#anyway these are charming and i do love me some deadpan humor!

[prompt-master]

Submitted by @dtgvxg

Coolio.

Context:Rex is part of a project involving university age students. Transferred from Corvus Academy, he's in as the Ultimate Security Contractor alongside his friends. And he's also 90% robotics and a living weapon. Also, he and tsumugi are technically from an alternate timeline and older than they look, but that is a whole new can of worms.

Makoto: Rex...

Rex: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

(+)

Miu, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy.

Rex: I will short out the language center of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

(+)

Rex: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

(+)

Rex: I have the sharpest memory here -name one time I forgot something.

Junko: You left me, Mukuro, and Moogs in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Rex: I did that on purpose, try again.

(+)

Tsumugi: Why aren’t you sleeping?

Rex: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: *not buying it*

Rex: ...The nightmares.

Tsumugi: *wrapping their arms around Rex* Awwww, sweetie-

(+)

[After breaking into a research facility taking the successful product of the New Dawn Project]

Hajime, pacing his living room:so…she's like us?

Rex, currently raiding Hajime's kitchen: if by 'like us', you mean a result of heavy human experimentation and are currently filled with forty metric tons of circuitry, machinery, and synthetics, then yes.

Hajime: Okay, cool. So, you basically want me to-

Rex, in the middle of making a club sandwich:-keep an eye on her until there's a secure enough place to put her. You know, babysitting. You've probably done that.

Hajime:a few times, but whatever. However, mind if I tell you what confuses me?

Rex, eating his sandwich: Shoot.

Hajime: why me?

Rex, shrugging: Immediate first thought, I guess.

(+)

Rex, to Ruraka: If I bite into this chicken sandwich and it's sweet, I'm skinning you.

(+)

Johnny: Yo, Kaz, do that R2D2 impression.

Kazuichi, taking a breath:wooooooOOOOOO-

(+)

Junko, acting embarrassed: Wow, you’re such a perverted psycho. Why the fuck would you ask me if I like breasts?

Rex, tired as fuck: [whispers angrily] How many times do I have to tell you we’re at KFC, dumbass?! Why are you like this every time we’re here?

(+)

Rex:*hanging out on the roof*

Kazuichi bursting in: Why didn't you tell me your dad had all that ass?

Rex:*silently looks at him*

Kazuichi: Now hear me out…

(+)

Shuichi: How would you like your pancakes?

Komaru: Plain.

Kaede: With sprinkles!

Hajime: Chocolate chips.

Rex: Potatoes.

*Komaru, Kaede, and Hajime look at Rex*

Rex: What? They're good.

(+)

Rex: Life could be worse, Kaede.

Kaede: Life could be a lot better too!

(+)

Makoto: We need a way to lure in new customers.

Junko: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Johnny: Kaede bath water.

Kaede: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

(+)

Hajime: I think you're still suffering from the effects of your party last night.

Johnny: All I drank was Redbull!

Hajime: How many?

Johnny: Eighteen.

(+)

Rex: Who the fuck broke the toaster?

Makoto: It was Kaede.

Komaru: It was Kaede.

Hajime: Kaede broke it.

Kaede:

Kaede: ...yOU PROMISED-

(+)

Miu: I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.

(+)

Rex: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

Shuichi:

Rex:

Shuichi: ...Please, go back to bed.

(+)

Miu, watching Maki and Peko fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

Rex, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.

Miu: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three?

Peko: Rex.

Maki: Rex.

Rex, the literal living war machine: Me.

(+)

Mukuro: I will find us an armored vehicle and some weapons.

Mukuro: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone.

Rex: Oh, please. We're not children.

*Mukuro leaves*

Rex, casually: ...Eat shit and die.

Tsumugi, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

(+)

Tsumugi, drinking tea: Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.

Rex, dressed in PJs: Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!!

(+)

Hajime: I can't imagine what Rex is planning. But I can tell you two things. We won't like it and it won't be legal.

(+)

Tsumugi: Wow, Rex, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Rex: We literally slept together yesterday.

Tsumugi: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

(+)

Rex: Go fuck yourself.

Tsumugi, smugly: Sure, but only if you watch.

(+)

Rex: I fell-

Tsumugi: From heaven?

Rex: No, I literally fell-

Tsumug, doing this on purpose: In love with me the moment you saw me?

Rex: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Tsumugi: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Rex:…fuck you.

(+)

Makoto, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.

Rex: Wassup?

Kaede: Hi!

Shuichi: Hello.

Hajime: Hey.

Makoto: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!

Komaru: We were out of Doritos.

(+)

Makoto: I think Komaru is in trouble.

Rex: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

(+)

Rex: I know you love them.

Shuichi: I am not in love with Kaede!

Rex, staring at Shuichi, amused: I never said who...

Shuichi: *realizes*

Shuichi: Shit. Well, anyways-

(+)

Kaede: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Byakuya: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

Rex: Fuck you.

(+)

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’*

Kaede: Thanks fam!

Komaru: Oh, really? Cool!

Makoto: *smiles* I love you too.

Hajime: Sounds fake, but okay.

Shuichi: *A flustered mess*

Rex: Big mistake.

(+)

Makoto: The floor is lava!

Kaede: *helps Shuichi onto the counter*

Komaru: *kicks Hajime off the sofa*

Rex: *falls face first onto the floor*

Makoto: ...Are you okay?

Rex, muffled: No.

(+)

Miu: *Kicks Rex's bedroom door down looking panicked*

Rex, tired: The fuck's going on?

Miu: Nobody died!

Rex, now wide awake: What did you do?!

(+)

Leon, to Miu: I cannot relate to your ‘E-Girl’ problems.

(+)

Shuichi, about Maki: She's so terrifying yet so lacking in social skills that the most basic conversation feels like a hostage negotiation situation.

(+)

Miu: I only like three things in this world. Money, Bitches, and the Dewey Decimal System!

(+)

Rex: How did you find me?

Micheal: Oh, I saw a huge explosion and wondered 'now, who could that be?'.

(+)

Miu, currently running on two hours of sleep: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Rex, Done™: Does anyone in this goddamn school ever think before they speak?

(+)

Rex: I don't support the violence. *reveals all implanted weapons* I AM the violence.

(+)

Miaya: You often use humor to deflect your severe trauma.

Rex: Thanks.

Miaya: I didn't say that was a good thing.

Rex: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny.

(+)

[After blowing up a building]

Rex: This is a mistake.

Junko, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Rex: But not today, right?

Junko, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess.

(+)

Kokichi: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside.

Rex:

Rex: Dude, I swear to fuck, if I step outside and all of the goddamn mugs are out on the front lawn...

Kokichi: *Sips coffee from bowl*

(+)

Shuichi: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

Makoto: What the hell do you do?

Shuichi: I die? What kinda question…

(+)

[After Mahiru finds Rex covered in blood and with surrounding corpses]

Rex: Hold on, I can explain.

Mahiru: Really?! Can you now?!

Rex: I can if you give me a minute to think of a convincing lie.

(+)

Fuyuhiko with a gun to Rex's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

Rex: Bold of you to assume either of us'll go to Heaven.

(+)

Rex: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

So, here are the incorrect quotes. Hope you enjoy.

[kalolasfantasyworld]

How about 9 and 21 for the writing excerpt ask game? 😄

Hi Erika! 💕

Thank you so much for your ask!

9. Silvas at the beach

21. Kirch getting hurt at the Royal Knights exam

9. with characters i love 

Silvas at the beach!!! (I love making fun of the fancy, delicate and arrogant Royals that they are)

When everyone was done with the sunscreen, the Silvas rested in their previously picked out sun loungers. Helena was the only one to stand up and excitedly look at the sea. She was going to finally swim in it.

“Let’s go,” she turned to the siblings and clapped her hands.

“Where?” Nebra lifted a pair of sunglasses, she had on and glanced at her puzzled.

“What do you mean where?” Helena raised her eyebrows. “To the water obviously.”

“Yeahhh,” Nebra elongated her words. “No.”

“What?” Helena asked surprised. “We’re at the sea, we need to go swimming.”

“Water would ruin my hairstyle,” the silver haired princess announced.

“Seriously?” Helena asked. She then glanced at the sun lounger on Nebra’s right. “Solid, are you coming?”

“No,” his voice sounded grossed out and he rolled his eyes mockingly.

“Then why did you bring a floaty?” Helena crossed her arms over her chest.

“Because I could,” he said arrogantly and deadpanned.

These two were a lost cause.

“Nozel?” She asked with a hopeful tone.

He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, which looked really funny, because their middle part was covered by his braid. He had once again put on his shirt, but it was opened and revealed his toned stomach and chest.

On his face appeared a smug smirk, but he pretended not to hear her and would not answer.

“The pretty birdies and their hairstyles,” Helena rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna go by myself then,” she looked around. “Why is there no one else here anyway?” She asked.

“We’ve rented this part of the beach, obviously,” Solid commented.

“Why?” Helena whined. She was truly hoping to meet some nobles, who maybe had heard about her mother. Luciana Drazel was supposedly quite a persona in her youth. Helena may had inherited some of her charm and playfulness.

“So no one would dare to bother us,” Nebra explained.

“But there are only nobles and magic knights here,” Helena inquired. “We could mingle, get to know some of them.”

“I’ll pass,” Nebra waved her hand dissuasively.

“Weren’t you supposed to go swimming, Helena?” Solid asked. “You’re blocking the sun.”

“I am not, because the three of you are sitting underneath the parasols anyway,” she furrowed her brows annoyed with his lack of respect.

“We can’t risk getting burned,” Nebra spoke offended.

The whole time Nozel was quietly listening to the conversation. Helena felt that he was enjoying the moment, but something still seemed off.

“Oh so the birdies, also have fair and delicate skin,” Helena joked.

“We do actually!” Solid exclaimed.

Helena just laughed at their irritation. She made a small wave at them and walked over to the sea bank.

21. that i liked, but had to cut

Ughhh so I cut it… and don’t have it anymore

But it was during the Royal Knights Entrance Exam (so future chapter). Kirch gets hurt and I thought he gets sent away to the Infirmary and wrote a whole hilarious Kirch - Helena interaction… then I saw that he stayed at the exam site… 

Kirch why are you taking the humor away from me????

[le-amewzing]

Money Is No Problem!

A Hetalia fic from way back when~

Fic: "Money Is No Problem!" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: pre?China/France, with a dose of America/England on the side bc why not?

Rating: very light T

Words: ~875

Additional info: humor, romance, friendship? XD, 3rd person POV

Summary: There's always something to groan about with America around… -—Or, four Allied nations wind down.

      "Awww… China mugged me again…"

      "Did not, aru! America, you're too greedy!" China fumed as America wandered over to England for unnecessary coddling. "You shouldn't make me out to be the bad guy, aru!"

      "And wouldn't it be the other way around?" England asked America. He furrowed his thick brows. "Technically speaking, since you borrowed more money from China…"

      "But who says 'America mugged me'? Mugging happened, so I beat China to the punchline." America sighed and leaned against England. "I need to drown my sorrows in a cheeseburger…"

      "You're only going to get fatter, America," France commented as he sauntered into the room. He took the open seat beside China and kicked up his heels. "Young men like us need to stay svelte, in-shape, good-looking—"

      "What idiot told you that you were any of those things?" England snorted at their new company.

      France glared at England. "And if someone had ever listened to his big brother, then he'd be good-looking, too," he jabbed.

      "You're all a bunch of idiots, aru," China interrupted with a shrug. "Looks only carry you so far. Money takes care of you the rest of the way…but I'm not working to support America, as well, aru!" he added with another sharp look at the burger-loving fiend. He ignored the pout America wore in response.

      "Then I suppose I better get a second job," England groaned albeit rather halfheartedly, and he dragged America from the room to get a bite to eat.

      France grunted as the two countries left. With only him and China left in the room, it felt fairly awkward, as he'd never had much interaction with China before. He turned to the Asian nation. "So my looks won't be that valuable in the end?"

      "You are correct, aru." China sipped his oolong tea.

      France ignored that China had pulled the tea out of nowhere and crossed his arms. "But my looks have always gotten me by—art, music, fashion, food. I'm always sure about my presentation."

      China wagged a finger in front of France's nose. "Hard work takes you places, France. That's why I've been able to ensnare America in his debts to me, aru."

      France nodded with approval. "Clever, clever… You're like a—a ninja, or something."

      "Are you kidding me, aru? That's Japan, not me."

      "Yes, but you'd probably look better in a cat suit." France made the remark with his ever-charming smile, but China appeared a little disturbed by his words.

      "…you really are a pervert, aru."

      "I'm not the one who looks like a girl."

      "You have long hair, too!"

      "But I pair it with a manly, scruffy beard. Ah, China, I'm merely teasing you…" But France punctuated his words with a wink, so China simply took another sip of his tea.

      "Don't you need to go taunt England some more, aru?"

      France shrugged. "I'll always have time for that. Say…how did America become so indebted to you anyway?"

      "A poor economy, too many conflicts and natural disasters, and the desire to help anything that resembles a stray kitten—America has many foibles, aru. I'm the only one in shape to help him."

      "Do you like America, China?"

      China blushed. "Ugh, that's horrible, aru! America is better left to England's coddling… England is the only one who can stand him, besides Japan, aru."

      "Then who do you like, China?"

      "I don't like scruffy, horny bastards, aru," China deadpanned. His flat expression emphasized his bluntness.

      France froze. "That wasn't very nice, you—you panda."

      "Don't call me a panda!"

      "Actually, 'Panda' suits you very well," France continued, smirking. "You know, a lazy, weak-willed critter…"

      China slammed his teacup down and glared at France. "Weak-willed? I'll show you weak-willed, aru! The power of money makes one strong, aru!"

      France's feet slipped from the table as he shrank back from China. "Uh, erm, sorry…?" He felt rightly stupid when his voice squeaked on the last word. Then again, it squeaked justly so, as China loomed over him. Who knew someone so short could seem so big?

      "You shouldn't tease or taunt those stronger than you, aru." China leaned down so close to France's face, their noses almost touched. "You never know what trouble you might get into, aru… Just look at America."

      "Yes, but then he wins England's attention."

      "True, true… And you don't have anyone's attention to win, aru." China smirked. Oh, yes, he definitely was the predator here.

      "I'm not allowed to run away, am I…?"

      "Why should you, when you walked in here?" China sat back down then, surprisingly calm, and took another sip of his tea.

      France breathed a sigh of relief, though he didn't feel very relieved. A shiver—probably from fright—ran up and down his spine when China's hand rested on his knee under the table and gripped it. "You—You know, my homeland is known for expensive escorts…"

      "You mean whores? So is my country, aru." The Asian man took another sip of his drink.

      "B-But mine cost a pretty penny."

      For the first time, China laughed. "Haven't you heard, aru? Just ask America—I've more than enough money to loan…and to buy anything I want."

      France couldn't decide what was scarier—that laugh, or China's "sweet" smile.

*LOL!* XD This was fun to write! :D I definitely think I'll be doing more Hetalia fics. I even have another China/France idea in mind, thanks to crocious. Though my first loves are USUK and US/Japan… -w- So funny that I'm finally writing Hetalia stuff, considering how much slash I write… 0.0

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

2023 note: "I definitely think I'll be doing more Hetalia fics," she wrote in 2011—and then she didn't. XD As with a few of my other fandoms, this is one where I enjoy more fanart than fanfic, and, while I did read fic for it back in the day…I rly don't anymore?? Altho the idea of USUK still gives me the warm&fuzzies (Alfred's & Arthur's designs are too cute), and I have read too many GerIta doujin that gave me feels (iykyk). But having Francis and Yao interact like this here was fun, for sure. Ahhh, now I just wanna spend a whole day looking up Hetalia fanart…! ;D

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki decides to forge his own path. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Welcome to the start of my new mini series! The idea came from the Send Me a Fic Title ask game. This was a title sent in by @lokistan​! Hope you enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ 

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake​ @electroma89​ @stardust-walker​ @i-would-kneel-for-loki​

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki wondered what his cell on Asgard would look like, for surely he’d be transferred there any day now. For three days now, he’d been held in the belly of a SHIELD base in these ridiculous cuffs. Tony had, at least, sent down that drink Loki had asked for. Whether it was a taunt or a small bit of kindness, Loki honestly wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d downed it in one gulp; Midgardian alcohol never having a strong effect on him. Honestly, he probably should have been concerned if it was poisoned or not. Then again, after everything he’d been through, what did he care?

“Brother,” Loki greeted Thor as he walked into view. “How lovely of you to finally grace me with your presence. Though I take it this is not a leisure visit, hm?”

“You know full well it is not,” the God of Thunder replied with a stern tone.

“And here I was so hoping we could catch up.”

“If you want to talk, then talk, Loki. Explain yourself. What has transpired that you have attacked so many innocent people in this way?”

Loki wanted to laugh at that. Innocent? Who was Thor to talk of innocent with all the unrighteous battles he’d fought, all the blood spilled by his hands? The God of Mischief had done what? Attacked a military base? Made a few people kneel? Corralled a few groups into buildings? Which really was for the own safety so they wouldn’t be in the way of the battles on the streets. But no; conquest was apparently only just when Odin decided to do it. When Thor wanted to follow in his footsteps. But for Loki, there was a whole other set of rules. Of course, no one ever bothered to outline them for the trickster, just let him know he failed to obey them.

Besides, he hadn’t been in his right mind. Rather, he’d been under the mind stone’s influence, under Thanos’s control. He worked his jaw as he tried to figure out whether to say that or not. If he had any sense of self preservation, he probably would have. Yet after living his whole life being told he was weak, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whether Asgardian culture, his family, or he himself were to blame for that, he wasn’t sure. Still, best just to stick with his wit.

