#bedazzled glasses and everything

[gallonsoblood]

Ok show offffff

[donatellawritings]

NEED NEED NEED NEED NEEEEEEEDDDD sweetheart latina calming rafe down from an episode !1!1!1!1!@!@!@!2!2 i just know for a fact that he would avoid her to hide it

honestly, you’re so right lol - lol i may have gotten a bit excited

you had to give rafe credit: he hadn’t had one of his tried and true blistering breakdowns for the past few months, in fact, he hadn’t even punched a hole in the wall, since he met you. he’d been hyper fixated on you since the moment you first looked up at him through your wispy doll lashes, your dreamy eyes glazing over his strained baby-blues. you were sickeningly sweet, your cheesy smile clashing perfectly with his locked jaw and stoic frown. i mean, rafe had even decided to drastically cut down on his drug intake - seeing the way your swollen lips pulled into a displeased frown, overcoming him with shame and guilt. it was clear that you made him a better man, a man that could even make his family proud — possibly.

it was crystal clear that rafe was on edge, from the moment you woke up, you found him sat at the edge of the bed, his back muscles tense as he held his head in his hands, “hi baby,” you cooed, your lace white panties peeking from underneath the borrowed north carolina panthers t-shirt that you’d found sleep in as you crawled over to rafe, placing your delicate hand on his feverishly bouncing leg.

rafe blinked slowly, shaking his head as he curled an arm around your neck, hastily pulling you into his side as he pressed his lips to your forehead with a loud smack of his lips against your skin, “y’should go home today, i have shit to take care of and i don’t want you around to see that, yeah?” he decided, his voice low and stern as he kept his eyes focused on the polished hardwood floor beneath his sock-clad feet.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you pulled your hand away from his leg, sitting back on the heels of your feet as you ignored the sudden swirl of nerves in your stomach, “you want me to go home?” you asked, your voice lightly breaking as you stared at the side of rafe’s face, a pout now tugging on your lips as you reached to grab his face, “babe, just look at me-”

rafe was quick to catch your wrist, his grip tight as he finally brought his eyes to meet yours, his pupils blown to hell as you closed your mouth, “i said, go home, i don’t want to repeat myself, a’ight?” he rasped, forcing his gaze forward as you snatched your wrist from his grip.

rafe understood your behavior, he even blamed himself for it. he spoiled you, gave you anything and everything that you wanted, the moment you asked for it. you were spoiled and stubborn, you never took not getting your way lightly.

with an unimpressed scoff of a laugh, you pushed yourself off of the bed with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pair of your bedazzled light grey boyshorts, sliding them on swiftly as you reached for your phone. your pearlescent acrylic nails tapped furiously against the glass screen as you texted kie, warm tears clouding your vision as you snatched your gifted dior bag that sat on rafe’s dress to sit over your shoulder. crouching before rafe, you ran your fingers through your hair.

“don’t call me,” you sniffled, before pulling away from rafe who licked over his dry lips, maintaining his gaze to remain at the wall over your shoulder, “and don’t look for me, either,” you wiped your eyes with the sides of your index fingers as you grew frustrated with rafe’s silence, sliding your pedicured feet into your sandals before exiting his bedroom, allowing the door to slam behind you as rafe remained seated on his bed.

you knew that you were pushing the limits with rafe, but you needed him to feel even a fraction of the hurt and embarrassment that came from him sending you away. he was mean and you hated that cold side of him, you hated how well it got under your skin, you hated how it never failed to make you cry. your top teeth dug into the fat of your bottom lip as you waited at the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe he’d chase after you, wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay - you didn’t even care if he’d be lying, you just wanted rafe.

hot tears stained your puffy cheeks as you made your way downstairs, your lashes heavy and wet as you fought to blink your tears away. why did he have to be so mean? why did he have to push you away? your bottom lip quivered as you stood on the front porch of tannyhill, giving kiara a small wave as her car approached the residence. your cousin remained silent as you entered the car, her hand reaching over the console to cradle yours as you sobbed.

kiara was fully aware as to just how much you liked rafe, much to her extreme dismay. she was privy to, and oftentimes witnessed rafe’s violent mean streak, as well as his icy demeanor and it bothered her to know that of all people, it had to be you, her sweet cousin and best friend that fell in love with the only son of ward cameron. even though, she had to admit that even she had noticed his slightly improved behaviors, thanks to you, yet her disdain for the young man was quickly reignited at the sight of your usually bright eyes, now bloodshot with stinging tears.

she’d decided to wait until you’d calmed down a bit, before nudging your side with her knuckle, “give me your phone,” kiara asked softly, a wave of relief crashing over her as you complied with ease, setting the phone to silent mode as you slid the phone into her hand, “wanna go to the beach?” she offered, placing your phone into the glove compartment.

now fiddling with the diamond ‘R’ initial that hung from your dainty chain, you nodded weakly, leaning your head against kiara’s arm as she drove father away from the cameron residence.

