocs. You'll be bullied by your own costars." And just like that, the three boys forget about the previous conversation and launch into a heated debate about fashion.

So you, not wanting to miss out on any of the fun, jump in to defend Jaemin. But in the back of your mind, the knowledge that you're the first guest Jaemin's ever shown around sticks like a wad of chewing gum.

And that marks the beginning of a confusing summer.

☼

Jaemin's wearing sneakers today, and he says it's because it's his off day, and he can afford to take the extra time to lace up his shoes.

When you comment on how dramatic he is, you receive a serious reply, "I know it sounds dumb, but working two jobs makes it hard to brings sneakers around. I can go barefoot on duty, but then I need something to walk home in. You can understand where sneakers would get complicated since my feet are usually covered in sand.

His logic isn't flawed, until you remember the fact that he wore socks with his crocs, and that alone sounds harder than putting on any type of tennis shoe. Also, he could just rinse his feet and dry them off at the public shower.

But he isn't hurting anyone, so you forget about it. "You work two jobs, huh?"

Jaemin presses his lips together and nods. "The resort in the morning and the university in the evening. It's a simple-enough job, but it definitely takes up the majority of my weekdays. It pays really well, and I need that money for theatre school."

"What's your favorite play? Like, if you could be any character in any play at all, on broadway or off, which would you pick and why?"

Jaemin doesn't ponder for even a moment. "Marius from Les Mis."

"Why?"

"Because... I don't know, I feel like there's more to him than the story tells. Sure, he's so blinded by love he nearly forgets what he's fighting for, but then it twists, and he realizes his love is what he's fighting for. And if I were him for just a day, I'd want to show the audience that it isn't a bad thing to fall in love. It's okay to let happy, safe things consume you. That's what Marius did, and he survived."

You hum. "I never thought about it like that. To be honest, I think I would be Fantine. She really gave up everything for her daughter, and listening the raw emotion behind her song live is just... I don't know how to describe it, but it's something I'll never forget."

"Isn't the theatre magical?" Jaemin does a twirl as he walks, nearly tripling on a loose plank. "I love plays and how a story can be told on a stage. The thought of performing in front of such a big audience, embodying someone else completely, and telling their story with all the passion in your heart makes me long for it."

"Is there a theatre school here?"

"Yeah. It's pretty good, and scouts come around often. I wish I would've gotten accepted into Juilliard, but obviously that didn't happen. I think the officials just assume Salos isn't a real place."

"Na Jaemin, are you making excuses for not getting accepted?"

Jaemin giggles slightly and bumps his shoulder against yours. "Seriously, I sang Waving Through a Window and I don't think I've ever sang anything so nicely in my life. I should've gotten a callback or something."

"You're very sure of yourself. I like that." It comes out strangely, like you tried to take it back before you could even say it.

Jaemin seems appreciative nonetheless, and you happily listen to him talk about how hard it was to gain confidence.

And that marks the beginning of a friendly summer.

☼

For a week, it was acquaintanceship. For the next week, it was friendship. Now, it's something more: you're sure of it.

There's not a bone in your body that doesn't feel strongly about Jaemin, and you don't think you're crazy to assume he thinks the same way as you.

So far, you've spent nearly every day of your vacation with him, and on days the two of you couldn't meet up, he'd call you and the two of you would go on for hours about nothing in particular. It's ridiculous, if you're being honest. There's no logical reason why a boy you met two weeks ago should have such a large effect on you.

But he does, and you aren't sure how to ignore it. You aren't even sure you want to ignore it.

You aren't sure you can ignore it, not when Donghyuck has paid for two tickets on the ferris wheel. He shoves you and Jaemin into one of the colorful pods before the two of you can protest. And suddenly, it's just you and Jaemin, sitting across from each other.

Jaemin looks really pretty. You don't know how he could embody such a delicate word, but he does. He just looks ethereal, and with the sun shining through the pink-tinted windows of the pod, you think he looks even better than usual.

"Y/n, I know I have a wonderful profile but must you keep staring?"

You start and look away before Jaemin can catch the blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. "It's easy to get distracted with you."