“Pardon, brother,” Loki finally replied. “If it bothers you that much, I will stop following your example.”

“You dare insinuate I would do such a thing?” Thor rhetorically asked, appalled and shocked now that his honor was called into question. “Truly, brother, your mind is far more twisted than I had imagined. I see now I should not have advocated for you; you are too far gone. And yet, I already have, so your second chance you shall have.”

“How benevolent,” Loki rolled his eyes.

In reality, Loki was actually kind of touched Thor had spoken on his behalf. It was more than he expected from the blonde. Though, he had a feeling he hadn’t been spoken of in the most flattering light. Regardless, Thor opened his cell and, accompanied by a couple agents, led him to the upper floors of of the base.

The light blinded Loki for a minute as he saw sunlight for the first time since he’d been locked up. The glares passing agents gave him did significantly less to burn him, though. He was used to scorn. Of course, he did feel a wave of regret as he realized he’d probably killed some of their colleagues, their friends. Even if he didn’t have control of himself, he’d still done it. Why did he have to be so weak as to let Thanos gain control of his mind, he wondered? Such horrid deeds had never been in his nature before, though it seemed Thor was ready to believe he’d been evil all along.

The brothers were silent the whole way to Fury’s office, even as they waited for the director to come in. From his seat in front of the desk, Loki surveyed the office. Nice enough, he mused, but could use some more color. Maybe some drapes. Loki wondered if he should laugh that that’s what he was thinking. Though, in all honesty, it might be a chuckle of relief, knowing that his thoughts were finally his own again.

When the director did finally walk in, he and Loki just eyed each other for a moment, sizing the other up. Loki was fairly confident he could get out of this room, out of this base, if he really wanted to. But what was even the point? He wasn’t particularly interested in playing a game of cat and mouse, as SHIELD would try desperately to recover him. No, he’d rather take whatever punishment was about to be doled out. At least for now, anyway.

“Well, thank you for having me,” Loki quipped, being the first to break the silence. “I am afraid I have never been much good at small talk, though. How about that weather?”

“Funny,” Fury deadpanned. “Glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor when you killed my men.”

Loki’s smile faltered ever so slightly. It seemed like people were going to keep bringing that up despite that it had not even been his intention to kill anyone. Injure and temporarily dispose of, sure, but not kill. He supposed that having been on the verge of collapse himself, he wasn’t able to be as precise as he usually was.

“That little stunt you pulled should have you locked up for life,” Fury continued before Loki could respond. “However, we are prepared to offer you a deal. You are going to work for SHIELD to make up for your crimes.”

“Ah. I see. So gracious of you. And my other options are?”

“You come with me back to Asgard,” Thor chimed in, “and father can do whatever he wants with you.”

Well, that created three possible paths, really, Loki figured. Be sent to Asgard and locked up there was option one. Then the second was to be sent back and killed. Was it bad he kind of hoped for the latter? Oh, it definitely was. Yet, that’s how he felt. And then he could stay here, play along until the opportunity came to break free. Live his life as he wanted for once.

“Alright,” Loki agreed with a smile that he was sure would be seen as more untrustworthy than anything else. “When do I begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week of tedious lectures later, Loki was out in the field. He’d listened with rapt attention as he’d undergone his brief training. And somehow they deemed him trustworthy enough to send on a mission already. So, here he was in a Quinjet with his fellow agents. Maybe they didn’t entirely trust him. After all, Clint kept eyeing him with something akin to murder in his gaze.

Still, once they touched down, Loki followed the procedures he’d been taught. Thankfully, they hadn’t trusted him with any of the more important jobs, just securing the perimeter. That, of course, was a mistake on their part. As soon as it was time to break apart from the others, Loki created a double of himself. Meanwhile, he causally strutted over to a nearby motorcycle. Ok, he had to admit he didn’t really know how to ride one, but he’d make do.

Loki’s drive was surprisingly smooth as he escaped his would-be employers. The joke was on them for trying to tie him down, he thought. It was actually rather freeing to be racing along the open road, wind in his raven-black hair. Maybe he could find a nice little secluded home somewhere and live the rest of his days out in peace. And then he saw a burning building. Really, he should just keep going. You Midgardians had forces to deal with this. And yet, something made him pull over and rush inside, saving those he found trapped by the flames.

“I can never thank you enough,” a lady blubbered as she clung to her child, who Loki had just saved. “Please, what’s your name? How can I repay you?”

“You can call me, Loki,” he replied with a charming grin. “And really, no thanks necessary. It is just what I do.”

And as he rode off again, Loki decided he was going to make that last statement true. Look out, Midgard, he thought to himself. Looks like you have got yourself a new superhero.

[tobiosmilktea]

can i request headcannons for tsukishima, kuroo, iwa, and oikawa on their best friend telling them that they like someone so the boys get all sad (or whatever reaction you see fit) but it turns out that their bff was talking about them the whole time + like a confession. thank you in advance 💞

hidden feelings with tsukishima, kuroo, iwaizumi, and oikawa

a/n: sorry for the wait! this was really fun to write, hope you all like it :)) also scenarios are going to take a little longer to publish, but i’ll make sure to get them out asap !

— t. kei

you honestly said it out of the blue

you didn’t think of it much, it was more like a little hint since surely tsukishima was smart enough to figure it out right?

wrong.

you both were in the middle of a study session break and the entire time you could barely focus when the guy you were entirely whipped for was sitting right in front of you

the workspace was small too as both of your materials could barely fit on the table, his face was barely a foot away from yours the entire time

like hOW THE HELL IS HE NOT FLUSTERED RN

it’s been like this for ages though, ever since you two had met the beginning of your first year at karasuno

you immediately fell in love with his humor with how his quite teasing charm was always your favorite type of banter

and you could tell that he had some sort of soft spot for you ever since you could fire back the same spit fire of jokes and teasing just as he did for you

you just hoped that all that teasing (which was literally dRENCHED in flirtations and suggestive humor) that you hoped that a smartass like tsukishima kei would finally get it

but it’s been months and none of it had worked, so you opted for a different approach

you haven’t exactly seen tsukishima jealous and you genuinely wanted to see his reaction that one of his closest friends had taken a liking for someone else

“can i ask you something?” you would start. it was something nonchalant and open ended so of course tsukishima couldn’t really say no

“hm,” he hums as he sipped on his juice box

you cleared your throat, “so there’s this guy i like...”

then a scoff leaves his lips and interrupts you

you give him a look to which his eyes immediately softened as he shook his head, “sorry, keep going.”

“aNYWAY, i’ve liked this guy for a while now and i’ve been hinting that i like him for a while now, but i’m starting to think that he might be too dense to even see.”

tsukishima’s expression was unreadable as he drank the very last of his juice box’s contents before crushing it in his hand, chucking to the other side of the room and into his trash bin

“i think that guy's an idiot.” he concludes, clearing his throat.

“really?” you said, it was almost enticing.

“yeah, honestly i think you shouldn’t be wasting your time on that guy...”

a small pout melted upon your lips as tsukishima’s golden eyes met yours

“why would you think that?”

“cause i think you should pay attention to me instead.” he said out of the blue

“hUH?”

homie really caught you off guard

like you were genuinely confused to whether or not he misspoke or if this was another one of his playful banter

“yeah right,” you muttered, picking up your pencil and continued to jot down notes in attempt to leave the subject behind

“i’m serious.” he deadpanned

your gaze flickered back up to him as you pursed your lips, biting them as you felt your heart beat pound harder against your ribs. your chest was already constricted from the thought of embarrassing yourself for even bringing it up

“who is this guy anyway?” tsukishima continues and it honestly sounded like a genuine threat.

you roll your eyes and scoff, “i was talking about you idiot!”

a small smirk appeared on his lips as if it was the most knowing and condescending look ever, “good, that’s what i thought.”

“hUH?” x2

once again your eyes were wide and confused

“there’s a reason why yamaguchi always leave us alone together.”

— k. tetsurou

it was 2am with you and kuroo being suPER delirious

as it was the start of the weekend, kuroo thought it was a good idea to hangout at your place after vb practice along with kenma

you two were literally the golden trio at nekoma, so it was a given

kenma had left hours ago around 9pm to go home, but honestly there is a good chance he’s still awake and just wanted to leave with the amount of tension between you and kuroo

not to mention he wanted to play games on his computer

kenma literally couldn't stand that awkward air between you and the vb team captain as your usual hangouts didn’t even feel normal anymore

as if you both were stepping on fragile eggshells after what happened earlier during the school day at lunch

it seems like all your advances in terms of trying to flirt with him was always flying over his head

even kenma, who sometimes didn’t pay attention to the conversation as he was too busy playing on his PSP, knew that you would often try and ask kuroo out

even if they were slightly sly and sometimes sounded like normal friendly hangouts, there were so many opportunities to turn it into sometimes, but kuroo was far too cloudy-minded to even spare that thought

but if kenma was being honest, the awkward tension between you and kuroo primarily started cause of him

he was the one who proposed the plan that you should try and make kuroo jealous. if he did have a negative reaction to you saying you liked someone else, then he liked you back. but if he didn’t, then no harm done!

honestly, it sounded like a plan and you deadass said it in the middle of lunch

you three were out in the courtyard eating your bentos when you suddenly said, “so there’s this guy i really like...”

and it immediately got kuroo’s attention

“who?” he immediately asked.

you feigned a smirk to appear on your lips as you simply shrugged to stay in the act, “just someone.” you swatted the thought away, “anyway, i’m just asking on how i should confess to them—”

“it’s yaku isn’t it?” kuroo suddenly concluded

“what? no—”

“then wHO?”

“someone who’s too stupid to see i have feelings for him!” you suddenly spew out.

kuroo’s eyes peered suspiciously at you, nodding as he turned away. “i see how it is, (y/n). i’d honestly like to meet this guy.”

“trust me, you already know.”

and perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say as kuroo immediately started badgering you with annoying questions once again

throughout the entire day you had been rejecting to answer which basically leads to right now

you and kuroo alone at 2am in your room, sitting in awkward tension as kuroo literally refuses to leave unless you tell him who you liked

“at least give me their initials, (y/n)” the vb captain begged

“noPE!”

“please?” he continued to asked, “i’ll literally buy you all your favorite snacks, just tell me who!”

you roll your eyes, preparing to say no again, but the thought suddenly hits you

why was he so determined to know who you liked if he in fact, doesn’t have feelings for you?

“why do you care so much about who i like?” you suddenly asked 

“c-cause i’m your best friend and i care about you!”

you peered your eyes at him, “kenma is also my best friend and cares about me, and yet you don’t hear him pestering me about my love life.”

you swore you saw the tiniest bit of pink blush on kuroo’s cheeks that perhaps his ears were tinted as well

he looked absolutely beautiful under the moonlight

a sigh left his lips, “because i want to be the only boy in your life.” (besides kenma, but he didn’t mention it cause it was just you and him)

you couldn’t help but feel a smile melt upon your visage, “then i guess it’s a good thing that you’re the one i like.”

— i. hajime

you and iwaizumi were staying after school as you two were on clean up duty

the hallways were pretty empty besides a few handfuls of students also cleaning classrooms or at club activities

it was just the usual, but you surely weren’t acting normal that even iwaizumi noticed

he’s one of your closest friends ever since middle school and you liked to believe that he considered you two best friends, but he usually minded his own business when it came to you

perhaps that’s what made you act so different around him

you weren’t the same (y/n) that would walk with him to and from school, the one who would eat every lunch with him and oikawa, the one who he wouldn’t have to worry about so much since oikawa was primarily his source of stress

but recently, that seemed to have transferred onto you ever since iwaizumi had been too preoccupied with oikawa and volleyball, that you making your feelings for him extremely obvious wasn’t enough

you two have been cleaning for about thirty minutes in (almost complete) silence

really, the only sound coming from the room was the clattering and squeaking of moving chairs and desks around to mop

iwaizumi wasn’t usually the one to get so fed up, especially with you

but this time was different

“so are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you going to be childish and act like oikawa by giving me the silent treatment?” he starts and you immediately felt your body freeze, but immediately caught yourself and continued to clean

you hear him sigh defeated to which caused your body to turn towards him, “did i do something wrong?”

there was obvious hurt lacing his voice, that he perhaps jeopardized one of his closest friendships over something he didn’t know anything about

you were aware of this and immediately approached him, “you didn’t do anything wrong...” you hesitate as you didn’t know how to follow it up with, “i’m just being moody that’s all”

honestly, not your best excuse but it was workable

“then tell me what’s wrong, (y/n). i’m your best friend that’s what i’m supposed to do.”

and there it was. that look and attitude that made you fall in love with him in the first place

as if a huge wave just crashed upon you, your heartbeat intensified the moment you noticed how close you were to him

you gulped down your rising nerves, almost panicking as the words miraculously left your mouth. “i don’t think the guy i like likes me back.”

it was safe to say, that that definitely wasn’t what iwaizumi was expecting

if anything he was surprised and almost obligated as your best friend to comfort you in that moment, but he couldn’t help but feel almost betrayed

he knew he had no right to as he was nothing more than just a friend to you. so he swallowed his pride and nods with a faux smile on his lips

“it’s okay, (y/n). there’s so many other guys out there.”

then it came down like a sudden downpour, “but i only want you.”

“w-what?” it left his lips almost like a whisper as his eyes widened into saucers

“i’m talking about you, idiot.” you gently hit his hard chest, “but you obviously don’t like me back as you blatantly overlook what i say whenever i flirt with you."

“(y/n), i—”

you continued muttering in a hurried and embarrassed spiel that you didn’t even notice him trying to talk, “it’s okay, i’m ready for rejection, i just don’t want this to ruin our friendship—”

“it won’t because i literally like you too (y/n).” he finally cut in to say, taking you aback

“oh.” you say, still in shock, “cool.”

— o. tooru

you were in quite the predicament

rather than giving oikawa the silent treatment, he was giving it to you instead

basically, what happened was that perhaps you got a bit fed up with how popular oikawa was with girls and how they would often times flock him in packs sporadically throughout the day

and as if the world was out to get you, the packs of girls would always seem to come over whenever it was just you and oikawa alone

surely, from the three years you and oikawa had been friends, you’d assume that you’d get used to it

but you haven’t.

in the first two years of hs, you were pretty lenient and understanding and you truly didn’t mind it but now in your last and final year, you were tired of it

surely it didn’t help when that annoyance was fueled by your pent up feelings for oikawa in the past three years

the only reason why you hesitated to even say anything about your feelings was that you never really had the chance. with so many pretty people in and outside of aoba johsai, oikawa can be guaranteed a significant other within a snap

you felt easily replaceable, not to mention you definitely weren’t his first priority

he was too busy trying to get to nationals and to beat shiratorizawa that a relationship was the last thing on his mind

so here you two were, cleaning up the equipment in the gym in complete silence as volleyball practice had just finished as you were one of the managers

it had been like this for the past three days, being forced to physically interact, yet still not speaking to each other

like right now, you and oikawa were folding up the net neatly to eventually it got shorter and shorter that you and him had met closely in the middle

oikawa seemed to have paused the moment your hand made contact with his to make the final fold and that was when he completely broke

“ugh, i can’t take it anymore!” he exclaimed, shocking you slightly as you took the folded net from him. “i don’t get it (y/n), why can’t you just tell me who you like? i promise i’ll keep it secret!”

“be quiet,” you mutter as you turn your back towards him, “if you keep acting like this, i won’t tell you.”

he groaned once more, his feet dragging on the ground as he stumbled towards you. you froze under his touch the moment his rested his head on your shoulder.

“i just want to know cause i don’t want you to look at other guys.”

god, he was so fucking adorable

you hated to say it, but you gave into him and his charisma and how his easy words could have you complying

“fine,” you sigh, turning to face him. your breath hitched in your throat when you realize how close he was, “he’s on the volleyball team, he’s a third year—”

oikawa cut you off, “it’s iwaizumi isn’t it? i knew it! honestly, no offense to iwa, but i think i would make a better boyfriend, don’t you think?”

you couldn’t help but chuckle with a smile on your face, “you think so?”

“i know so.”

“well, fortunately for you, you’re the guy i really like.” you confessed, watching his expression brighten.

“so you made me go through three days of silent treatment just to finally date you?”

you shrug, asking, “was it worth it?” before being engulfed completely into a hug

“yes.”

a/n: this hasn’t been proofread if you couldn’t tell 👀

[eyoricka]

Pete’s assistant - Pete Davidson

Words: 2160

Warning: 2 curse words

Requested: yes

You had been Pete’s assistant for many years now. You had begun as an intern at NBC and that’s how you met Pete. The two of you immediately clicked, there was like a strange bond between you like you always knew each other or were meant to meet, to work together. So at the end of your internship, Pete asked you if you wanted to be his assistant, to help him with pretty much everything. He wasn’t famous enough to really have a publicist, so you also fill up this role. It was funny at first. Pete was nice to you, never asking for anything impossible to get. Contrary to many other celebs with their assistant, he treated you like his equal. Planning interviews was something you enjoyed, he was mostly in some presented by his friends, so it was pretty chill, and you learnt so much. You let Pete took charge of his social media presence, he was more than okay at it, was natural and able to create a connection with his fans.