ྀིྀ

it didn’t take long for your sad tears to subside, once you were on the beach, the warm and inviting sun, drying your tears and burning your heartbreak as you took a sip of the smooth mango juice that kie prepared for you. a low mewl of satisfaction left you swollen lips as you let the juice glide down your throat. you boyshorts and borrowed t-shirt were swapped with a pink triangle bikini set, your layered hair pushed back by your sunglasses as you walked along the shoreline, damp sand tickling your painted toes.

of course, you had found that your mind would flutter back to wondering about rafe, secretly yearning to see him, but you remained strong, mostly thanks to your cousin and friends who’d made it their mission to at least distract you for a few hours.

“‘sup mama! y’gonna get in with us, or …” jj beamed, pulling you in for a short hug, the hyperactive blonde nodding towards the water, cocking his head to the side as you shook your head.

“i don’t want to mess up my hair,” you whined, taking another sip of your juice as jj’s exaggerated sigh caused you to let out a breathy laugh around your paper straw.

“kie, she doesn’t want to get her hair wet!” jj announced with a playful roll of his eyes as your cousin approached the two of you, a face of annoyance wearing on her features, “woah, what’s wrong?” the blond asked, nudging kie’s chin with the side of his finger.

kiara huffed, before locking her eyes on you, “rafe is here,” she forced a smile, before swallowing thickly as she took a quick glance over her shoulder towards the opposite side of the beach.

you stomach sank as you followed her gaze, the sight of rafe walking out of his black pick-up truck causing you to freeze still. you ignored the small part of you that found excitement in the fact that he’d decided to find you, yet the sudden well of tears that glazed your vision proved otherwise. he’s the one that told you to leave, you didn’t do anything wrong.

blinking away your threatening tears, you adjusted the strings of your bikini to sit comfortably on your hips, “i don’t want to see him,” you mumbled, your eyes silently pleading with kiara’s as jj pressed an innocent kiss to the side of your head, before making his way into the water, avoiding any contact with rafe altogether.

“i’ll try to stall him, okay?” she shrugged, pacing backwards for a few steps before turning to walk towards rafe.

you locked over your supple lips, lowering your sunglasses to conceal your eyes as you watched kiara block rafe’s direct path to you. a small pang of guilt flashed in your chest as you watched him run his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration.

“kie, i don’t have the time for this shit right now, just let me see her,” rafe raised his hand, shaking his head as he walked around kiara, his knuckles swollen as he ran his hand over his face. an annoyed huff left his lips as kiara grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks with wide eyes.

“you told her to leave, don’t forget that,” kiara spat, snatching her hand away from his arm as she walked away from the taller man, hastily making her way towards jj who sat on his surfboard, carefully watching kiara’s interaction with rafe.

a silent cry hummed within you as rafe’s eyes met yours. your heartbeat quickening with each step that brought you and rafe closer. you’d become overwhelmed with anxiety as you suddenly found yourself spinning on your heels, walking away from rafe, and towards kiara.

“wait, baby, please, just-” rafe jogged up to you, softly grasping your arm as you turned to face him, sliding your arm away down his grasp as kept your head down, “c‘mon, mama, let me look at you, please,” he pleaded, bringing both of his hands to either side of your face, before softly lifting your sunglasses, revealing your reddened and damp eyes.

with a sniffle, you pulled away from rafe, “i don’t want to see you, right now,” you squeaked, taking a few steps backs from your flustered boyfriend.

“stop fuckin’ walking away from me!” rafe shouted, before grabbing your waist and holding you against his front, his chest heaving for a few breaths, before he let out a childlike sob, “m’sorry, princess, i just had a really bad fuckin’ day,” rambled, his tear-stained face tucked into your neck as you were quick to face him, a pout on your lips as you cradled his face in your hands.