"Why?"

Jaemin looks so genuinely confused that you have to burst into laughter. "Why? Because you're extremely handsome, and nice, and wonderful, and sometimes it takes me awhile to process all of that."

"Y/n, are you confessing to me?" Jaemin doesn't look smug, or flirty. He just looks happy, in the simplest sense. He looks joyful, maybe a little bashful.

It makes your stomach do a weird flip. "I guess so."

Jaemin suddenly looks jittery, like his excitement might suddenly burst the bright pink pod open. "Does that mean I can hold your hand when we get out?"

"Yes..?"

And so marks the beginning of a lovesick summer.

☼

"Do you hear music?"

You almost don't hear him, once again, but this time it's because he's holding your hand. With every brush of his thumb against your knuckles, you zone out. Just a bit. He's held your hand every day for nearly two weeks, and you want to say that you will never get used to the feeling, but that simply isn't true.

You're used to the feeling already. It feels perfect, like a missing puzzle piece finally sliding back into its slot. You're used to many things about Jaemin, like the way he always smells faintly of sunscreen, or the way his hair sticks up slightly in the back if he doesn't comb it when it's wet. You're used to him bursting out into song, even if it's hushed and quiet, just because he feels like it. You're used to his odd sense of style when it comes to shoes, and his even odder sense of mellowness when it comes to other's opinions. Except Hyuck's of course, but you've noticed Jaemin has a bit of a soft spot for the six boys who work at the boardwalk.

"What song is it?" You manage to say as Jaemin pulls you into one of the boardwalk's open restaurants. There's a live band inside, singing a mellow song you feel like you've heard before.

"I Like Me Better," Jaemin says quietly.

You look up at his face and notice how entranced he is in the music. "Do you wanna dance with me?"

Jaemin looks somber as he slides his hand across your side and rests it against the small of your back. You rest one of your hands on his shoulder. He gathers your free hand into his and presses them between the two of you, just where your hearts would meet.

The air around you is sweet as Jaemin sways you back and forth. His nose keeps brushing against your forehead, and the comfortable feeling of warmth that pools down to your fingertips makes you want to pause this night forever.

Jaemin sighs and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. "So you're leaving Saturday morning?"

"Yeah," you breathe, "we have tomorrow, if you want to go to the bonfire or something."

Jaemin's grip on your hand tightens for a moment. "Maybe we could go somewhere else instead. Somewhere where we can be alone."

And so marks the beginning of a heartbreaking summer.

☼

On your walk to the little hidden place under the pier, you think of how dumb you must be to fall in love over the course of a month. It's careless, reckless, absolutely idiotic, and yet you wouldn't change a thing about it.

Because Na Jaemin is one of those people you only have the chance of meeting once in your life. He's fleeting, like dew in midday, but he leaves his mark wherever he goes, and you can't help but feel a little thankful that you got to spend some time with him.

However selfish the motives, you hope Jaemin will become a broadway star soon, so that the two of you can cross paths again. Or perhaps, if you can save enough money, you could move down here.

But that all puts a hold on your life. And while Jaemin is everything to you right now, you know giving up your university of choice for him is a dumb move. So you don't do it.

But you want to. You really, really want to.

And when the two of you sit on the sand, shoes and jackets discarded somewhere along the way, Jaemin's lips meet yours. His fingers thread through your hair as he gently pushes you down until you're laying in the sand and he's hovering above you.

He places soft kisses on your lips; innocent, but the soft words of affection he squeezes inbetween each one make your toes curl into the sand once more.

There's sand in your hair, and your shirt, and your shorts, but with the attention Jaemin's giving you right now, you can't find it in yourself to care.

Jaemin's hands feel good on your waist, and his lips taste like honey. He's addicting in every way, and the thought of going without him for even a day makes you want to break down in tears.

But you don't. Not until Jaemin curls against you and falls asleep to the sound of the tide. And you, running your fingers through his hair, let out a choked sob. Because you know you're going to have to wake him up, and when you do, it'll officially be over.

You decide to rip the bandage off. "Jaemin, wake up."

And so marks the beginning of a lonely summer.