However, at some point everything changed. Pete got way bigger, he was famous like really famous, not just known by SNL and stand-ups afficionados.  Things got out of hand quickly. You still liked to work for Pete, he was still adorable to you but handling negative comments, the infamous song about him, people reactions and the repercussions on his mental health was a nightmare. You had too much to think about: to make sure he was feeling okay or at least not too bad, to make sure he would sleep, eat, not take too much drugs, go to work, go outside, try to stop the continuous harassment… Pete hired a publicist to take some weight out of your shoulders and have someone who would focus only on his impacted public image. Even though, Pete was probably at rock bottom, it was nice to see that he would still be kind to you, trying to smile a bit when you were ding your best to cheer him up.

And this is how the problems began for you. You knew the rule number one of any assistant: never fall for your boss. But you couldn’t help it. You had always loved his personality however you never considered having feelings for him. However, seeing him hurt, fragile but still caring about his close circle, still trying his best everyday for people he loved, still being nice when he could easily be an ass and take the heartbreak as an excuse, was enough to make you acknowledged that maybe you wanted to be more than a friend to him.

You decided to keep your emotions for yourself. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself or lose your job and friend for feelings that would never be reciprocated. To forget about them, you went on dates with several people, it was a failure. Every time you could stop yourself from comparing your date with Pete. Even if some people were funny enough, smart enough, kind enough, they were simply not enough. A date with them was pleasant but you couldn’t picture more, and it would be cruel to force a relationship with someone you didn’t have feelings for just to hide your current crush. So after some dates you gave up on the idea of finding someone for the moment and preferred to take time for yourself. As the year went on, you were the witness of Pete’s different and non-working relationships. You were happy for him, truly. He was able to move on which was great and he felt more like himself. But it still hurt to see him get far too involved in relations that were doomed to fail. He was too intense and passionate for his own good. You advised him to follow your example and take time for himself, to love himself and understand what he wanted, needed from a partner. Surprisingly, he did it and it did good on him.

A few months later, you were at a small gathering to celebrate Pete’s Netflix comedy special. The reviews were good, and the audience was following, it was great to watch Pete’s career on track to success, he would finally be recognized for his art. You were talking to Dave about the process of writing when you are down and how cathartic humor is. You glanced distractedly several times in Pete’s direction confident that you were discreet. As your drink was empty, you scanned the room to find the nearest bottle of a beverage you like. Your eyes met Colson’s ones and he grinned mischievously at you. You rose an eyebrow wondering why he looked like a devious elf and quickly manage to appease your thoughts, rationalizing that it was only Colson being his drunk and high self.  

As you made your way to the counter full of bottles to pour you a glass, you felt two hands clapped your shoulders. You turned promptly and faced Colson who was smirking even wider.

“What do you want?” You asked not surprised by his presence but cautious about what he was about to say.

“Well just to chat with a lovely assistant, it has been a while since we haven’t talk.” He replied sweetly, an innocent smile replacing his smirk and you understood fully well why so many girls were crazy about him.

“Cut the crap” You deadpanned, not in the mood for his banter.

“I still wonder why I try to sugarcoat things with you” he mumbled certainly more for himself. After some long seconds of silence, he let out in a charming voice: “Don’t you think that would be the perfect night?”

You weren’t sure of what he was implying. He liked flirting but you seriously doubt that he was since he would never cross that border, maybe he was just bored or wanted to tease you. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer that would fuel his joust.

“You don’t ask me the perfect night for what?” He added kind of amused by your lack of reaction. “Well I will tell you anyway because else it wouldn’t be funny. So my dear don’t you think it would be the perfect night to admit your badly hidden feelings for you know who.”

You gulped at those words. You attempt to come back with a witty, chill repartee that would show that you were diverted by this non-sense and not knowing about what he was talking about, but your mind was blank. You were sure that tonight before sleeping while your mind would replay this scene, you would think of many clever replies.

“Still no answer, I bet that this time it is not for the same reason, right” Colson joked, and you cursed yourself.

“I just don’t understand what you mean” you eventually managed to say, cringing at this lame attempt to act cool.

“Your blushing cheeks and stiff body are telling the opposite” Nice even your own body was now betraying you.

“I get that you are bored Colson and even if it would probably be the funniest thing of your night, I don’t plan on becoming the biggest idiot of the party for your entertainment. I know Pete doesn’t like me and it is okay, you can’t control someone’s feelings and…”

“I hope you realize that you already are the biggest idiot of the night” He cut you “and Pete is too. I can’t get my head around the fact that you are both blind, incapable of seeing the way the other looks at you. Shshshsh don’t reply, don’t want to waste my time on hearing you tell me that I am lying, imagining stuffs, and complaining about my behavior, I‘ve already had this long speech from Pete. You can do whatever you want, go tell him or don’t but just know that you don’t risk much. And don’t count on him to come, he is sure he has no chance. So please have the balls for the both you.” He was about to leave you there with many contradictory thoughts filling your head when he leaned to whisper: “But really please do tell him tonight, I bet some bucks with John that you would be the brave one, don’t prove me wrong.”

You nudged him and he burst out of laughter as you showered him with imaginative curses. You decided to sit few minutes just to take time to reflect. You needed to process what you just heard. If indeed had feelings for you, things would change drastically. You felt yourself slowly but surely drifting into panic. A part of your brain was screaming that it was lies maybe because it was easier to accept than the truth. You had dreamt of this but it was a dream and you weren’t sure that you were ready for that right now. Intrusive thoughts were running in your head defeating your ounce of rationality and calm. One of your hand was clenched on your drink firmly and you closed your eyes while inhaling and exhaling to relax yourself. From the outside you certainly looked crazy but you didn’t care, it didn’t even crossed your mind.

You were so focused on your breath that you didn’t notice someone siting next to you and neither feel this person hand on yours. When you opened your eyes, you detect that you were no longer alone and the person with you was none other than Pete. He softly smiled at you and you felt like dying inside, this smile was enough to make you forget any doubts, anything, to appease. You smiled back at him kindly. He seemed to be struggling to say something and you took the lead.

“I guess that Colson talks to you too, huh?” You questioned, your voice was a bit shaking and you had eaten half of your words however you knew that he had understood you.

“Kind of” he stated and your next words died in your throat, you were losing your confidence. Those tow simple words held a clear message: yes we talk but no I don’t like you. “Actually, John did most of the talking” he joked or at least try to. He was also way to stress to really be funny.

You wanted to say something, to admit what was consuming you inside nevertheless you were scared, you refuse to be too blunt on this. You had to be subtle, to find a way to make him realize but without saying it, so if the feelings were not reciprocal it would not be too awkward.

“Colson mentioned a bet on us” You hid your reddening face behind your drink and casually take a sip or at least as casually as you can considering your current position.

“I heard about it too” His fingers were drumming against his tights in nervousness. “I am kind of bother by it you see.” You nodded, you felt crushed inside, of course he would be bothered, who would not be bothered to be shipped with someone they don’t have feelings for. You did everything you could to remain still and not crack, not now, not in front of him, of his friends. “I don’t really any of them to get this money like I guess I want them to be right, but I don’t like them betting on us”. You blinked several times not sure if you were on the same page. “I am not very clear, I am? Well obviously, I am not, I have never been very clear in those situations. Maybe clearer than now, because now what I am saying is a mess, well normally it is confused but understandable. And I am rambling right now and I don’t even know why. Maybe because it is intimidating, like we know each other for so long and what I am saying is that it is different.”  

He had lost you with his confused sentences, was he trying to reject you or the contrary. You wanted a certain answer, not an interpretation based on a wrong reading of the situation, actually you did not want this answer, you needed it. He was still digressing when you took the courage to interrupt him: “Pete please listen to me okay.” He shut up and looked at you in the eyes, sort of hanging of the words you would pronounce. “I like you Pete and not like I like Ricky or John, I mean not like a friend. Do you understand?”

There were few awfully long seconds of silence before you felt Pete’s forehead against yours and his hands on yours. “Fuck, you are a lot better at verbalizing this than I am” He smiled brightly, he was so beautiful when he was happy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked still quite unsure and you gently pressed your lips against his. It was a short and sweet kiss, the kind that promise wonderful tomorrows full of love, full of life.

[hannie-dul-set]

→ stuck on you (like a spotlight). PREVIEW.

LOVE U LIKE A LIGHTSHOW collection.

SUMMARY. star crossed lovers— but cross out the lovers, because he doesn’t even know you. yet even when he doesn’t know your name, your face, you couldn’t stop the gravity of being pulled back into the constant motion of you finding your attention stuck on him, like the spotlight shining above his head on the stage where you’ve always seen him.

PAIRING. huang renjun x female! reader GENRE. strangers to lovers! au, high school! au, rival schools! au, singer renjun & public speaker mc, school competitions, PINING, romance, fluff, humor, mild angst, featuring idols from other groups (also let’s pretend hyunjin & felix are from sme and not jyp for the sake of plot) WARNINGS. lots of swearing, anxiety, depictions of an extremely unhealthy school culture of competitiveness, the use of too many metaphors LMAO WORD COUNT. actual fic: around 10k, preview: 818 RELEASE DATE. late february  TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @leejunini @astroboy-lele @unkown5tar @w0nni3wrld @charm-art @bingbingbish @sehunniepot @pretty-junjun @elcie-chxn @khcnehle @kthpurplesyou @lcvemark @sweetlyjaem @peachyyjaes @tteok-bokkies @bat-shark-repellant @lebrookestore @lenaluvs @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape (ask/dm to be tagged!)​

NOTE. first out of the four and i’m super excited! also do not be fooled by the preview, this is not a skz fic HAHSGFJ this is perhaps the less true to life accurate out of all of the fics in the collection, and if you could relate to our darling mc in this, then my heart is out for you <//3 hang in there, buddy JSGJS.

preview under the cut!

“Oh, Y/N.”

When Hyunjin had too much energy to release, he only had only one victim to release it on.

You.

“You must be really excited now that sports season is almost over. Next week is a big week for you, after all. I can only imagine how thrilled you are—”

A big week for you, sure. But thrilled and excited? Not so much. There was nothing thrilling and exciting about your upcoming competition. You couldn’t put a finger on what he was babbling about.

Of course, that was until the next words made their way into your ears, and you were this close to headbutting him.

“—thrilled to finally see your crush again after a whole ass year.”

You could only retort with one thing.

“Eat a horseshoe, Hwang.”

Hyunjin let out a tiny whine when you jerked your head back, hitting him right on the chin which caused the other three boys to laugh at your friend’s pain. He finally stopped strangling you with both of his arms, opting to nurse the injury that you’d inflicted instead. You didn’t even hit him that hard, yet he looked as if you’d just skinned his dog alive in front of a live audience. “C’mon, when was the last time you’ve seen him? Isn’t your heart just dying to catch a glimpse of your fairy boy after all this time?”

“Please, stop talking. You’re putting me in a position here,” you hissed, smacking his arm. “I’m already getting dirty stares from my schoolmates for ‘fraternizing with the enemy’, or some shit. Don’t make it worse.”

Your last assault on him finally forced him into silence because Hyunjin didn’t bother pushing your buttons anymore, and was instead more focused on shooting you glares and grumbles. That didn’t mean you were safe, though.

“Liar,” Jisung clicked his tongue. Oh, how you wanted to pelt him in the eye with your grape juice box. He was sitting two levels below you. The perfect height. “You’ve never been bothered about that, little miss. You can’t hide your gushy wushy embarrassment from us.”

“The guy’s not here anyway— his coach skewed him away before he could even enter the bus. Maybe you’d only get a glimpse of him next week,” Felix joined in, looking at you as he spoke with earnestness, but diverted his attention to the person on your other side. “Seungminnie, looks like you’re competing with him again.”

Seungmin simply shrugged. “What a surprise.”

While this week and last week were focused more on the sports events, next week would focus on solo competitions— quiz bees (reminder to pay respects to the half-dead contestants), public speaking (reminder to not become part of the half-dead, yourself), and of course—

Singing.

Reminder to not lose your shit at the event.

Jisung let out a long, remorseful sigh, eyes closed with a hand falling above his forehead, and all. “Oh, to be torn between supporting a friend and a not-even-friend-so-definitely-not-a-lover for the full support of your heart,” he opened one eye to look at you. “Though it is evident where your heart rests, madam. I admire your persistence even at the face of a brick wall.”

“Shut it,” you groaned. God, they were really reeling out a violent side from you today. “It’s not like I’m hoping for anything more, anyway.”

“That’s because you’ve never tried to turn into something more, Y/N,” even Seungmin was joining the shit on Y/N like a bunch of laxative high pigeons party, now. “Last time you went to their school and chickened out the moment you spotted him.”

“Holy shit, that was hilarious,” Hyunjin chimed it with a cackle. “I was shocked to see her— even more so when she said she was there to treat us to dinner. Her? Treating us to dinner? I thought she finally had a change of heart but oh, if only I knew back then.”

Felix let out an uncontrollable burst of laughter, to which he quickly suppressed in guilt after seeing your look of utter betrayal. Seungmin decided to brush over that topic for your sake. “You know, it’d be easy to set you two up with these two gremlins creeping around.”

A grimace crept onto your face at the referral to the two gremlins— Felix, maybe you could trust. He was smiling at you and nodding so cutely that you might actually take up on the offer, expression softening (blatant lie). But then your gaze darted over Hyunjin and it felt like looking at his shit eating grin alone was analogous to feasting on an entire freaking lemon.

“No, thank you,” you deadpanned, looking away. An offended gasp, and you didn’t even have to look  to know from whom it came from. “And like I said— I’m fine with the distance.”

You sipped on your near-forgotten grape juice, now slightly warm and disgusting, and you glowered.

“It’s fine.”

© hannie-dul-set.

[illneverrecover]

the sweetest thing (M) | myg

➛pairing: Min Yoongi x reader ➛genre: florist!Yoongi, baker!Reader, florist AU, baker AU, enemies to lovers, humor, smut. ➛word count: 4799 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: not too many, this is pretty sweet & soft. Heavy petting, cursing, making out, neck kissing, biting/marking, icing used in a dirty manner, implied sex, mild dirty talk, bad puns, witty banter. ➛summary: Min Yoongi was sure you moved in next door to his floral shop just to ruin him and his business. But when he needs your help, he realizes that it’s much sweeter working together then apart. ➛notes: Hehehe. My sweet little angel bb Paril requested some florist shop Yoongi E2L with baker reader, and I just had to oblige. I love writing Yoongi, he truly just is perfect for me to channel sass and sarcasm and a bit of sweetness. Thank you for commissioning me @serensama​ (and the kind bank of @quinnkook​), I hope you enjoy this and that it’s what you were looking for! I love you tons and I’m proud to be your soulmate. 🖤 ➛song: People - AGUST D for the sweet fluff  & Poison - GOT7  for the dirty dirty.

“She’s doing this on purpose.”

“No she isn’t, hyung. That doesn’t make sense.” Namjoon picks up a rose, twirling it in inspection. “Does she even know you exist?”

Yoongi scoffs then, eyes darting from the arrangement in front of him to glare at Namjoon. “Of course she knows I exist. Our shops share a wall.”

Instead of replying, Namjoon rolls his eyes before refocusing, carefully watching the stem as his hand slides the knife down it to remove any thorns. Yoongi accepts his silence as defeat, puffing his chest. “So, like I was saying - she’s doing this on purpose, and she’s going to bleed me dry.”

The door swings open then, Hoseok and Jungkook both moving to the workstations with arms full of supplies, the latter’s eyes wide as he picks up on the conversation.

“Wait! Are you talking about Y/N noona?”

“Yes, and how she’s killing business-”

“Isn’t she just the coolest?!” Jungkook interrupts, beaming over at Yoongi. “Have you seen the designs for her flower cookies? And how she’s selling twelve of them in a pack and calling them ‘coo-quets’? Get it? Like instead of-”

“Bouquets, yes Jungkook, I get the pun.” Yoongi mutters dryly, setting the finished arrangement in it’s vase and sliding it to the side. Hoseok is laughing, so hard in fact that he misses Yoongi picking up a roll of tape until it beams him in the head.

“Hey! What was that for!” rubbing his crown, he glares at the florist before reluctantly picking up the tape, fixing the customer label to the side of the vase before moving it over to the fridge. “Don’t be violent with me just because you have the hots for the pretty baker next door.”

Yoongi sputters, hand slapping the top of the table. “I do not have the hots for-”

“Yeah yeah, we know, you definitely aren’t into Y/N, at all,” Namjoon deadpans, reaching into the box for his next rose to dethorn. “You don’t find her attractive, you didn’t stalk her and pretend to be a customer just so you could see inside her business, absolutely nothing to see here.”

“Your sarcasm is noted and also not appreciated,” Yoongi sniffs, before turning away from the taller man all together. “All I’m saying is, ever since she moved into that building, she’s caused issues. And now this is how she decides to promote for the Spring Blossom festival? It feels like an attack.”

“But hyung, it’s called the ‘Spring Blossom Festival’, I think leaning towards flowers would be kind of an obvious choice, right?” Jungkook prompts, head tilting in naive innocence. 

Yoongi sighs heavily, head dropping to his chest, and wonders not for the first time why he thought hiring his friends to work with him was a good idea. 

Maybe Jungkook had a point; maybe they all did. But that wasn’t enough to convince Yoongi that your motives were all sincere in nature. He was telling the truth when he said that ever since you had moved in next door, things had gone haywire for his small, locally loved floral shop. 

He had only been in the space for about a year, but the street it was on had picked up in popularity with a new pub and restaurant concept on the corner, and a local farmers market moving in on the weekends. Quickly, his little business grew, people coming to him when seeking unique arrangements that were both beautiful and affordable. As demand increased, so did the need to hire more hands, and his friends had been enthusiastic to join his payroll. 