“rafe,” you sighed, nudging his nose with the tip of yours, “que te pasa?”

wordlessly, rafe pulled you into his chest, his long arms wrapping around your waist as you both lightly swayed from side to side. you weren’t used to rafe being so emotionally vulnerable, he was usually the one who would calm you down from crying fits and panic attacks, so this was new territory for you. and, it broke your heart to pieces to watch your man break down in front of you.

“m’just waiting to fuck things up with us, i know m’gonna fuck up,” he ranted.

standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped your arms around his tense neck, “no, papi, everything’s okay,” you cooed, pressing you lips to his cheek as you held him just a wee bit tighter, “let’s go home,” you kissed rafe’s lips, a pillowy soft kiss.

“let’s go home,” he mumbled, terrified that if he let go of you, you’d find a way to slip away from him.

and so, you’d found yourself coaxing rafe into a peaceful sleep, your nails scratching gently at his scalp as he laid between your legs, his face smushed against your stomach. the dangle of his chain tickling you as he shifted in his sleep. you could see the gnarly imprint of his knuckles impacting the wall, as his inflamed knuckles laid against your waist, the chill of your seamless shorts easing the dull throb of his hands.

“i love you, okay,” you whispered.

“i love you,” rafe mumbled into the skin of your stomach.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

[enmi-land]

✶ৎ OUR UNIVERSE

──── 𝗐𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾

AU pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x fem!member oc cw. kms jokes, mentions of murder and violence, not completely lorea accurate (some changes made to og universes - don’t kill me) note. happy birthday to mila! 🎂 this chapter was inspired by ree’s connect, and the universes used in this fic belong to their creators respectively! 🤍 ❨ go back to LIBRARY ?! ❩

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY OUR MILA, happy birthday to you...”

Mila smiled as a cake was set before her, the flames of the candles flickering slightly with the movement of her members around the table, all watching her with adoration in their eyes. The sounds of their voice in harmony as they sang the birthday song slowly came to silence as they reached the end, and a hand found itself on the back of her head, patting it softly.

“Make a wish,” Kiara said gently, her hand on the phone to record the moment her dongsaeng would become another year older, another year away from the young girl she was when they first met.

Mila looked around the room, taking in the sight of her boyfriend's and their love-filled gazes. Just what did one wish for, when they already had everything they could possible want or need? She felt like there was nothing that could possibly make her happier.

Well, except for one.

Mila shut her eyes, her hands linked in front of her, as she wordlessly recited her wish inside her head.

I wish that— no matter where we are—we'll always find a way to be together.

#01. XO KITTY

“THERE’S NO SUN IN THE BUILDING, what’s with these?” Mila swiped the pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses from Minho’s face using her superior height. She inspected them under the light of the corridor, raising an eyebrow with an impressed hum. “These are pretty cute.”

“Naturally,” Minho replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the lockers next to Mila’s. He watched with a smile as she tried the glasses on, looking in the mirror on the inside of her locker door, which was surrounded by Polaroids and cute stickers.

Sharpay Evans, much? were the first words he said about her. He saw her on the first day of KISS Academy, bedazzling her locker with an excessive amount of pink and whispered it under his breath in Korean as he passed by her, not expecting her reaction.

Mila simply turned to him, flipping her long (and enviably silky, though Minho would never admit to out loud) black hair over her shoulder, before giving him a distasteful look from head to toe. And in flawless Korean, she had retorted, Last season Vogue magazine cover, much?

Yeah, Minho had decided, right then and there, despite being stunned into shock. I like this girl.

He had even forgone his usual tradition of pretending not to speak English on the first meeting. (Although, that was because she had an unusual talent for his mother language, despite being from China and supposedly never setting foot on South Korean soil before. To this day, Minho considered her excellency at languages to be an eighth wonder of the world.)

Mila suddenly gasped before hiding behind her locker door, shoving her face so far into the locker one would think she was an ostrich trying to bury her head in sand. Minho raised an eyebrow at her sudden movement. “The police finally caught up to you, have they?” he drawled, ready to list all the felonies she had committed since moving to Korea.

This included, but was not limited to: being way too pretty, way too cute, and way too lovable for her own damn good– not that Minho was keeping track, or anything. That would be ridiculous. He was simply tired of hearing it all the time from his peers.