For the most part, things had been smooth sailing.Training the others had been relatively easy, and what shortcomings they had, he was able to find a new strength they each brought to the business. He was comfortable, thriving, going to bed with a full belly and fat wallet, and it’s all he could ask for.

Until you.

Yoongi didn’t even see you until after you had already bought and renovated the building next door, the sign for your bakery going up and accenting the coral pink of the painted brick perfectly. He had thought it was cute; how bright and cheery your shop looked, how you were always dressed in flattering sundresses and heels, despite spending your days in a kitchen baking. He walked past your place daily to get to his own, and had found himself curious about what you were like, how good your food was, how successful you’d be.

He figured the aesthetic alone would bring in some customers, if not the increased foot traffic the farmers market brought in, and he wasn’t wrong. Your soft opening had gone well, a small line forming outside the building to Yoongi’s amusement. Word of mouth worked like a charm in your neighborhood, and a steady flow of regulars would greet him on his trek into work each morning at sunrise as they awaited their breakfast pastry and hot cup of coffee.

While this was great for you, it wasn’t so good for him. Your customers would always line up in the direction where they would block his window, meaning people walking by couldn’t get a glimpse at the creations he had displayed in the windows. Not to mention the littering - flurries of light brown napkins with your logo stamped in the middle usually lining the street in front of the shops, seemingly taunting him.

And then, the festival came. The Spring Blossom Festival, to be exact. 

It was clever, he’d admit that much. The word play of ‘cookie’ and ‘bouquet’, the different color options of the edible flowers painstakingly drawn onto perfectly baked sugar cookies. You had really put thought and effort into the design, and he wasn’t surprised that it seemed to be a hit, dominating the first several days of the festival.

But that didn’t mean he liked it.

He watched helplessly as his sales dipped, as customers that would’ve wanted the real thing instead switched it up for prettily decorated consumable flowers, all cooing and preening over the treats in their matching boxes.

Yoongi had to retaliate. What else was there for him to do?

After watching you hang neon pink flyers up around the street, he had made some as well, deciding he’d place them conveniently directly over your own. Matching the paper to yours had been Namjoon's suggestion, and Yoongi had thought it was genius. That seemed to bring in a few more customers, but the lull still remained, his till and bank account making it painfully apparent.

It had been Jungkook's idea to photo bomb some of your promotional pictures when he spotted you posing in front of the shop, pristine desserts in hand and a floral dress on to match. Yoongi had shook his head but ultimately agreed, handing him one of his best designed bouquets and nudging him towards your bakery. Trying to make it look natural, he strolled back and forth in the background, making sure the flowers in his hand were always towards the camera, that he looked as if he was enjoying the festival as a patron. After about the fifth pass through, the boxy lipped young man taking your pictures had scowled, shouting after him to get out of the way. You had laughed, invited Jungkook to talk with you, even posted one of the pictures with him in it on your Instagram like it hadn’t phased you at all.

Now, here he was with only two more days left of the festival - a time that he should be making double - and with nothing more to show for it. Pre-made and custom bouquets lined the shop windows, hoping to entice anyone passing by, but most remained untouched and without a home to go to.

He was desperate.

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" Hoseok interjects, an eyebrow raised. "Maybe you can explain what's happening, see if she'd be willing to help out or team up or something."

Scoffing loudly, Yoongi kicks at the ground. "Team up? You think I want to team up with her? This is a serious business I run here, you know."

Hoseok gives Namjoon a passing glance over the blonde's head, not that he notices, too stuck inside his thoughts. It's Jungkook's loud voice that breaks the silence once more.

"Y/N noona is really nice, you know. And her cookies are so yummy, I bet she would love to help us!"

"You've tried her cookies, Jungkook?!" Yoongi’s voice raises, incredulous. "This is a sudden yet inevitable betrayal, you know. It really be your own friends."

"Seriously, Yoongi. You think she's cute anyway. Might as well go over under the pretense of business and at least see if you can score her number." Namjoon deadpanned, dropping his knife and making sure to show him every ounce of pleading desperation on his face.

Yoongi ponders for a beat or two, pretending to mull it over all the while recognizing that it couldn't hurt anything to go chat with his new neighbor, introduce himself. Who knows, maybe there was a deal to be made?

You thought he was so cute, the grumpy little florist next door.

His mouth was perpetually in a pout, bottom lip upturned enough that it made him look like he was always inspecting, always exasperated. His eyes were sharp, but not in a judgmental way - more like in the way where you knew nothing went past his scrutinizing gaze, and they were offset by the soft white blonde of his hair, in the refined silver hoops that lined his ears. 

Your neighbor Yoongi was a walking contradiction, and you couldn’t help but to be charmed by him.

You had heard rumors about him, heard people's worries of you moving into the building next to his very popular floral shop, but you didn't pay them any mind. You had yet to meet someone that you couldn't make a friend, and if he was impervious to your charms, he definitely wouldn't be able to deny your best coworker, Taehyung, and his infectious personality.

But despite your attempts, you always seemed to miss him, unable to properly introduce yourself when he bustled by during the morning rush, or when you were cleaning up shop. It didn't stop you from observing, from watching the way he eyed your building, the way he'd upturn his lip at the line forming outside the door at daybreak.

He seemed so easily ruffled, so annoyed but in this endearing way, and you couldn't help but want to get to know him, to see if you could get him to open up.

Especially once he started his attempts at sabotage.

They had been subtle at first - the flyer trick something you wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for Jin, who made sure to check and replace any torn advertisements at the end of each day. The designs had looked so similar that you didn't even double take until the elder had pointed out the word change, how the name of Yoongi's business adorned the top of the page. Jin's eyes were ablaze, but you had just laughed, instructing him to leave the ones he found alone.

But it made you more curious, further intrigued by your flower selling neighbor who took such lengths to garner business, and you couldn't help but want to see what he did next.

It had been Taehyung that grumbled about some tall dark haired boy ruining all your promotional shots, though he had smirked the whole time he showed you the images you ended up with. You recognized that he was a worker at the florist next door almost immediately, the immaculate arrangement he carried carefully in his hands striking your intuition further.

Finally, Taehyung had shouted at him, and you called the boy over to introduce himself despite his red cheeks and ducking gaze. You learned his name was Jungkook and that he was indeed a coworker and friend of Yoongi’s, and that he was just trying to help, though he wouldn't go into much more detail after that. You had chatted with him briefly, offering him a cookie for his troubles, and promised him that you weren’t mad about his attempts at photobombing.

And you were telling the truth - you really couldn't be annoyed at these attempts to thwart your advertising, instead laughing at each new picture, making sure you picked one where the bouquet was clearly visible behind you as you held an open box of 'coo-quets'.

It isn't hatred, you don't think, that drives your neighbor to do this, but you aren't quite sure where to go from here. He still hadn't introduced himself, and with how busy things were during the festival, you hadn't found the time to do the same either, working long hours to keep afloat with your orders and walk-ins. You wanted to ask him why he was so annoyed with you, what he had against your little bakery, but you told yourself there would be time for that later when the heat died down.

Not to mention, Taehyung had been chomping at the bit for an excuse to go introduce himself.

"Y/N," he whined, dragging the last syllable of your name out into an obnoxious tune. "I just want to go make friends! Why won't you let me?"

"Because someone needs to run the register for these customers, Tae. Jin and I are elbow deep in cookie dough, and Jimin can't run both sides of the counter himself."

The tall man sulks, bottom lip jutting out as his caramel hair flops into his face. "You have a point, I guess. But once the festival is done, I'm going to go introduce myself and invite them over for coffee."

You smile at him then, eyeing him from the corner of your vision as your hands continue to delicately trace colored icing on the cookies in front of you. "That sounds like a deal, Tae."

"Oh! Me too though!" Jimin shouts, turning from the counter to glance into the kitchen of your shop. Normally you'd have the doors to the kitchen closed, but with the day about to start, it made it easier to prop them open while you ran back and forth between the two stations. "I want to go say hi too. They look like really cool guys!"

I'd have to agree, you thought to yourself, picturing the sharp eyed man in your mind, but you stay silent.

To say you were startled when you heard a knock at the back door would be an understatement, even more so when you saw who it was - Yoongi, the pouting florist, blonde hair flopped into his face. He was wearing a fluffy white sweater, a dark green apron tied around his neck and waist, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, like he had been prepping for hours - much like you.

With a single look, you shooed the other men out of the kitchen to the front, opening the door to your guest.

"Well hey! You must be Yoongi, I'm-"

"Y/N."

"Oh, I didn't know you knew who I was!" you smile warmly, gesturing for him to step into the kitchen.

"Well, I had seen you move in, of course. Plus, Jungkook hasn't shut up since he met you," he mutters, shaking his hair out of his face as he took several steps inside. "He's like a stray cat, you know. Once you feed him, he's your friend for life."

That made you laugh, a hand rising to cover your mouth, and you couldn’t help the smirk that follows. "Well, he was too cute not to feed. Is that why you're here? Are you another stray who would like to be fed?"

Yoongi’s cheeks flush then, a dusty red that you think would look perfect in the petals of a rose, and you promise yourself to try to recreate it in frosting later.

“Ha, that’s funny,” he clears his throat, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. “Actually, I was coming to talk to you to see if we could make an arrangement, you know - as one business owner to another.”

“Is that so?” you raise a brow, hands resting at your hips. “And what kind of deal would that be?”

You're surprised at how honest Yoongi is when he explains his situation, lays his hardships bare before you right there in the stuffy heat of your kitchen. He does manage to at least look a little embarrassed when he admits what he did in order to ramp up business, and you can’t stop your heart from softening as he finishes his request, wringing his hands as he looks at you expectantly. 

“So, what you’re saying is - you want to work together, make something that the festival goers will love but will help both of our shops - is that right?”

He stands tall then, shoulders rolling back as his gaze pierces through your own. “That’s right. Think of it as a ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’ type of deal.”

“Is this another cat analogy?”

Yoongi groans, and you giggle at the roll of his eyes. 

“I already regret this.”

Stepping closer, you peer up at the florist, watching the way his eyes widen at your proximity. “No, you don’t. And technically I think I’m doing all the scratching here, but that’s okay. I think we could make a good team, Min Yoongi.”

The event is crowded, more so than Yoongi could have ever imagined.

The tables he and you had placed in front of both buildings were stuffed with goods, the heads of your coworkers ducking back inside each entrance to refill them when they got low. Customers were milling about; some taking in the offerings, others lining up in wait to purchase, and the sheer number of people had Yoongi grinning widely.

It was your idea, of course - to offer up a half dozen flowers with a half dozen of cookies, the perfect set. That isn’t to say Yoongi didn’t help; the concept of decorating the tables and dressing formally to stand out being his own, as well as offering to match the flowers and cookies to each other. The red roses and pair set cookies were flying off the shelves fast, but so were the purple calla lilies and pink tulips, which made him smile. 

You had been more enthusiastic with the plan, gladly altering the designs of your ‘coo-quets’ to match, and it was clearly a smash hit. Yoongi thought back to how easily it had been to talk to you, to be honest, to spill his guts - how quickly you were willing to help, how natural it had been to form a plan, to laugh with you, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

Yoongi was thrilled with the sales and popularity, of course, but found himself distracted despite the success. He was happy to see his employees grinning and getting along with your own, glad to see the till fill knowing that he’d be able to pay everyone on time, but more than anything, he was ecstatic to see you smile, to see you shine in the sunset pink summer dress that was brushing the tops of your knees.

He himself had donned some light grey dress pants with a white button down, the sleeves carefully rolled to expose his forearms, jacket long forgotten in the heat of the outdoors. You had beamed at him when he first arrived, nodding approvingly at his attire, and he couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his heart at your approval.

And now as the day wore on, every time his elbow knocked into yours, your bodies stepping and swaying as you worked, Yoongi felt a heat build; a sizzling lick of electricity that was sparking between the two of you that he couldn’t ignore.

“You know,” he leans in, mouth inches from your ear as you grin widely at a customer. “I think we do make a pretty good team, Y/N.”

He relishes in the way your skin warms, in the way he watches your cheeks blush so prettily at his words, and feels hopefulness tighten his chest. 

“We do, Min Yoongi, especially now that you aren’t actively trying to ruin me.” You grit between frozen teeth, your smile unwavering until the patron is out of hearing range. 

“Hey, I didn’t try to ruin anything-”

“Okay, how about ‘mildly inconvenience’ then?”

Chuckling, he raises an arm to rub at the back of his neck, and you follow the lines in his arm as he does so, watching the rippling of muscles beneath the cuff of his rolled up sleeve with interest. 

“I guess that’s fair.”

It was amazing how well things turned out, how fast the day had blown by. Jin had slaved away in the kitchen making sure that there were enough baked goods for everyone, Jimin and Taehyung teaming up with Jungkook and Hoseok from the florist shop to run items back and forth and greet customers. 

But it was Yoongi who had stolen the air from your lungs and any sense you had left rattling in your head. 

You could see now why his business had flourished before you arrived, why the customers continued to return to him when they needed their next arrangement. He was such a good and intent listener, his eyes sharp and focused on whomever was speaking to him. Even in the case of the event, where the flowers were pre-arranged, he still listened, shook and held the hand of each buyer as they spoke, fawning over his flowers. 

It was evident he was passionate about his business, which made the fact that he had been willing to do whatever it took - including partnering up with you - even more admirable.

 The sun was going down by the time things seemed to slow, your hands aching from the intricate icing work and feet throbbing from running around in heels. It seemed that everyone had satisfied smiles of hard work etched on their faces, and pleasant adoration inflated your gut at the sight, especially when you landed on Yoongi. 

The edges of his mouth had finally relaxed, his eyes creasing into half moons more and more as he laughed, stress leaving his body. It was a beautiful sight, if you could admit such a thing.

When the final customer waved goodbye, heading down to the main street for the firework finale of the festival, you left the giddy boys out front to begin cleaning, bones aching at the prospect of all the dishes that needed to be done, but not wanting to drag out the pain any longer than necessary.

“Need some help?” Yoongi was posed in the doorway, arm pressing against the jam, one leg crossed over the other, as if it was normal for him to be effortlessly handsome in sweaty bakery kitchens.

“That would be great,” you smirk, tilting your head. “I wash, you dry?”

And so that’s how you find yourself alone with Yoongi, sweat dotting his hairline as he gives you side glances and small talk over drying mixing bowls. You talk about everything and nothing, conversation flowing freely, and you feel drunk on his proximity, on the way he talks with his hands, the way his voice pitches when he laughs. His white button down is transparent in the spots where water had hit, and even the hint of a peak of his skin made you feel a bit dizzy. 

“Thank you for helping me with all of this, by the way. It would have taken hours to do by myself.”

“It’s no big deal. Plus, I’m sure one of those guys out there would’ve came back if you batted your lashes,” he leers, nodding to indicate the young men of both businesses that were currently playing around out front. “Especially Jungkook. He’s been all ‘Y/N noona this, Y/N noona that’ ever since he met you.”

Handing him a dish, you look up at him through your lashes, blinking coquettishly. “Well, can you blame him? I mean, just look at me. All this and I can cook? I’m the full package.”

You were joking; a teasing lilt to your voice as you refocused on the task at hand, but you could feel the intensity of his stare heating you thoroughly, forcing you to meet his eyes once more. 

“You really are,” he murmurs, voice low but clear, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re funny and talented and so smart that it’s kind of intimidating,” he looks back at the pot in his hand, drying it thoroughly before setting it aside. “But you’re also kind hearted, and willing to listen and help those in need, even when you barely know them.”

He turns then, stepping closer until his breath is fanning across your cheek, his arms caging you to the sink as you turn to face him fully. 

“Not to mention, you’re more beautiful than any flower I’ve ever seen.”

Dropping your head to stifle the giggles, you hear him wince loudly.

“That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

Nodding, you meet his eyes once more. “It was, but I have a few baking puns that will make you cringe.”

“Hit me with one.” 

Raising on your toes, you lean into him, tentatively placing a palm on his chest. “Is that a baguette in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

His shoulders start shaking before he lets out a loud laugh, smile widening to show his teeth in a way that made your heart flip. Catching his breath, he sighs, leaning to rest his forehead against yours.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Wanna find out?”

Kissing Min Yoongi was a whirlwind, a focused intensity pressed in a powerful dance of his mouth on yours. Your lips answered in kind effortlessly, needing no prompting to follow his lead, to pull his bottom lip between your teeth. Electricity sparks at the base of your skull with each touch of his pout, each lick of his tongue into your mouth, and you feel your knees threaten to give out as he cradles your jaw in his hand, holding you in place.

You aren’t sure when your hands had tangled in his hair, or when he had lifted you to straddle his waist, but you found yourself moving, his body twisting to place you on the cool metal surface of your work space. Hissing as the chill bit into your bare legs, you seek the warmth of his mouth harder, legs wrapping around his form to tug him closer to you, to grind your center against him. 

He’s hard, impossibly hard, and he’s whispering all the things he wants to do to you in the shell of your ear, promising all the things he’ll make you feel with his tongue, his cock. You pull him back to your mouth, kissing him deeper, gasping when he dips his finger in the open icing container on the table, dragging it from the edge of your lips down to your chest.

He trails down your throat, sucking and nipping a marked path to your collarbone, licking the frosting off as he goes -  as if it was the sweetest thing - until he reaches your breasts, cupping them. As you pant out groans of his name, you can’t help but think you’re glad that it’s Yoongi who’s hiking your dress up around your waist, that he is the first man to help you defile your quaint bakery’s kitchen, filling it with moans.

It isn’t until you stumble out just shy of an hour later hand in hand with Yoongi, smelling of sex with mussed hair and lips swollen, that you remember your coworkers - and that little window that shows the spacious floor plan of said kitchen. 

Taehyung is shaking his head, tsking quietly with his arm draped around Jungkook. “Shame on you, Y/N. Poor Kookie here was just trying to bring the tables inside to be helpful, and instead he got traumatized.”

Namjoon scoffs then, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realize ‘getting a boner’ was now considered trauma.”

“Hey!” Jungkook yells, eyes darting between you and Yoongi. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

Cheeks flushing, you stifle a giggle once more, looking over to the blonde man whose fingers were still intertwined tightly with your own. Instead of embarrassment, or concern, you just feel a giddy flush of joy as you lean into him.

Yoongi sighs, exasperated, free palm rising to rub at the back of his neck. “Remind me again why I don’t fire them?”

“Because you love them. And, they work for cheap.”

Chuckling, he turns towards you, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I always knew I liked you.”

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Changed my update schedule to two times a week (probably Sunday and Wednesdays) because three days was kind of overwhelming hahah. Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback!! I appreciate every single one!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Being shot at?

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

The Pogues come over later to hang out like usual. No one mentions last night's party. I don't know whether its because they don't want to talk about it or we're pretending like it never happened. I'm fine with either.

I sit next to Kie who taps her fingers on a bongo and bobs her head to her own beat. Pope's shuffling a deck of cards to my right and JJ sips on another beer across from me. It's hard to concentrate on what they're talking about. I'm too busy locked in my own head, thinking about what Peterkin said - foster care - what life would be like if we were taken away. Would I ever see my friends again? Would John B and I be in the same foster home? The thought of being separated makes me sick.

"Look, I'm calling it off. All right?" John B pulls me out of my thoughts. JJ rolls his eyes at my brother and glances at me. "Peterkin said if we stay out of the marsh, she'll help us with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ asks. "An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop."

John B sighs. "All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun."

Here we go.

"You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass."

"Topper was gonna drown me?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Funny," John B deadpans.

"Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Tell me some more. Come on." I can tell by the look on John B's face that he's getting annoyed. It's pinched and he keeps rolling his eyes.

JJ steps closer to him. "They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!" He turns around and punches one of the small volleyballs we have tied in a string like a decoration.

"Look, it's okay!" Kie tries to calm him down.

"No, it's not okay! It's not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh." JJ comes back. "That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." He turns to me and points. "I know you do." Then he looks at Pope. "I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you -" He turns to Kie. "I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother? But you and me, and Marleigh, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't all right?"

"JJ -" I sigh.

"And I know it didn't use to be that way for you -"

John B shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's it?"

John B shoves past JJ. "Just get out of my way, bro."

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." Well thats never good. "You got the key to Cameron's big boat right?"

"No," John B says, already knowing where JJ's head is at.

"There's scuba gear. We borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man. You don't see rich kids going into foster care, do you?"

Here's the thing about JJ. He can be really convincing, which is usually the reason he and I get into the most trouble. Because I always fall for what he's saying. He gives me hope when I don't think there is any. He can be surprisingly optimistic sometimes. And when he is, I fall for his charm and agree with everything he says. If he told me to jump off a bridge, I probably would.

When he looks at me, my lips tug upwards into a smile. This creates a domino effect, and soon the other Pogues get excited. John B looks at me, trying to look disapproving but I shrug in response. I mean, JJ's right. What do we have to lose?

                                                       ~ ~ ~

I light a match and ignite my gas stove to make myself lunch. A can of chicken noodle soup that's been in my food closet for who knows how long. John B left to grab the tanks from the Cameron's boat, so the rest of us are waiting here until he comes to pick us up.

"You're eating soup? Its like a hundred degrees outside." JJ walks into the kitchen and lifts himself up on the counter next to the stove.

I stir the liquid around with a wooden spoon and smirk. "Do you see any other edible food around here?" JJ chuckles at that. He knows better than anyone how horrible John B and I are at food shopping. "I meant to go to the store today but..." I sigh. "I've been busy."

JJ pauses, causing me to look up at him. He's usually so quick with his wit and humor. Something I admire and love about him. How he always manages to put a smile on my face with some dumb remark or a sarcastic reply. Only now he's staring at me with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

"You mean other than the impending doom that is foster care that's going to hit me and John B in the near future?" I say sarcastically. I turn the stove off and grab two bowls out of the cabinet behind JJ's head. He ducks for me and my waist presses against his thigh. I pour half the soup in each bowl and hand him one with a spoon.

"Yeah, I mean other than that," JJ says. I blow on the liquid on my spoon to cool it down. The steam that comes up from my bowl already makes me feel hot.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He gives me a look that says he's doesn't believe me, but I ignore it and he doesn't press me on it. Truth is, I am fine. I just have a lot of my mind but I'm going to do my best not to let it ruin my summer. JJ got me excited again. He's promising an adventure and possibly a fortune. He's right. John B and I have nothing to lose. If we don't go on the marsh today, DCS will find another reason to snatch us. So why hold ourselves back?

"Mar, JJ, he's back!" Kie calls out to us from my yard.

JJ sips the last of his broth out of the bowl and I shovel in the last couple of scoops into my mouth. We throw the bowls in the sink and run to the dock where John B and the others are waiting for us.

Pope directs John B to the part of the marsh where we found the wreck. I sit next to Kie in the front of the boat. She's looking at the two tanks that John B was able to snag off the Cameron's boat. Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she studies the gear.

"This is empty," Kie says, looking up at my brother who stops the boat when we find the sunken Grady-White. "You took empty tanks?"

"I..." John B says slowly. He definitely didn't look at it before he took it.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full," Kie says, pulling the tank to her left closer to her. "Its enough for one of us."

"Love it when a plan comes together," I say sarcastically and pass a look to JJ who rolls his eyes.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kie asks.

I purse my lips and look around at my friends and brother. None of them speak up.

"Uh..."

"Anybody?" Kie asks.

"It's kind of a Kook sport," I say.

Pope raises his hand. "I...read about it."

"Great, Pope read about it so someone's gonna die," Kie says.

JJ walks towards us and picks up the mouth piece and shrugs his shoulders. "Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?"

Pope answers, "If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends."

JJ glances between Pope and the rest of us. "Bends like..." JJ bends forward, purposely sticking his butt out, "bend over and..."

Pope cuts him off. "The bends kill you."

JJ snaps straight up. "Right."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "I'll do it."

"Uh, I don't think..." JJ starts to say but my brother cuts him off.

"No. I'll do it."

"What, why?" I turn to my brother and send him a glare.

"Because Pope just said it can kill you and you don't listen to instructions very well." My brother glares back at me. I roll my eyes. He does have a point and evidence to prove it. I usually follow my own gut and ignore others' directions. And because I don't want him to bring up past events, I decide not to fight him on it.

"He has a point," JJ says, earning a punch in the bicep from me. He looks at my brother. "You can dive. I'm cool with that."

"Since when can you dive?" Kie says not liking the idea any more than me.

He shrugs. "I'll do it. It's fine."

"Let me do some calculations real quick," Pope says as John B starts putting on the scuba gear.

"You serious?" JJ asks.

"That boat's about thirty feet down. Okay? So it'll take twenty five minutes at that depth. Twenty five. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about...ten feet."

Contrary to popular belief, I do the actual listening to instructions, I just don't always follow through. But I process everything Pope just said and think of a way to make this easier for John B.

I shimmy out of my jean shorts and pull my top over my head, leaving me in a purple and white striped bikini. Without saying anything, I jump into the water with my shirt.

"Uh..." Pope says, looking into the water where I just disappeared. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I liked it. A lot," JJ says, staring at the same spot. John B slaps the back JJ's head and glares daggers in his direction. JJ pretends to clear his throat and turns away from John B.  "Uh, so..."

Pope pretends to focus on his calculations again, not wanting to get caught by John B for staring at his sister too. "Yeah. Uh, when you uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?"

I guesstimate how deep ten feet is and tie my shirt around the chain attached to our anchor. I look one last time at the blurry image of the sunken boat and pull myself back up.

"Hey," I say to grab their attention. They all look at me. "I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop."

John B nods. "Cool."

I stay in the water, loving how the water feels around me like a protective blanket. I listen to Pope explain the important parts of diving. There's some kind of meter he has to pay attention to to keep track of time.

"Okay, how much do I need?" John B asks.

"Unclear," Pope answers. "Breathe as little as possible."

JJ slaps John B on the shoulder. "Zen. Think zen, you know?"

John B turns to the water, preparing to jump in next to me.  "Yeah. Got it."

"Hey," Pope says, stopping him. "If we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so better get a move on."

"No pressure or anything," I add.

"Copy that," John B says.

Kie approaches my brother and stands in front of him. She's really close to him, almost inches away from his face. Then she leans in and kisses his cheek slowly. Way more intimate than usual. My eyes widen in surprise and I look at Pope and JJ to see their reaction. They mirror mine.

"Diver down?" Kie says softly.

"Diver down." John B says just as softly.

"See ya, dude," JJ says.

John B jumps in the water and sinks down below me. I lay on my back in the water and bathe in the warmth of the sun above me. I even close my eyes, letting relaxation overcome me. I could probably sleep here if I wanted too.

"Shit, JJ," Pope curses, catching my attention.

"Guys, that's the police," Kie says.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," JJ says, glancing at me.

My eyes go wide with anxiety. I swim closer to the boat and look up at JJ. "JJ, they can't know I'm here. If they find me-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's gonna be okay. They're not going to, just stay there."

I nod and press myself tighter against the boat.

"Just act freaking normal," Kie says through clenched teeth.

I can hear the sirens coming closer until I feel their boat bump against ours. I flinch against it and kick my feet faster to stay afloat. I look down at the water, but I can't see John B. My heart races at the thought of him running out of air.

"Evening," I hear one of the cops greet my friends.

"JJ, tie it off," Pope says.

"How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?" The officer asks them.

"No."

"No. Wow."

My friends play dumb. I look up, finding comfort in seeing JJ's long hair. I can tell he's trying hard not to look down at me.

"Why - why is it closed?" Pope asks.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." The officer explains.

"Oh."

"See anything?"

"No." JJ purses his lips and shrugs.  

"No boats," Kie says. "No."

There's a pause and for a split second I think he's gonna call their bluff. But he doesn't. "Where are the other two kids you always hang with? The twins? They here?"

I bite my bottom lip hard in anticipation for what's to come. He knows we're here. He has to. I can tell by how suspicious he sounds. I look back down in the water, John B still invisible to me. I don't know how much time he has left, but he's definitely running out of it.

"They both had to work," I hear Kie answer.

"Hm," The officer hums. "I'm gonna check your little boat out."

Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look around for a place to hide, but the only thing surrounding me is water. I'm going to have to go under.

"Yeah." JJ coughs, risking one last look at me before pretending to help the officer into the boat. "Yeah, hop aboard."

I push myself under the water and swim directly underneath the boat. I open my eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt water. I can see John B's silhouette by my T-shirt and the blurry light of his timer.

Thirty more seconds pass. I swing my arms upwards, pushing myself deeper into the water. The shadow of the cops' boat is still next to ours. My lungs are screaming at me for for air like they're tearing into my chest. Just like John B, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last down here.

My body reactively gulps for air, forcing myself to swallow the salt water. It feels like a stab in my chest, my throat on fire. I've got to pop back up to the surface or I'm going to drown.

Just as I'm about to reveal myself, the shadow of the boat drives off. I push myself up, coughing up the water I swallowed and gasping for air. Less than a second later, John B pops up next to me.

"Oh, god! Jesus Christ," Kie says with her eyes closed and her head looking up.

"Don't scare us like that!" Pope says.

JJ watches me instead of John B, concern laced into his features. As I feel my heart go back to its normal pace, I smile at him and laugh the anxiety off. "You good?" He asks me. I nod and let him help me back up to the boat. "How'd it go down there?" He asks my brother. "Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything?" John B scoffs and holds up a dark velvet bag.

"Yeah, there we go!" JJ claps his shoulders. "That's my boy!"

"Jeez, dude," Pope sighs.

"You okay?" Kie asks John B.

John B pants as he swims closer to the boat. "Yeah, I ran out of air."

"You and me both," I tell him.

John B pulls himself up. When he stands, he's met face to face with Kie who shoves him back playfully. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh...we took care of 'em." Pope says, trying to act like he wasn't going to piss his pants the entire time he was talking to them.

"My bad," John B laughs.

"You're all good."

"Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother," JJ says.

I move to the back of the boat to ring my wet hair out when something catches me eye. Its another boat, but it doesn't look like the one the cops were just using.

"Hey, guys? Guys!" I call louder to grab their attention. "Bogey, two o'clock."

"What?" JJ comes up next to me and eyes the boat that's making its way closer to us.

"Do you recognize the boat?" Pope asks.

"I've never seen it," I answer.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I can make out two people, I think men, standing in the front. They keep their eyes straight on us. No laughing or talking like a couple of buds would on a boat day in the marsh.

"What are they doing here? The marsh is closed," Kie says.

"Let's not stick around and find out." JJ places his hands on my bare waist and pulls me to the side so he can pull up the anchor.

"JJ get the bowline," John B says, not realizing that JJ was already on it.

"Yeah."

"Should we wait on 'em?" Pope asks.

"No. No. We should leave now. Right now," Kie says, looking directly at John B.

"Go get the stern," John B tells me. "Go!"

I kneel next to JJ and help him. Similar to how I felt in the water, my heart beats violently against my chest and my breathing becomes static. I try not to think of the fear that creeps through my veins as I help release the boat from it's hold in the marsh.

"Guys, don't wait for us! Go!" JJ yells.

"Go!" Kie says.

"Pull out the stern!" Pope yells at us.

I yank the chain hard, revealing the slimy anchor covered in seaweed and moss.

"I don't like this," I mutter to JJ between clenched teeth.

John B pulls away from the wreck. JJ looks between me and the boat that still driving in our direction. "Are they coming for us?"

"Maybe they're fishing," Pope says.

"Go, go, go, go!"

"Go into the marsh," I tell my brother, constantly glancing between him and the other boat.

"Let's go," Kie says. I can hear fear creep into her voice and her hands shake around the drivers seat she's holding with a death grip.

"I'm going. Act natural!" John B hisses and revs the engine of the boat.

He takes a left turn into the marsh. I watch anxiously for the people in the other boat to make its move.

They turn left.

"Guys, they're following us!" Kie says.

"This can't be good," Pope says.

"Dude, you gotta go faster!" JJ says.

"I'm going!" John B yells back.

"Gun it!"

I look behind the boat. They're getting closer. Too close. Can't say I'm surprised. The HMS Pogue is no match for their boat that looks more expensive than my house. However, something catches my eye. Something long the guy in the passenger seat is holding and pointing right at us.

"Is that..." I mutter before I'm cut off by exactly what I was going to say.

The gun shot rings through my ears as if the person who shot it was standing next to me. Before I can react, JJ pulls me down to the floor of our boat by my waist and covers me with his own body. I gotta say, this isn't how I pictured him being on top of me. His left arm outlines my head, keeping me face down while other bullets pass our boat. The cries of my friends are dull through the blood pounding in my ears and my heart inching its way up my throat.

"Holy shit!" Kie shouts.

"John B, get down!" JJ yells.

I try looking up at my brother but JJ's hold is strong. John B's still behind the wheel, trying his best to duck from bullets without crashing the boat.

"We're gonna die!" Pope yells.

I try looking around the boat for anything we can use against these guys. Of course JJ decides to leave the gun he stole at my house for the day, leaving us practically useless against these two strangers.

My eyes find a net pooling in front of Kie's face as she keeps her head down. I try crawling out of JJ's embrace which only makes him tighten his arms around me.

"Kie!" I shout. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The net!"

Immediately she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She pulls herself away from Pope and army crawls to the wide net. This only makes my friends yell at her, telling her to get down, but she doesn't listen.

"Get down, Kie!" John B shouts.

Another gun shot echoes through the air, making me flinch closer into JJ.

Kie throws the net overboard towards their boat and drops back down to her knees. The sound of the other boat's engine clanging against the net gets my head to perk up and I watch Kie's reaction. She's surprisingly smiling. When she looks at me, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head in disbelief because that just worked. Their boats gets stuck.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Pope says.

One last gun shot rings through my ears before we make our getaway.  I pull myself off the floor and look back at the boat one last time. We severely underestimated how important finding that boat was. Whatever John B found was worth killing us for.

A couple minutes later, John B pulls the boat up to the Chateau and docks it by the wooden slacks that I used as a bed last night. My friends cheer and actually smile after what just happened.

"That was insane!" Kie says.

"Whoo!"

I look at my brother with adrenaline rushing straight to me head. I feel giddy about finding out what JB found - what must be so important. "What do you think it is?"

"Gotta be money, right?" He asks, looking at me.

"That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mills," JJ says, leisurely danglingly his arm around my shoulders.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope says loudly, forcing everyone's attention at him who now looks at us sheepishly.

"Wow, Pope," John B laughs. "That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation," He says. "Open the bag!"

"Jeez." JJ whistles.

"We almost died over this," Pope says like its an explanation. But he's right. We did almost die for this, which is why I need to know what's in it now.

John B opens the velvet bag. Something heavier than money falls out of it with a thunk. Its round and metal. Dirty and dented. Physically ugly and maybe priceless, but it looks familiar. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to study it and rack my brain through where I've seen it before.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right," Pope sighs at the sight of our treasure. "Good job, everybody. We found a compass."