Mila looked at him with those same wide, doe eyes that had wrapped so many boys and girls around her finger without knowing it. “Worse,” Mila hissed. “It’s them.”

Minho looked up at the end of the hallway, his mouth parting in understanding when he spotted a group of seven familiar boys gathered in a group around the locker of his (self-proclaimed) rival. Minho eyed the Korean-American’s outfit, disdained when he noticed the boy wearing a new pair of shoes that were only just released recently in the new fall collection for Prada. “There’s no way Park Jeongseong is wearing the new shoes I’ve been waiting weeks to order! Oh my god, I’m going to lose it– I’m going to throw up– where’s the bin?”

Mila slapped the boy on the shoulder. “Now’s not the time, Minho! This is a matter of my pride at stake here– I can’t let them see me!”

Minho rubbed his arm, marvelling internally at the amount of strength the girl in front of him held in her body. “Why can’t they see you again?”

“Because they made a total fool of me? And I look like a mess right now– I can’t let them think they’re the reason I’ve been lacking beauty sleep these days.” Mila suddenly got right up to Minho’s face, pulling down his sunglasses from the bridge of her nose. “Have you seen my eyebags recently? They’re horrendous!”

Minho blinked, his face calm as he stared into the abyss known as Mila’s eyes. If he were completely honest, there was nothing in this world that would possibly make Mila unattractive– least of all towards the seven boys she was so scared of making eye contact with. But he didn’t blame her for being insecure. It wasn’t as if they gave her reason to believe that they could feel anything for her… Not when the reason they approached her in the first place and acted so sweetly toward her was because of a bet.

“Why did Kiara and Kitty have to be away today of all days?” Mila whispered under her breath with a pout. “I need girl power, I need validation, I need support– all the things you’re not giving me!”

Minho was affronted when Mila suddenly pointed a manicured finger (My Melody themed acrylics? Really?) at his face. “Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to apply concealer over your dark circles properly.”

Mila shot him a watery glare. “Jerk.”

She aggressively grabbed a bunch of books from her locker, and– Wait, Is that Russian? Minho squinted at one of the titles of the ridiculously thick books in her arms, wondering when Mila had even learnt that language. The eighth wonder, this girl and her brain. I swear.

“If I don’t show up to economics later today, it’s because I buried myself out of humiliation and no longer wish to be on the face of the earth.”

Without another word, Mila scurried her way down the hall like a mouse fleeing before a cat. But she neglected to notice the seven pairs of remorseful eyes following her.

“She’s still avoiding us,” Jungwon noted with a frown, dimples all too prominent in his disappointment. A disappointment reflected across the faces of all seven members of his friend group.

There was an unspoken, lingering regret hanging over them like a guillotine. It had been a week since they were last able to see her smile directed at them, the way her eyes lit up like Seoul at night, galaxies and city lights reflected in the dark depths of her irises. But this was what they deserved. After the way they betrayed her trust, they knew better than to hope that they would be able to be with her like they did before.

To think all of this was because of a stupid bet they made to satisfy their own egos.

Did you hear? Sunoo looked up from his phone to look at the rest of his friends on that fateful night before the beginning of the new school year. They were gathered around a campfire lit in the backyard of Heeseung’s family’s holiday estate, which they spent their summer break in together. Apparently we’re getting a new transfer student this year. 

I heard that, Jake said, bringing a bottle of beer to his lips. The daughter of some supermodel from China. My mum keeps talking about how she wished she would model for our agency.

Won’t know until I see her face, Sunghoon replied. It was just like him: Jay always did give him grievances for his lack of awareness when it come to the fashion industry, despite his own stepmother being a designer herself.

To this, Jay turned his phone on before typing something into search. When he was done he held his phone out for his childhood best friend to see the images that appeared. Riki, who was beside Sunghoon, also leaned in to take a closer look. She’s been going viral ever since she went to the Versace anniversary event with her mum.

Riki smiled as he looked at the photo of the young girl, not much older than him. It was a candid shot that captured her delicate features in a soft smile as she observed the models on the runway with her mother whispering something into her ear. He couldn’t help but think she was the one who was most suited to be modelling the clothes, and yet she was simply a spectator.

Pretty, Riki said, before leaning back in his seat. And he wasn’t the only one to think it. I should get her number.

Too bad for you, she doesn’t go for younger guys, Heeseung said with a smirk. She did a Vogue interview, and she said she prefers older guys… So if you think about it, I’m the one with the highest chance of getting close.

That’s what you think, Sunghoon said, his inner competitiveness coming out to play. Wanna bet?

Looking back now, that was the single most foolish thing they’d ever done. To this girl, who treated them with nothing but kindness and genuine care since meeting them, did nothing to deserve being treated like a prize to be won. And yet, that was exactly what they did. 

You’re real pieces of work, Mila said, as she stormed into Heeseung’s dorm rooms— the one he had given her access to for less than pure intentions. She didn’t even look angry, nor was she sad: her face was stone cold, nothing at all like the warm girl they came to know her as. I hope you had fun playing me, but too bad for you, none of you are going to win the bet. I won’t be seeing any of you again.

And with that, Mila had thrown the necklace from her neck — the one the seven of them had bought together for her birthday — onto the floor before Sunghoon’s feet, before storming out before any of the boys could make a move to stop her.

“We should have told her sooner,” Riki said, his fist clenching by his side.

Sunoo shook his head. “No. We just shouldn’t have made that stupid bet in the first place.”

They had made the bet to win her heart, thinking it would be all fun and games. But little did they know that like the way, they would be the ones losing their hearts to her — and by the time they realised it, she had already gotten to far for them to reach, leaving them defeated and yearning for something out of reach.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive us?” Jake asked quietly.

The group fell silent.

“Well don’t you guys look positively miserable.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes at the familiar voice fork behind him. Minho always did annoy him— but he had to admit, he couldn’t help but be jealous of how close the other boy was to Mila. The fact that he could still tease the girl and see her cute reactions, the same way he used to before everything went south.

“What do you want?” Heeseung asked diplomatically. (He wasn’t fooling anyone, though— everyone could see the way his fist clenched at his side.) “It’s not as if we’re friends.”

Minho smirked. “You’re right. We’re not. But you know who is? Mila and I.”

Jay clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to walk past the cocky male and bump his shoulder, he couldn’t give the other satisfaction at knowing he got on his nerves.

“I can see you still haven’t changed,” Jungwon said, jumping to his friend’s defence.

He narrowed his feline-like eyes, trying to read Minho’s body language. But he genuinely seemed unintimidated by the seven of them, not caring for a second that he was outnumbered. (Because he knew there was nothing the seven of them could do to him, Jungwon’s inner voice reasoned, though he desperately tried to ignore it. Because he knew if they raised a hand against him, Mila would only hate them more.)

 “You always did try to one up Jay-hyung at everything,” Jungwon continued. “Too bad you never could.”

“Except when it comes to treating your girl right, you mean?” Minho taunted. At this, Riki lunged towards the male, all too ready to talk with his fists instead. But Sunoo was quick to intervene, holding the younger by the shoulder.

Minho put his hands up in surrender seeing the deadly look in the Japanese male’s eyes. “Hey. No need to get angry. I didn’t come to start a fight, believe it or not.” He fixed his blazer jacket before looking at the eldest of the boys. “Listen… I don’t like you guys, and frankly I don’t think I ever will— especially with that shit you pulled with Mila.”

Minho got closer to Heeseung, causing the latter to cross his arms and raise his chin in defiance. Minho narrowed his eyes.

“But here’s the thing… If you feel sorry at all for breaking her heart, you’re going to make it up to her properly like men instead of hiding like a bunch of cowards. She deserves that much.”

The group was silent as they witnessed the uncharacteristic seriousness of the usually nonchalant boy, and even more so at his words. But before they could say anything, Minho was already stepping away from Heeseung, before getting ready to leave. 

“There’s gonna be a party at Kiara’s place later this week for Mila before she flies back home—“

“Mila’s flying back home?!” Sunghoon said in shock, his cold facade melted in place of his heated desperation.

Minho hummed. “She’s going to be leaving for the summer break… But who knows if she’ll be back?” He shrugged. "Anyway, I've done my bit. Whatever you do with that information... Well, that's none of my business."

Minho turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

“How do we get into the party?” Jake asked desperately. This would be their only chance to meet with Mila if they could pull it off— their last chance to make things right before she left on the plane to China. They couldn't leave things as they were. Not when there were so many thing they had to say.