The word compass hits me like a train and my body goes slack like my limbs just turned into jell-o. John B is already looking at me, shocked at the real meaning of what we just found. I push myself in front of JJ and look down at the object he's holding. Priceless maybe true to the others but not to me. Not to John B. This means everything.

JJ looks between John B and I and laughs nervously at our reactions. "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

My brows furrow together in confusion as I try to wrap my head around how we just found our dad's possession on another man's boat. A dead man's boat. But I feel blank. Like someone just wiped all my thoughts and memories.

"This was our father's compass," I say emotionless, keeping my eyes on JB who looks equally as terrified.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz  @jeeperky​ @realistic-breadstick  @moniamaybank  @urbinoutfiters​ @brebear121​  @x-lulu​

[robininthelabyrinth]

If you're still doing prompts: Nie MingJue has a kid. IDK how this affects anything else, but the kid loves A-Yuan whenever they meet while Xichen and HuiSang spoil them relentlessly.

Lan Xichen admired the world for its diversity: how different lands had different accents, different foods, different melodies, different customs, different superstitions – the differences added color to the world and made it more interesting. After all, without differences, how would anyone ever know that the sweet smoothness of Gusu’s Emperor’s Smile paired beautifully with the spicy food prepared in Yunmeng, or that the nasal intonations of Lanling were pleasantly charming when put against his favorite childhood songs?

Still, there were some cultural idiosyncrasies that, admittedly, he thought had less merit than others.

Qinghe’s notorious reluctance to share personal information, for instance.

It was one thing when it was not knowing exactly how old a person was, or what their given name was, or things like that – it was another thing to find out, well…

“Did you know about this?” Lan Xichen asked Jin Guangyao in an undertone, even though the dumbstruck expression didn’t give him much hope. “You were his deputy, once…”

“You’re his childhood friend,” Jin Guangyao pointed out. “And you didn’t know.”

“Well, yes, but that’s outside the sect, whereas you were a guest disciple…never mind. It’s not important.”

“Not important?”

“It isn’t.” Lan Xichen straightened and moved forward, waving to get Nie Mingjue’s attention from where he was yelling at Nie Huaisang, much to the evidence pleasure of the baby in his arms. “Da-ge, your child is beautiful.”

“Is she?” Nie Mingjue asked, glancing down at the infant with a frown. “How can you tell, under all those layers? All babies look the same to me.”

Lan Xichen found himself smiling in amusement. It was good to know that Nie Mingjue hadn’t changed in personality, even if – even if –

“I must admit I hadn’t known that you were expecting a child,” he blurted out. “Or that you, uh…”

“Were capable of carrying one?” Nie Huaisang asked innocently – a bit too innocently, the brat; he’d obviously known that his elder brother was, physiologically speaking, an elder sister. 

It wasn’t as if Lan Xichen wasn’t aware that Qinghe had a tradition of recognizing what they called ‘misaligned reincarnations’, a male soul accidentally reincarnating in a woman’s body or a woman in a man’s or even something else altogether; it was only that he’d thought he would have noticed it.

Apparently not, given the casual way his sworn brother had been feeding the child earlier.

“Er-ge is right: she really is quite beautiful,” Jin Guangyao said, coming close with a smile. His fingers reached for her, then paused. “Take it from one that knows, da-ge; I’ve seen plenty of babies before – she has very auspicious features.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “I’d rather she had auspicious meridians, but it’s too early to tell…why do you keep twitching like that? Do you want to hold her or something? Just take her already.”

Jin Guangyao found himself with a baby in his arms and a surprised expression, albeit one that quickly faded into a smile that seemed a bit more sincere than the previous one. Lan Xichen wished his sworn brother wouldn’t feel the need to put up a façade with everyone. “Oh! She’s very light…how old is she?”

“Old enough,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug, and there was that Qinghe reticence again. ‘Old enough’ probably meant she’d had her first month birthday. “We’re just calling her Baobei until we think of a name.”

Of course they hadn’t thought of a name. The Nie were hopeless. Nie Mingjue in specific; Nie Huaisang probably had lists of names.

“Does she…” Jin Guangyao started to ask, then stopped. At Nie Mingjue’s irritated expression he coughed. “You’ll have to forgive my unfamiliarity with how it works under the circumstances – is she surnamed Nie? Or do you use her father’s…?”

Nie Huaisang’s face spasmed in something that vaguely resembled rage for the half-second it took for him to hide it behind a fan, which Lan Xichen didn’t understand and which made Jin Guangyao frown.

“No father,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s surnamed Nie, nothing else.”

“Not as if we’ve left much of the other side alive,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, and – oh. That’s why he was angry.

That was a very good reason to be angry.

Jin Guangyao abruptly turned as white as a sheet, which made Nie Mingjue reach over and catch him by the shoulders with a frown, saying, “Meng Yao, if you drop my infant child, I will drop you off the walls. Do you know how much effort it takes to get one of these? Quite literally a pain in the ass.”

Lan Xichen had been about to say something – he didn’t know what, but something necessary to vent the emotions in his heart – and it was all abruptly cut off by the sudden swell of amusement; Nie Mingjue’s sense of humor had always been like that, a perfect deadpan that you only belatedly realized was deliberately making fun.

“Let me hold her,” he said instead, and accepted the small child into his arms. She mostly looked annoyed with all the jostling, the tiny little scowl already demonstrating her Nie heritage. He hoped for her sake that all her features were the same. “Da-ge, you really don’t leave any room for the rest of us to compete with you, do you? You took first place in Phoenix Mountain even though you must have already had this little one in tow.”

“Don’t think too highly of me,” Nie Mingjue said. “I hadn’t even noticed at that point, though it was late enough that I probably should have...anyway, I didn’t take first. They only said that because they didn’t want to give it to the Jiang sect.”

“You were about equal with a third each,” Jin Guangyao said. He was still too pale, still upset; Lan Xichen didn’t blame him. Especially since it had been his plan that had…still, it was evident Nie Mingjue had no interest in discussing it, and it was better to follow his lead.

“About equal is still second place. There weren’t any rules against using demonic cultivation.”

“There will be now,” Jin Guangyao said. “Although I suppose it’s unnecessary, with Wei Wuxian now holed up in Yiling.”

Nie Huaisang hummed from behind his fan. “Didn’t Lan-er-gongzi go to Yiling recently?” he asked, almost purposefully casual. “What did he think of it?”

Lan Xichen blinked. Nie Huaisang was getting at something, but he didn’t know what – the Nie sect hadn’t made any statements about what had happened with Wei Wuxian in the immediate aftermath, something rather uncharacteristic of them. He supposed, looking down at the babe in his arms and calculating time since Nie Mingjue’s capture at Yangquan, he now knew why: they had been preoccupied.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He didn’t say much, though I think he was pleased to see that Wei-gongzi was doing well.”

“He didn’t encounter any issues?”

“Issues? No. What sort of issues?”

“Oh, I don’t know. We all know how righteous Hanguang-jun is. If there was something fishy going on, he would have felt the need to act, wouldn’t he?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, clearly understanding better than they did what Nie Huaisang was getting at. “You just want to get more baby presents.”

“Baobei deserves all the presents,” Nie Huaisang agreed peaceably. “But she also deserves peace of mind, don’t you think?”

“It’s never too early to think about the future, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao agreed. “If you leave relatives outside, you never know when they might come to make trouble.”

Lan Xichen’s heart gave a pang: Jin Guangyao had been one of those relatives from the outside once, and he knew it still pained him even though he was now safely recognized as his father’s son.

“We can go with you, assuming you want her to meet them,” he offered. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao were suggesting meeting the remaining Wen sect members or implying that Nie Mingjue should simply put the remaining Wens to death to avoid having to deal with any problems, but he figured it was better to simply pretend they meant the nicer option. “It’s bad luck not to honor relatives, if there are ones that you can tolerate. Anyway, I don’t believe even the Yiling Patriarch could stand up against all of us – or that Wei-gongzi would, if we came with a child to meet her relatives.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nie Mingjue allowed. “If they really are all old people and children, non-participants, it wouldn’t be a problem to recognize them to some extent. It’s better to have more cousins rather than less, after all.”

Lan Xichen recalled a brief reference his brother had made to a child he’d encountered at Yiling – how close it had been with Wei Wuxian, who was infamously rabid in the defense of those he considered family no matter what official pretense had to be put about between him and the Jiang sect.

“I think,” he said, “that that’s an excellent idea.”

[xnchxntmxnt]

𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑎, 𝑓𝑖𝑥𝑒𝑑

𝐵𝑜𝑘𝑢𝐴𝑘𝑎 𝑋 𝐺𝑁!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑎 : 𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡

a, can you tell I'm bad at naming things? This took me an hour b, I make this sound so much cooler than it really is lol it's just bokuto and akaashi being cuties

this is another req from tumblr that I'm excited about--also thank you to @sugasfanfics (on ao3, instagram & tumblr) for helping me with some ideas with this! Love you bro!/p Go check out her stuff! It's really good!

Anyway, enjoy!

TW//CW: minor cursing

Reader info: GN!Reader, third year student at Fukurodani, Bokuto Kotaro’s childhood best friend

Word Count:

Ao3 Link

“Akaashi! Did you see that spike! Did ya see it? Did ya?”

“Yes, I did, Bokuto.”

“Wasn’t it killer?!”

“Yes, Bokuto.”

“My shoulder hurts a little from that!”

Now that you thought about it, your shoulder hurt a little just watching him. You grew up with Fukurodani’s team captain, Bokuto Kotaro, and you welcomed Akaashi Keiji into your friendship the year prior. Now it was the beginning of your third year and Bo invited you to stay and watch practice so he could walk you home. What a gentleman.

Most of why you immediately let him join the two of you is because he and Bokuto figured out early on they were soulmates. It was great to meet them so young, but you had to admit, you were a little jealous. Especially because Bokuto had it pinned in his mind that there was someone else. All he had was a few scraped knees and/or elbows that he nor Akaashi remembered getting to go off of. Typical Kotaro making a mountain out of a molehill. You’d been dealing with his dramatic streak for a long time, though, and found it endearing.

He was endearing. You’d had a crush on the captain for a while, now, but since he and Akaashi found each other...well, it was better not to spoil their fun.

You hadn't wanted to admit it for a while, but you had a bit of a crush on Akaashi too. There was something about both the boys—very different things, of course—that drew you to them. Bokuto was loud, emotional, and so caring where Akaashi’s intelligence and natural charm were fascinating.

You didn’t have the guts to confess to either of them nor did you want to ruin what they had. They already found each other, so what was the point? It’s not like having two soulmates was unheard of but it was on the rarer side and you doubted you’d be so lucky.

“Nice one, Bo!” you yelled over to him. Today was Friday so you were planning on walking home with Bokuto from his practice. The two of you had spent Friday evenings together for as long as you could remember, rarely ever missing them. You helped him with homework when he needed it, you two played video games or watched movies. Most of the time you ended up staying overnight because neither of you wanted to move from the comfortable couch.

He turned and waved to you, a smile plastered on his face. “(Y/N), wasn't that awesome?”

“Yes, it was,” you laugh, turning back to your homework you decided to work on while at practice (that way Bokuto could have your full attention when you got home—he needed it in school sometimes). “You got this, dude!”

You heard him cheer—he was so energetic today. Someone so positive (unless he was in one of his moods) was hard to come by. Especially someone who felt all of his emotions so strongly like he did.

The end of practice came sooner than you thought it would and you offered to help the boys clean up. They graciously accepted, per usual, so you followed Akaashi around, helping him find all the volleyballs that had rolled around the gym floor.

“Any fun plans for the weekend?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation with him. Usually, he wasn’t the type to start talking to anyone, so you wanted to break the silence.

He shrugged. “Bokuto offered to go to the movies with me tomorrow night, so there’s that. You?”

“Just the usual.”

He mumbled something, but before you could ask what it was, Bokuto came skipping over. He swung around behind Akaashi, wrapping his arms around his waist. “What’re you two talking about?” he asked energetically, a smile plastered on his face.

“Just this weekend,” you reply, trying to match his energy. It was a little tough when Bo was (unintentionally) making you a third wheel.

“Awesome, awesome, awesome! Hey, I gotta steal Akaashi real quick, But I’ll be ready to leave in a sec, yeah?”

“Sounds good.” You turned to walk back to your bag, going to put away the book you had out. However, the boys’ conversation had you intrigued, so you walked slower and listened in.

“One time, Akaashi! Last time, I promise! I just wanna see-”

“Or you can just wait and find out.”

“Ugh, but thats boring! Please, please, please?”

“Fine, fine--you want me there?”

“Yes please!”

“Alright…”

You sighed, wondering what Bokuto was up to this time. Whatever it was, at least it was legal and safe enough that Akaashi agreed to it.

***

“(Y/N), hey, (Y/N)!” Bokuto yelled for you, running out of the club room with Akaashi in tow. You laughed as he glared at him, being dragged along by the wrist. “I have something I wanna try on you. Works on akaashi, I wanna see if you fall for it.”

“What is it?”

“You gotta trust me on this.”

You laugh. “I’m scared, is this safe?”

“Just humor him, you won’t die or anything.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine! Hold your arm out.”

You follow his directions and you do, rolling up your sleeve. He does the same.

Before you know it, there’s a painful stinging sensation on your forearm, but you realize you weren’t hit. Bokuto slapped his own arm, which was now slightly red where he hit.

“Did you have to hit so hard?” Akaashi complained with a sigh. “That hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry--(Y/N)?”

“What the hell?” you asked, eyes wide in shock. “Did you just--”

“It worked! Oh--Akaashi it worked! I was right! Yes! Aren’t you glad you said yes!”

“We could have just asked them to the movies Saturday…”

You listened to the two of them go back and forth for a moment, staring at your arm. It didn’t hurt anymore, but a moment ago it had. But you weren’t hit. Bokuto was. How did you--

“Is this how you broke your arm when you were seven and somehow I managed to at the same time??” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “When did you figure this out? How did you know? What?”

“Well, I kinda had an idea a little while ago, but I wanted to try it out…” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “But isn’t this awesome? You--wait, you like us, right?”

You roll your eyes, putting up your best deadpan face. “No, Bokuto Kotaro, I despise you and Akaashi with every fiber of my being.”

“Really?”

“No, stupid, I’ve liked you for months I just didn’t say anything!”

“Why not??”

“Cause I didn’t wanna ruin what you guys had!”

“If it helps, (Y/N), we both did the same thing,” Akaashi added. “So, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, do you wanna come to the movies with us?”

You not, still unbelieving that this was an actual reality. Bokuto grinned and hugged you, spinning you around in his excitement. “Bo, put me down!” you squeal, hanging onto him tightly.

He set you down and kissed your forehead. “Sorry, sorry, I got excited. But you’ll come, right??”

“Yes, I’ll come to the movies with you guys.”

“Awesome!”

“I’m glad.”

You took one of Bokuto’s hands and offered your other one to Akaashi, which he also took. So your first ‘date’ tomorrow would be interesting, but you couldn’t have been happier about it.

Hope you guys enjoyed! I love these guys so much, specifically Bokuto (but I tried to write them both aaaa I'm no good at Akaashi but I tried). If you have any reqs for me, let me know either here or my inbox on tumblr!

Drink some water and stay healthy! Sending love! <3

-𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟

[tiredassmage]

3, 11, 19

I love you and you drive me insane every time you don't yell at someone specific because I have to spin the wheel and hope they don't all tackle me at once or, possibly worse, that none of them answer me and they all just kind of look at each other like an Alliance raid where none of the tanks want to be The One so nobody stances and a dps pulls and it all goes to shit, anyway -

I know how much you love Shay, so we'll bother him.

3. What does their voice sound like, in a couple of words? (ie soft, scratchy, seductive, high-pitched, etc)

This is literally the single question in this list that I've put this off for because I'm terrible at this. All of my idiots have very distinct vibes in my head, but ask me to pick their favorite food or describe how they talk and I'm... I don't know, I just don't akdfnlasdfnlsakdf.

But Shay is really a man of few words. And now I'm thinking about him having all the conversation charm of Geralt and I cannot say I'm unpleased with this audio idea.

11. What kind of person are they most compatible with? (platonic or romantic)

Someone really needs to have some patience and either perseverance or thick skin from the start to deal with him as a friend, let alone as a partner because of his dry, deadpan, and... definitely sometimes barbed humor. Shay doesn't sugarcoat things very often, if ever. While you do get someone fiercely, fiercely loyal out of it in the end, he will not stop insulting you. It just changes from annoyance to a show of affection, and the distinction isn't exactly the clearest unless you know him.

But also, I do remember mentioning once that Shay, despite being a pessimist, at worst, and maybe just pragmatic or realist, at best, does admire an idealist and... yeah, someone a bit more idealistic and soft-hearted tends to balance well with him.

19. If they had a theme song, what would it be?

Mmmm... it's hard to pick one because he actually has a really good playlist and it's so rare that I make a decent playlist for a character. I think, out of what I have on there now, probably the best for theme, lyrics, and sound overall is Even If It Hurts by Sam Tinnesz. It'd also make a great opening cinematic for him, so that's definitely why that one takes the cake over some of the others on his list that are good on theme and whatnot.

[nuatthebeach]

New Ginny

Link to AO3 for comments/reviews

"You know this was not what we had in mind for a low budget vacation, Winston!"

"You said you wanted to go somewhere you couldn't find at home."

"So, why would you take us to the beach all the way across the country, man?!" Sand shot in the air as an angry kick on the shore was executed effortlessly by the man Schmidt himself. "We live in freakin' LA! There's beaches crawling out of everywhere! And you wonder why no one lets you choose any of our vacation spots anymore, ya freak."