At that moment, all seven boys were thinking the same thing: They needed to show her that despite the fraudulent circumstances that brought them together, the boys’ feelings for her were true.

#02. JUJUTSU KAISEN

THERE WAS NOTHING NORMAL about two teenagers swinging weapons at each other in the lawn of a high school. But Seoul Jujutsu Technical College was no ordinary institution; nor were their students any ordinary teenagers. For this was the trianing grounds for a generation of future Jujutsu Sorcerers – protectors of society against sentient manifestations of negative emotions known as Curses.

The sound of steel clashing with steel rang throughout the air as Riki and Sunghoon continued to swing at each other, the former wielding dual blades and the latter wielding one. They sparred like they were mirror reflections of a choreographed dance: attacking in time for one of them to deflect, and lunging when the other withdrew. Each blow came in the span of seconds — barely enough time for the average human to register.

But their spectators were anything but average.

“Did your parents mention it already?” Kiara asked her childhood best friend — and only other fourth year at the school — beside her, not once taking her eyes of her sparring juniors. Heeseung wordlessly quirked a brow in response to her question, prompting her to continue. “The main clans in China have been in a mess recently.”

“Ah, that,” Heeseung said, resting his chin on his palm. “The thing about the Bai Clan, right?”

It was a hot topic amongst Jujutsu Sorcerers in South-East Asia, where news between the different countries — especially Japan, China and South Korea, the so-called Big Three of the East for their production of top tier sorcerers — often travelled fast due to their close connections with one another, dating back to ancient wars fought between allied forces of Jujutsu Sorcerers from the respective countries against legendary Curses.

One of the strongest clans in China, the Bai Clan from Shanghai, had a history of powerful sorcerers since the Ming Dynasty. But lately, the Bai clan has been at the centre of controversy: their most dangerous and treasured artefact, the Emperor Jade, had recently gone missing — stolen right beneath their noses. 

“Apparently they suspect the Zenin clan… but it seems pretty far-fetched to me.” 

Kiara couldn’t care less about the matters of the Bai or Zenin clan. She hated them almost as much they hated each other, as the both of them harboured a tradition of misogynistic treatment of women born in their clans. But this was a matter of safety of innocent lives that could be harmed in the crossfire of their feud if the rumours were true, so she had no choice but to feel concerned.

“It is far-fetched.” Jake leaned forward from his seat on the stair above Heeseung and Kiara, intrigue laced in his voice. “Because I did some sneaking around and overheard my dad talking to someone yesterday… Apparently, it’s here in Korea right now.”

The two eldest students looked up to Jake with curious expressions. “Here?”

They knew they could trust any intel gathered from Jake and his family. Despite being based in Korea, they were also known for having roots planted all over the globe through intermarriage with foreign clans, making them a spider web catching all sorts of information.

Jay, who tuned into their conversation, nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. The Bai clan requested to send out some of their Sorcerers here for a ‘diplomatic’ event — but it seems a little suspicious, especially given the timing. Why would they send their best sorcerers away from their home, when they should be focusing on finding their lost Object first?”

“At any rate, I doubt the thief is gonna get far with it,” Sunoo chimed in from where he sat, on the stair closest to the lawn where Sunghoon and Riki were starting to reach the end of their battle — the younger being backed into a corner.

Heeseung hummed. “I’m more interested in how they stole it— and for what reason.”

“Everyone, gather around.”

The students all stood at attention hearing the sound of their teacher, Rain, who stood at the top of the staircase, overlooking the eight of them below. But what caught their attention wasn’t necessarily the man himself. It was the girl who stood beside him, one they’ve never met before, and who was wearing their uniform: a black military blazer with a pleated skirt and knee high stockings.

“Teach,” Riki greeted. He and the students gathered around the teacher, all curious about the sudden appearance of this stranger.

“Who’s this?” Sunoo asked, eyes scanning the girl up and down.

She was pretty, was the first observation he made. She had long blonde hair (dyed, he concluded) and looked like a princess out of a fairytale, with the way she stood with her hands folded neatly in front of her. The way she carried herself was too poised, too proper to match the average teenager. Sunoo couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her just seemed… other.

“This is Mila,” Rain introduced, “your new classmate.”

“New classmate?” Jay asked with a quirked brow. 

It wasn’t as if he was opposed to the idea, but it was rather sudden. Still, he couldn’t say anything to question the choice before the girl bowed, as if on cue, smiling in a way that had her eyes crinkling endearingly. “Nice to meet you all,” she said. “Please take care of me.”

For as long as Mila survived, anyway.

Mila already knew she wouldn’t be able to last long before her clan finally found her. Running from them was the most reckless choice she could have made. But just once in her life, she wanted to rebel against them — to pay them back for all the times they belittled her, casted her aside simply for the fact that they couldn’t accept the sole heir to their clan after the passing of the previous head was a girl.

Just like the clan took away everything that was precious to her — her freedom, her autonomy, and most of all, her mother — she too had stolen the one thing most precious to them. The green jade ornament that hung from her neck like the yoke of an ox. The Emperor Jade.

She hadn’t expected to be spared by the Korean sorcerers who found her. Instead of releasing her from this mortal life which was both woeful and wonderful, they integrated her in their society and promised to hide her as best as they could from her clan. But she supposed it was only natural: She had a weapon that could be of great use to them, especially with their growing rates of suicide and declining mental health that attributed to their abnormally high levels of Curses on a global scale. It was better to keep her close than to give her away.

Whatever the reason, though, she fully intended on embracing this new chance at life she was given. 

“So…”

Jungwon glanced awkwardly at Mila. He was just absolutely adorable, his round face and dimpled cheeks making it nearly impossible for Mila not to reach over and pinch his cheek. His shyer personality only made him all the more endearing to her. And for once, she thought she might be smitten for a boy she just met. 

“You’re Rain-seonsangnim’s niece?” the redhead asked.

Mila resisted the urge to frown. It was true in a sense: her aunty, who had left the clan years ago with her older cousin, ended up remarrying, with Jung ‘Rain’ Jihoon as her husband. Still, the man was a stranger to Mila until yesterday. Calling him ‘uncle’ was more difficult than she would like to admit. But she had to, since it was part of her cover story on why she suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. She changed the subject in case anyone asked any questions of why she didn’t go to their school until now. “Uncle Jihoon told me about how you were the new student before I joined… So I guess that makes you my senior.”

“Eyyyy, that can’t be right!” Sunoo denied with a laugh. Mila really liked the sound of it, and the way it wrapped her in a similar warmth to the sun that shone above them. “We’re the same age, so you can’t let the younger ones be casual with you, otherwise they might do the same to me.”

Mila giggled. “Really? Okay. But since I’m not really your senior…” Mila hummed before smiling at Jungwon. “Instead of ‘sunbaenim’, you can call me ‘noona,’ instead.”

Jungwon’s face burned, his face now the same shade of red as his strawberry-coloured hair. “O-okay.”

So cute! Mila internallly cooed.

“How good are you with weapons?” Riki, the youngest student at the school, asked curiously.

He was a cutie too, even if he towered over Mila with his insane height. One would usually use the word ‘cool’ to describe someone like him, but for some reason, Mila had the urge to pat his head — a very odd feeling for her, considering she wasn’t the affectionate type.

“I’m decent,” she said vaguely, not giving the younger the satisfaction of a straightforward answer. “I’m better without them, though.”

Jake, who had the looks and aura of a typical Hollywood heartthrob, flashed a captivating grin. From the moment they met, Mila could tell he was a flirt — and she wouldn’t be lying if she said he was a good one, at that. “Oh, so you’re good with your hands, are you?”

Mila almost choked on her spit. Both because of the comment, and the way the only other female student, Kiara, had slapped the boy on the back of his head with a resounding echo that made the other guys cringe in second-hand pain. (Or was it embarrassment? Judging from the side eye coming from Sunoo, it was probably the latter.)

“Well,” Riki cut in once again. “If you’re that confident, you wouldn’t mind giving us a demo, right?”

Jay sighed, bringing a hand up to massage his forehead. It was amusing that he had such a macho appearance, and yet he was the most well-mannered among the boys as far as Mila could tell. It was unfair how he was just her type: not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he was a gentleman too. 

“She’s literally just started her first day, and you’re already trying to make her a training dummy.”

Mila pouted at the insinuation that she would be lose. “What makes you think he wouldn’t end being my training dummy?”