Cece threw up a hand in exasperation, diamond ring winking in the sun. "Yeah, why didn't you just tell us we were going to the beach, Winston? We could have saved a lot by just taking a car nearby instead of you surprising us with these 'low cost' plane tickets."

"See, you guys don't get it. I told y'all we were going on a cheap trip we ain't never done before, right?" Winston's smile brightened, the look of misguided, twisted comedy overtaking his expression with alarming speed. "And then, boom, I took y'all to the beach. On the East Coast. Ha! You just got Bishoped!"

Nick shook his head, right hand rubbing wearily against his face, looking just as tired as the rest of them. "You've gotta stop with your pranks, man."

"Y'all should've seen the look on my face - "

"Y- Seen the look on your face?"

The only word to describe the look on Schmidt's face was 'flabbergasted.'

" - When I swiped y'all's credit credit cards last month as you were all arguing with Nick over that Flat Earth theory video on YouTube - "

"When they asked the guy about his qualifications, he answered 'critical thinker'! Does that sound like someone who would just lie to you?!"

" - And for your only holiday weekends too! And, man, Nick is so broke right now! I was trying so hard to hold it in!" Winston was absolutely beaming with mirth at this point, reducing his friends' sense of camaraderie towards him to a terrifying low. "You know, you guys should really be checking your billing history more often, for real, someone could really be stealing from you, and you'd have no idea."

Before Winston could register Schmidt's increasingly tomato red face, something else in his periphery caught his attention. "Damn it, Ferguson, don't go near that water! It is not your friend, baby!"

"What type of idiot lets a cat roam free on the beach!"

While Cece attempted to alleviate the pressure between Schmidt's tightly clenched teeth, an irritated look overpowering her own, a low voice spoke from behind. "Are your friends always like this?"

Ginny, who had been laughing at her loftmates' antics and was surprisingly not feeling as bothered by Winston's tendencies as the rest of them (this vacation is, after all, well-deserved after the shitty week I've had, and every second counts, even if they are each spent planning Winston's upcoming ultimate demise), turned around to see an incredibly fit man her age speaking to her directly.

Sweeping her eyes over his form once, she leaned closer. "I'm afraid they are, yes, but I've got to warn you I'm not much better."

He seemed equally as amused as her. "How so?"

"Well, as you can tell from my completely American accent," she deadpanned in her British accent, amused when the stranger rolled his eyes in response, "my sense of humor is a bit dry. Superior, of course, but I'm told some people can't handle it."

"Natural selection will handle that, I hope," he chuckled.

"If we're lucky," she smiled. Feeling particularly introductory that late afternoon, she gestured halfheartedly to the obnoxious chatter several meters ahead of her. "My loftmates here, on the other hand, each have an equally questionable sense of humor themselves."

"Who, those few?"

She rolled her eyes, failing to prevent the corner of her lips from quirking upwards. Pointing to the man who was now dragging an increasingly wet and agitated cat from the Atlantic ocean, his jeans completely soaked from the knees down, Ginny drawled, "That idiot over there who cost us a proper, well-earned vacation is Winston. The only thing this man loves more than crazy pranks is his even crazier cat, who I'm pretty sure doesn't even know he exists. Needless to say, I've really never been more envious of a cat's attention span myself."

Moving on to Schmidt and Cece who were lying on the shore as far away from Winston as much as possible as a form of spite, Ginny explained matter-of-factly, "Schmidt and Cece don't have a cat, but that won't stop them from also making ear infection-inducing noises at six in the morning through our paper thin walls."

Pointing to the last couple on the beach, she continued, "Not like Nick and Jess are any better, though. They like to make weird noises too, but it's not always during sex, and that scares me more than it should anyone, really."

She gestured to herself. "And last but not least, you have me, whose most normal experience of today is having a fit guy at the beach wonder out loud about how five idiots managed to drag their even more fit loftmate out of her comfortable bed and into an expensive five hour flight. Just to do the same things that I easily could have done if I just took a simple albeit very long stroll outside. And I would have had a much better view, too, no offense to your rather peculiar looking ocean over here. What shade of contaminated gray would you call that hue, by the way?"

"No, that's a pretty accurate way of describing it, actually. I'd like to think there is some green in there, though. Just to give it the illusion of appearing to be clean." Reluctantly, Ginny had to agree.

The stranger's lips pressed firmly in amusement the entire time she was talking - ranting, more like - clearly trying to not give her the satisfaction of knowing how funny and charming he thought she was.

She found that endearing. They all try at first.

Eventually, he settled with: "So you and, uh, Winston, are the only two people in the loft who are not coupled up?"

She raised an eyebrow, impressed by his nerve. "Pretending to ignore your intentions for asking such a tactfully worded question, no, actually, when Winston's not too busy canoodling with his cat, he's canoodling his girlfriend - Aly - back at home, but she couldn't make it here today, lucky girl. So it's just me."

Finally smiling now, the stranger ignored her challenging look ('why are you so curious about my relationship status, you hot, inquisitive, none-of-your-business stranger?') and asked her teasingly, "Aren't there a lot of people to fit in just one loft?"

"I mean, we're from LA. Rent there is mad, so we need all the help we can get," she shrugged. "But, yeah, most definitely breaking some housing rules here or there. Is that something that bothers you?"

He smiled, something akin to arrogance taking over his face. She found that look more stirring than she'd like to admit out loud. "You'll find I'm not really the rule caring type."

"Oh? When would you imagine I'd be finding that out?"

She was beyond the point of caring how brazen she must have sounded to a complete and utter stranger. And if she was being honest with herself, she never did care, really. Besides, if she was going to fit a hot summer romance in the span of a whole day, she thought she might as well get on with it.

He cleared his throat, his gaze silently indicating how much he'd like to agree with her on that one, too. "Okay, Miss Dry Humor. I guess I know everything there is to know about your loftmates without risk of my mind being fully blown apart, now. What's your story?"

"What's yours?"

He chuckled at her retort though immediately furrowed his eyebrows afterward, as if he was confused by this question himself.

Ginny did not know what to think of that, though she found a strange fog overtaking her when she tried to ponder on her own personal history too.

Strange.

Instead, she prompted, trying to clear her mind, "You're a lifeguard here, right?"

He looked down at his form, a lanyard draped across his increasingly interesting collarbone and a whistle resting just above his bare chest.

"I can't swim."

She blinked.

"What?" she laughed. "Isn't that, like, a hazard for what you do?"

"Probably," he said sheepishly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "I don't mean to, like, put anyone in danger or anything. It's a long story, but basically, I'm covering for my friend while he's, um...making noises with his girlfriend, as you said. Hence, the whistle right here. So I'm not really a lifeguard. But if anything happens, my other friend - an actual reliable lifeguard - can help you out. He's right over there nearby."

He pointed to another dark-haired, attractive man standing farther away from them along the shore. At first, Ginny thought he was winking at her, but when she saw the tension building along the shoulders of the stranger next to her, she knew who that teasing look was meant for.

"Sorry about him. He thinks I'm trying to make a move on you."

"Oh? Is that not what's happening right now?"

His cheeks flushed slightly. Ginny found it amusing how this man could be so confident but also so shit at flirting too. It strangely caused warmth to expand, but this time it was not through her lower belly.

"I don't want him to think that, though. I'd never hear the end of it."

It was not a direct answer to her question, but his eyes were so soft and mischievous that she had no doubt as to what he really meant.

She rolled her eyes anyway. "I thought you Americans were supposed to be more direct than that."

He scoffed, eyes lighting up at her jibe. "Oh, I see. You're one of those. Dry humor doesn't have to equate to being mean, you know."

Ginny laughed. "Well, that's why my loft arrangement works out so well with this lot over here," she jabbed her thumb to her friends, watching as Ferguson was attempting once more to drown himself in the ocean to escape his owner's clingy attentiveness. "My sense of humor is mean and dry, and their sense of humor compensates by being mean and wet."

He coughed. "Wet?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, pretending like she hadn't made any suggestive comment whatsoever. "Well, occasionally we do like to alternate, though."

"Of course."

"If I was always dry, and they were always wet, we'd have a different problem altogether."

He barked out a laugh, his cheeks flushing again. "How are you even real?"

"Well, anything's possible if you've got enough perv."

The man's breath hitched, his green eyes staring at her intensely. Despite her earlier insult, Ginny thought the color reminded her exactly of the ocean they were at now, something much stormier than the one back in California.

She found herself growing fond of this beach in a way she was not before.

"Do I know you? I swear I feel like I met you before."

She leaned closer to him, fighting feeling flustered herself. "I've probably got one of those memorable faces or something."

"Something like that." His eyebrows furrowed, but his lips were still upturned. "I'll certainly remember it much later today anyways."

His ears promptly reddened.

She gasped playfully, smiling as she hit him lightly on his very fit arm. "You are much smoother than you look. And randier."

He laughed. After a short while of them standing in a silence filled with smirks and silky sheet-like possibilities, he finally asked, "Okay, Miss Dry Occasionally Wet Humor - "

"Nice."

He bit back another chuckle. "What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

He rolled his eyes ("stubborn too"), he relented, "I'm Harry."

She chuckled, shaking his hand that was offered to her mockingly. She tried to ignore how well it fit in her own small one.

"Ginny."

He watched her nose crinkle, a deep smile spreading across both of their lips contentedly.

It was something tangible, she thought, as her insides fired up, not out of lustful heat - though certainly that too - but something warm, like receiving hugs after being shoved outside in a freezing tent in the woods for months and months, with nothing but a piece of marked parchment to keep one sane.

Parchment?

Something within her squirmed, and she thought that if she listened closely enough, the sounds of seagulls cawing in the distance could easily be replaced by something akin to an audience crooning in sympathy.

As if watching a pair of hopeless lovers on a silver screen.

Suddenly, Nick's comically high pitched scream filled the air, allowing Ginny to shake her head at her crazy thoughts.

"It's just a ghost crab, Nick!" Jess yelled from far away, annoyed as her boyfriend jumped on her back in fright, almost causing her to topple over herself.

"Why are there crabs and ghosts, Jess! You can't have both! You know I always told you that crustaceans are the cockroaches of the sea! It's a crazy world out here!"

At Jess's blank stare, Nick chuckled incredulously, his last brain cell firing meekly. "Wait. I get it. You're teasing me, Jess. Ghosts aren't real. Psh. Nice try."

Nick's neck cricked as he glanced around in paranoia.

Jess rolled her eyes, attempting to drop him down from her back but failing badly, his legs wrapped around her like a vice. "Ghost. Crabs. Nick. I don't know why you're even scared of them - they even walk sideways like you do!"

"They should not be blending in with the sand like that! They're all spooky ghosts! It's not right!"

"You. Are. So. Infuriating, Miller!"

As Nick hopped off of Jess to moonwalk away from the ghost crabs, a thought came to Ginny.

"They kind of remind me of..." Both Harry and Ginny said at the exact same time, causing them to stare at each other hastily.

When neither of them finished their sentences (what even was I going to say anyways?), Ginny huffed. "Right," she said, "Well, I've got to head back now before Nick finds out that it's getting late, which can only mean that more ghost crabs are bound to be crawling all over the place soon."

He laughed but quickly became alarmed when she made to leave. "Wait."

She turned around, hand cupping her forehead to squint at him through the waning sun. Harry swallowed, eyes drifting to her red hair in a daze.

Before he could say anything, however, Schmidt and Winston's obnoxiously loud voices were shrill above the sounds of the waves crashing ahead of them.

"Of all places for a prank!" Clearly, Schmidt's ability to let things go was about as weak as Ginny's right hook. "Why did you decide to take us here in the end?"

"As in, why the East Coast and not a beach in a whole other expensive ass country? Damn, now that would have been a better prank."

Four legs reached out to kick sand in Winston's face, Ferguson following with a screech.

"But to be honest, I couldn't wait to see what the sunset looks like on the other side of the country."

Pause.

"Winston! We are on the East Coast! The sun falls west at night time! Look at where the sun is now," Schmidt gestured aggressively behind him, where towering beach homes covered the view. "You can't see the freakin' sunset on this beach, man!"

"Aw, damn, my bad."

"How are you actually one of the more intelligent people I know in my life?!"

If there was one thing she and Schmidt shared, Ginny concluded, it was their inability to handle rage.

Her eyes flitted to Jess, who was trying to catch her attention.

Ginny chuckled, holding up a hand to let her loftmate know to wait there when she saw her smiling knowingly towards her and Harry. She watched as Jess's eyebrows waggled dramatically, stuffing her index finger through a hole she made with her other hand in repetition as she chomped down on her lip.

Completely unfazed by her loftmate's quirks at that point, Ginny turned to Harry again.

"If we can't do that sunset, I suppose I'll have to make plans for a sunrise tomorrow before we head back to LA, then. Join me?"

His answering smile could make a grain of sand feel alive.

She had the strangest feeling that the sound she could have sworn she heard a while ago was ringing faintly in her ear once more.

This time, she thought she heard boisterous whoops instead, clapping cheerfully as Ginny smiled one last time to Harry before finally walking toward her friends.

…

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[kiwikipedia]

Hello again! Glad to see someone remember Cin Drallig exists! The poor Battlemaster could use some more content in the fandom :D Anyway what made you interesting in using him for your incorrect quotes and stuff and do you have any headcanons for him? Also will his Padawan Serra Keto from the old Revenge of the Sith video game be making any appearances in your work with Cin?

I LOVE CIN? HE’S JUST??? A CHARM??? ONE GRUFF, ANGY BOY FOR ME?? Cin easily makes my top 10 list of Jedi. Serra actually has shown up briefly in my Wolffepack Against Child Abuse Modern Star Wars AU in the second installment alongside Bene! 

ANYWAYS YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE HEADCANONS:

• Cin never got along with Qui-Gon Jinn, despite having an OK relationship with Dooku. The two of them clashed over a lot of things, and Cin specifically warned Yoda about Qui-Gon when he was pushing for Obi-wan to be his padawan. The two’s fights escalated to blows during and after Melida/Daan.

• Cin practically raised Kit, and as such, Kit looks up to him like an older brother-slash-father. Kit often comes to him still if he needs advice. Cin called him a clown when he came searching for courting advice.

• He also helped out with Bant and Nahdar when he could, and was the one who finished up Nahdar’s padawanship when Kit was called to the front lines.

• Despite the stories the Padawans tell the Initiates , though, Cin’s only strict and gruff when the kids have sabers in hand. Afterwards, he’s always willing to listen to their problems. Though he’s a bit shit at giving them good advice. It’s the thought that counts.

• Cin isn’t a master at all Saber Forms  in the same sense as those who master one form— such as Mace with Vaapad or Kit with Shii-Cho— but he is insanely dangerous since he can easily slip in and out of saber forms mid combat. Repeatedly.

• Not to say that he’s not a master in every form, because he is. but those who specialize in one form only take it a step up.

• Kit Fisto, Plo Koon, Agen Kolar, and Shaak Ti are his usual duel-mates, the five of them absolutely going feral when they’re out of sight of younglings and padawans because it gets dangerous. Cin throws lightsabers. It always freaks Kit out, though he should be used to it.

• Speaking of which, Cin’s a fantastic marksman and has a crazy throwing arm. Someone once asked him what kind of Saber Style it was and he just flatly responded “the Keeping Master Fisto Out Of Trouble” style.

• But yeah, the duels between Cin and any of those four get intense. Most duels between him and any of the masters get intense, though. It’s a good way to test one’s skills.

• He’s literally so indifferent to the nickname “the Troll” that the Order has given him, it’s hilarious. Some Initiate tried to use it as an insult to him and he basically just went “Okay, and?”

• Cin always carries more than one lightsaber on his body at one time. His usual, green one, two yellow shoto, and a blue saber-staff.

• He’s one of the best to go to if you have questions about lightsabers, since he works with them so much. He’s the one who builds all of the training ones, after all.

• He casually refers to the Temple Guards as his “kids”, which is why he’s friends with Plo. 

• During the Clone Wars the two would just go “how are your kids” “doing fine, and yours?” “Also well” 

• He also loves Bene and Serra as his own daughters , along with Whie as a son, as well, despite the boy not being his Padawan

• very much the type of dry-wit humor person. Deadpan snarker. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking if you don’t know him.

• He states that he’ll never get used to the strength of non-humans, as he’s been quite literally thrown by Shaak Ti, Eeth Koth, and Agen Kolar both in duels and on the few missions outside the Temple he’s done.

• Cin suggested that the clones should be trained in saber-work and offered to do it himself. It was put on the back burner, though the few times he’s not in the Temple and down in the Barracks, he’s offered to train the troopers there. Some, like the Commanders and a few ARCs took him up on the offer. And then realized the reason why some Jedi grimaced when his name was mentioned.

• Fives will forever say that ARC training was easier than Saber training with Cin. Battlemaster was a name well earned. Cin then told them the reason he was so hard on them was because he was cut for time, the Clones didn’t have years between leave to learn Saber Forms, so tuck your damn elbows in and adjust your feet, Hardcase.

• Surprising no one, the 104th and 91th troops picked it up faster than the others. Because of course the two would teach their men saberskills on the field. So Cin stepped up the difficulty level. It was fun— for him at least. 

• On that note, Cin suggests that maybe Wolffe should learn Vaapad from Mace and Shii-Cho from Kit when the war’s over. No risk of falling to the dark but he’d have all the unpredictability and speed from both forms.

• He considers the Coruscant Guard to be like his “nephews” in arms, since their job is similar to that of the Temple Guard— and he knows that when both groups can, the two Guard groups get to gether down at 79s for drinks and fun.

• Debated giving Fox and the CG shotos for protection, but eventually decided against it. (Which is a shame.)

• He’s very easy to fluster under that hard exerior and when he’s not teaching or fighting, something that— and here’s where my own personal ships come in and I apologize if this isn’t your cup of tea— Shaak Ti and Saesee Tiin take full advantage of. Shaak teases him relentlessly when she can. Calls him cute and just? He’s CG paint red. “I’m what” “You hard me” “hhhhhhhhh” 

• Saesee just. Picks him up from time to time? Easiest way to fluster him, just pick him up and he shuts up. Cin.exe has stopped working.

• A personal headcanon of mine that disregards canon, from what I know, is that the reason Cin couldn’t beat Vader was because he could quite literally feel the deaths of everyone in the Temple, and outside of it. With so many of his students, friends, and family dying, he was off kilter and easier to kill.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/5/2020

a list of firsts

listening house of the rising sun, the animals: no particular reason this was my first song of the year, i am simply fond of it. do you want to watch a man go ham on a travel-size electronic organ? of course you do.

@dying-suffering-french-stalkers​ has a killer playlist tracing the evolution of the Spanish Rakes folk song family. were i musical-history inclined, house of the rising sun is the song i would be most likely to do that for i think

watching it happened one night, (1934, dir. Capra). so every year, at around 11:20ish new year’s eve, i start a black-and-white “classic” movie i’ve never seen before. fuck i love a pre-code movie. it is easier for me to set aside my modern feminist sensibilities when i’m watching a screwball, because they’re supposed to be satire! i am allowed to watch and laugh without getting my hackles up as much!

[REDACTED TOO-PERSONAL ANGRY FEMINIST SCREED BC THOSE EIGHT HUNDRED WORDS ARE BETTER SUITED TO A THERAPY SESSION]

i sort-of haphazardly liveblogged my new year’s viewing here, the main point is that this early autogyro worsened my anxiety. modern helicopters are death traps!!! they just casually land this thing on a lawn in the middle of a crowd of people!!! PLEASE DO NOT

reading the trouble with doing these weekly roundup things is that i try to go beyond “did i like the thing” and go into “was this successful at what it’s trying to do? how did it go about what it’s trying to do and were these techniques that fit?” while trying to keep this within a reasonable wordcount bc i am not being paid to put out thousands of words of media critique a week. but sometimes i just straight up don’t like a piece of media for no particular reason. and that’s fine too, it just doesn’t make for very interesting reading.

anyway i read Cursed Pirate Girl (2009) and Cursed Pirate Girl Annual (2015). this is peak- i’m not sure how to succinctly describe this- late-aughts whimsical but sort of dark Alice-in-Wonderland? like steampunk that allows itself to use cool colors? published and re-published in a collection just as steampunk was starting to fall off the mainstream but the tim burton movies were still sort of on a high and weird little non-superhero comics and graphic novels were starting to make it into respected book reviews and bestseller lists?

the draftsmanship in these is beautiful, and they do look like “what if early 1800s comics were held to a modern standard of design”. but i simply do not vibe with the aforementioned trend bc i had a miserable time in high school at the peak of the steampunk/edgy British Empire trend and thinking about high school me makes my soul wither a little bit. anyway this cover slaps

playing the haunted island: a frog detective game, and frog detective 2: the case of the invisible wizard. this is really the epitome of “i want short games made with worse graphics made by people who are paid more” i would like one of these little bonbons a year please.

i am startled to find that my opinions on video game length jive with my opinions on tv show and movie length. i don’t want a “forever game” with infinite proc-gen quests (no man’s sky, for example, is not a game for me) and i think tv shows should be like three seasons max. no one iteration of a show should be on the air for a decade plus. this is partly bc i very rarely have the brainspace to get into tv shows, and i certainly do not have time to get into whole new longrunning tv shows at this braintime. i have the time for short self-contained media experiences like movies or video games under six hours.

these two games are really simple and really short- i blew through them both in less two hours- but i was charmed and delighted at almost every moment. it has the kind of straightfaced deadpan humor that some children’s shows have- i’m drawing a blank on specific examples other than vintage sesame street (pre-elmo) perhaps? (”kay why do you have an extensive knowledge of children’s entertainment and animation? you’re 26, sus” well you see i have two siblings that are significantly younger than me, which means sesame street was on constantly in our house well into my teens, and i’ve had at least one babysitting client at any given time since i was eleven)

i wouldn’t say they’re trying to make a particular point about cops/copaganda, esp since they’re from 2018 & 2019 by an australian team, but you could probably get an interesting paper about the portrayal of “crime” and “solving crime” in these games.    

making cinnamon raisin bread with sourdough discard, it’s on the last rise before it goes in the oven and should be photogenic enough for tumblr by like noon thirty

[lovelyirony]

Through flames and oceans (for the fic title)

u know. this was supposed to not go the direction it did. but it did. 

People say they will do a lot for love. They will walk through flames, cross an entire ocean for love.

Bruce tells himself that that’s the stupidest fucking thing people say. He, for one, will not do that. There is also the unspoken reason of that love really isn’t in the cards for him.

Currently, he’s running away from his ex-girlfriend’s dad, General Ross, because he may or may not have done some experimentation and turned into a rage monster, but also revealed some state secrets.

Come on, can you blame him? Cosmo said twenty-year-olds need to accomplish something before they hit thirty. And he’s quite sure he just made the list.

But as for love, he is thinking about it right now because his ex-girlfriend found a very nice girl named Valkyrie, and they’re kind of set to have an engagement party, and “would you please come to the United States to help us celebrate?”

Betty is a wonderful woman, really and truly. And Bruce is okay with how their relationship ended, because it’s not like Bruce could come to family dinner and expect anything besides murder or maybe cold potatoes. And Betty deserved someone far better than him, and from the picture that was sent, it looks like Valkyrie is an amazing catch.

But there is the small matter of making it to the States without getting caught. He is on quite a lot of “no-fly” and “travel restrictive” protocols. This sucks, by the way. He had frequent flier miles saved up and everything.

It sucks, at least, until he remembers Tony’s number and calls it.

(Tony had given him his number, but sometimes he forgets that four and nine are two distinctly different numbers.)

“Brucie, baby! What can I get for you? Don’t worry, the government hasn’t been able to tap my phone calls since I was seventeen and mostly joking about finding out where their secret weapons storage is.”

“Betty’s having her engagement party, and I’m invited. I kind of need a ride home.”

“Where are you located at, right now?”

“Buenos Aires.”

“You lucky son of a bitch, god I miss it there. You having a good time?”

“When I’m avoiding government agents, yes.”

“Hm, well i’m sending a new employee of mine to go and get you. Big guy, probably Swedish.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t presume if someone’s Swedish or not, Bruce. I’m a terrible person, but not that terrible.”

“I...I don’t follow your sense of humor.”

“No one does, that’s why celebrities call me avant garde and ahead of my time.”

“Good to know. What’s your new guy’s name?”

“Thor.”

“Are you...are you fucking with me?”

"Darling, you’d be having a much better time if I was.”

“I don’t like the energy we’re manifesting here,” Bruce deadpans.

Tony snorts. “Okay, hippie. He’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Just stay tight where you are, sugar.”

-

Thor is a gigantic man. He parts crowds like it’s what he was meant to do, and maybe it is. Bruce stares up at him.

“Hello Dr. Banner,” Thor says, smiling gently. “You are Dr. Ross’s friend, right?”

“Um...yeah. I am.”

“Excellent. I’m a friend of Valkyrie’s, is it okay if I go ahead and fly out to the airport nearest their house?”

“Uh, is Tony okay with that?”

“Of course. And we can stop at your house if you need anything.”

“Oh, I don’t have a house. Or an apartment. You would not believe how much the US government hates my credit score.”

Thor chuckles a little bit, leading him back to a nondescript car.

“Right this way.”

-

Thor is cool as a cucumber on the outside, as they’re driving. He’s mindlessly tapping on his phone as Bruce stares out the window.

Inside? Oh, Thor hates Val for this. So much.

so, you didn’t think to send me a picture of dr. banner? just the address?

lmaooooo called it. betty owes me something now. fuckin nerd. just ask him out.

no. we still have to bypass american security

which you are “old hat” at. or did i forget that you nearly almost charmed the pants off of one of the airline people?

we don’t speak of that.

relax. stark’s taking care of it anyway.

The airplane ride home is uneventful, thank god. One of Tony’s jets awaits, and the pilot is very surprised to see a man who ranks number four on America’s Most Wanted List to be there.

“You...you know Tony?”

“And you know what an NDA is,” Tony announces over the intercom. “Bruce, welcome. Mimosas are premade, in stock. Sit back and enjoy the ride! Thor, you do what you gotta do to make sure Bruce stays safe. Enjoy the bridal shower!”

The pilot is a bit apprehensive. But mostly okay. Bruce promises nothing’s going to happen, he’s just going to drink tea and catch up on news about the current state of things.

Bruce gets bored with finding out that things are still terrible, so he talks to Thor.

“So...are your parents just really into Norse mythology, or did they know you’d come out a huge guy who has the potential to probably stop Ragnarok?”

Thor chuckles, the laugh rumbling and deep.

(Okay, that’s hot.)

"My parents’ names were Odin and Frigga. You could say they were traditionalists when it came to my brother and I.”

“You mean...?”

“He embodies the name a bit too well for my taste, but yes.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. Let me tell you about the time we accidentally crashed a fashion week thing...” 

Bruce laughs a lot about that story. Thor’s laugh is majestic, and they sit a little bit closer. 

-

By the time the plane lands, they’re great friends and Thor reaches over Bruce in the baggage area and wow that man has very defined muscles. 

Not that that’s important. No, that’s like. Not important at all. So what if Thor is very well-muscled and maybe this will play into Bruce’s intrusive thoughts/daydream thoughts at later intervals? Does not matter. At all. 

(Oh god the man smells like salty ocean air Bruce has got it so so bad. So Bad.) 

- 

Tony greets them at the landing pad with a wide grin, eyes lighting up. 

“Well, don’t you two make the happy couple,” he teases. Bruce turns red. This does not go unnoticed. 

“Bruce, honestly, you run away from government and my friendship, and this is what gets you--” 

“A bridal shower? To get me home? Yes,” Bruce says, cutting in not-at-all smoothly. “Now, where are Betty and her bride staying at?” 

“Oh, they’re staying at the cutest little bed and breakfast for their bridal shower. Rented out the whole thing--well Pepper did, it was our wedding gift to them, and of course I mean Pep’s wedding gift, because I have something else planned-” 

“Please tell me that you do not have a house bought for them,” Thor says. 

“Complete with a laboratory and gymnasium,” Tony says with a wink. “I’m kidding, they already have a house. I just kind of kicked them out for a week while I remodel their entire kitchen. Val gave me the colors, I was surprised that she has taste.” 

“If she hears you say that, she’ll kick your ass.” 

“Which is why she won’t,” Tony reminds Thor. “Now, let’s get to unpacking. Bruce, I’m getting you some good shampoo, holy shit your hair sucks.” 

“Thank you Tony, I love and value our friendship and our kindness towards each other as well,” Bruce deadpans. 

“Oh come on, you have to look good. It’s your ex’s wedding party!” 

“You make us sound so dramatic,” Bruce says with a snort. “We broke up. Big deal.” 

“You and Betty...?” Thor asks. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine. We were dating, and then I pissed off her dad, who happens to be a general. I mean, also the government. But mostly her dad.” 

“Wow.” 

Thor’s type shouldn’t be feral scientist. But it is. 

They’re led inside, and Tony bids them goodbye. 

“Duty calls,” Tony says airily, waving. “Make yourself at home, don’t put coffee grounds down the disposal or I will kick you out. Rogers is still nursing his wounds.” 

“Noted,” Bruce says. 

“I drink tea,” Thor answers. 

Bruce shares a look. 

“You too?” 

“Yeah, I prefer it over coffee most of the time.” 

Bruce smiles. 

“I think we’re going to get along.” 

- 

They have a couple of days until the wedding party, and Thor has never seen New York. Bruce is fairly sure that no one will even see him on the CCTV footage as long as he’s walking next to Thor, so he deems it good enough to go and get a bagel. 

Thor is a very gentle man. That’s a good quality. 

He smiles at a little girl, who is staring, open-mouthed. Even gives her a little wave. Bruce grins. 

“You like kids?” 

“I do. They mostly just want to have fun, want to see what the best of the world is. I think we all need that occasionally.” 

“I’ve never thought of that,” Bruce confesses. He takes a sip of his coffee.

“I love watching my cousins,” Thor continues. “The way they grow and figure it all out, it’s rewarding. What about your family?” 

Bruce freezes. 

“Um. I don’t exactly have a family.” 

“Then you’ll just have to meet some of my cousins,” Thor amends, smiling as he sips his drink. “You’d like them.” 

“I’d like that,” Bruce says, grinning. “What’s next on our New York agenda?” 

"I told Loki I’d visit some stores for him and pick up some items he’s been wanting.” 

-

Have you ever seen a sales associate from Chanel be terrified at your presence? No? It’s worth it. 

Bruce is kind of concerned. 

“I...are you...?” 

“My name is Robert, uncanny similarities,” Bruce responds. “We both were born in Ohio.” 

“Why is it always Ohio,” Thor mutters. “You reckon my brother would want this shoe or that?” 

“Ooh, definitely go with the heel. I think that’s good.”  

“Gotcha.” 

Next shop is Dior. 

This goes a bit out of hand. His whole line about being Robert with Incredible Similarity does not go as planned. 

He and Thor are on a subway, currently running away from some authority figures and calling Tony. 

“I was in the middle of learning drama about high society that I can use in my next romance novel, are you joking?” Tony hisses. 

“You write romance novels?” Thor asks. 

“Now is not the time to question that, I’m in the middle of making sure you get a car to your next stop. How well do you both know what a Chrysler is?” 

“The building, right?” 

“God, I hate you so much,” Tony groans. “No, um...it looks like the wing things that they give army people when they do something that I guess they think is cool.” 

“Oh. Okay. Get in that car?” 

“Yes. It’s gonna be red with silver detailing.”

“Tony, they’re gonna know it’s us.” 

“Believe me, they won’t. Trust me.” 

- 

So as it turns out, it’s not the most ostentatious vehicle. 

Because Tony pulls up in a lifted pick-up truck, painted a sparkling, neon green with bright orange wheels. 

It is the ugliest goddamn thing Bruce has ever seen. Also the most effective. 

Thor nearly shoves Bruce into the car, and they’re sitting too close, and Bruce probably shouldn’t be focusing on the fact that Thor’s hair is now artfully messy, but here he is. Doing that. 

“So, sorry that before the wedding shower we’re being hunted down by the government.” 

“Not the worst thing that I could be doing on a Friday,” Thor says with a shrug. “I think you’re just about the most interesting person I’ve met, Bruce.” 

He smiles at him. Bruce’s heart skips a beat. He can’t tell if it’s because of the eye contact or the fact that they’re in close proximity. Maybe both. 

“You wanna go on a date after all this?” Bruce blurts out. 

He does. And as soon as he says it, he kind of regrets it because they’re in a car with glittery silver interior seats and he’s also in pants that have seen better days, and his hair is a Mess. 

(Also self-esteem issues, but Bruce is used to that so he’s not counting it.) 

“Like, after we get home or when the government gives up on finding you?” 

“I don’t know. Whichever one comes first?” 

“Technically, I think I count as army jurisdiction, and military budget is a fountain of money.” 

“Ah. Then home it is. How do you feel about ordering in?” 

“Mm, sounds good,” Bruce says, grinning. “You’re the best.” 

“Well, I certainly try,” Thor says, grinning right back. “You wanna go to Betty and Val’s shower together?” 

“Yes. Do we have to amend our ‘how-we-met’ story?” 

“Not at all. Valkyrie used to run an underground fight ring. She knows the feeling.” 

“How has that not come up in conversation?” 

“We were kind of preoccupied trying to figure out what a Chrysler car looked like.” 

“Oh, true.” 

- 

At the wedding party, Bruce and Thor are very happy. Betty and Val roll their eyes and laugh as they talk. 

“Leave it to my dad to ruin everything,” Betty gripes. 

“Well he didn’t ruin this party or my meeting Thor,” Bruce defends. “Besides, you know what happens if he steps a foot near you.” 

Betty grins. 

“You serious?” 

“Can’t promise you’ll get your security deposit back, but yes.” 

Betty pulls him into a hug. 

“You’re too sweet to me.” 

“Yeah, tell me that after he steps on the limousine.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry,” Thor says, grinning. “I think Tony has some sort of security feature worked in.” 

“Oh, he does,” Val says. “He’s threatened to pull some of the contracts for safety gear. Won’t go through with it, but Ross can’t touch the wedding. Best gift ever.” 

- 

When the party gets late, Thor and Bruce are sitting out on the porch. Clean-up is happening, and they’re taking a break. Thor thinks that Bruce has never looked more beautiful in a rumpled yellow shirt, soft lights making his face glow. 

“I’m glad I met you,” Thor murmurs, moving a stray curl. 

“Really?” Bruce asks, smiling softly. “I think I’m glad I met you too.” 

- 

Bruce grins behind his door when they make it home. Thor had kissed him on the cheek, and while that wasn’t too big of a deal, it was a big deal to him. 

“See you in the morning, dear,” Thor had told him. 

He was going to be up half the night with that line running through his head. 

- 

A lot of people do a lot of things for love. Bruce still wouldn’t walk through flames, or swim across an entire ocean, but he’s starting to understand.