Beside Jay, Heeseung chuckled, his voice causing Mila to blush despite herself. “That’s not what Jay meant,” Heeseung assured the girl, a warm smile on his face that would melt any girl on the spot. “Riki just has a bad record of starting fights whenever he meets new people.”

Mila laughed when Riki looked affronted. “What? I’m just trying to get to know our new classmate better?” He turned to Sunghoon behind him, who had been standing a bit more distantly from them than the others. “What do you think, hyung?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms over his chest, Mila’s eyes drifting slightly to the way the black shirt he wore for training outlined his muscles perfectly. He cocked his head to the side, a glint in his eyes. “Riki’s right,” he said coolly.

“See!” Riki said with a smug smirk while Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Besides, we have the Goodwill Event coming up with the sister schools in Japan. We need to make sure everyone’s in shape, right?”

“Well you don’t need to worry about me,” Mila said, mirroring Sunghoon’s pose with his arms across his chest. “I’m perfectly in shape, thanks.”

“Definitely,” Jake muttered under his breath after giving her an appreciation once-over, earning yet another slap from Kiara.

Sunghoon smirked, sensing the challenge in Mila’s tone. The girl swallowed thickly, unable to deny his attractiveness. She almost didn’t catch the blade that was being tossed in her direction – but she had spent too much of her childhood learning to evade assassinations and attacks to have missed it.

“If that’s the case,” Sunghoon said, after tossing her the weapon with a cocky grin on his face. “Prove it.”

The air was silent as eight pairs of eyes fell on Mila. She bit back a laugh, the corners of her lips turning up in amusement.

She had a feeling she would like it here.

#03. AVENGERS

ALMOST A YEAR NOW. That was how long Mila spent wandering the globe with her head low, her guard up against any enemies who may one day attack her when she least expected it. Or so that was how she justified it.

Mila stopped before the television screens in the display window of the media store, her eyes trained on nine familiar figures being portrayed in the news. Her eyes traced over each and every one of them, blocking out the words of the news reporters. All she heard were the words: ‘Avengers,’ ‘missing,’ and the name she was given when she made her first appearance in public wrapped in the embrace of red magic. ‘Scarlet Witch.’

She missed them so much it physically hurt. But this was for them. The whole reason she ran from them in the first place, without so much as a word except a letter she wrote in a haste to get away.

It was selfish. She knew this. But she wasn’t a hero like they were – she was just a lab experiment who lost everything she ever loved, before they came into her life and gave her another chance at life. She wasn’t selfless, wasn’t humble, and she definitely wasn’t good. But if protecting the people she loved was a bad thing… then she would accept the role of a villain, if she had to.

“Long time no see.”

Mila gasped as she whipped around, long strands of hair whipping around in the wind. Her eyes widened at the familiar face staring back at her.

“Eonnie,” she breathed out in shock.

Black Widow smiled, that same maternal look in her eyes as when Mila last saw her. “It’s been a while.”

Mila gaped, her eyes blinked as she looked around the street. They were alone. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. At least it wasn’t one of the boys. Kiara, at least, could be reasoned with – but she knew she wouldn’t be so fortunate if it was anyone else who found her tonight.

“I thought we agreed to keep in contact,” Kiara said with a scolding tone as she pulled Mila into a nearby alleyway.

Mila sighed. The night she decided to run away, she coincidentally ran straight into Kiara, who immediately connected the dots seeing the bag on Mila’s shoulder and the cap covering her head. A single call to SHIELD would have had every agent on sight, ready to stop Mila from taking even one step out of their sight. But Kiara let her go. And Mila owed her for that.

“I know,” Mila said. “But I’ve been getting visions, and—!”

“Visions?” Kiara repeated incredulously. “That’s even more reason for you to keep in contact! You said the Mind Stone was fine the last time we spoke— which was a month ago.”

Mila lowered her head, looking like a wet puppy in the rain. “I know… And I’m sorry but I just— I just didn’t want to worry you…”

Kiara sighed before bringing a hand up to her head. “Well I am worried, okay? Worried because even though I agreed to let you do this, that doesn’t mean I like it. Every day I wonder if I did the right thing by letting you go that night…”

Mila gasped. A feeling of dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. “Eonnie… Please.”

Kiara shook her head. “I’m sorry Mila, but I can’t let you do this alone anymore.”

Shit.

Mila needed to get out of here. Fast.

Without letting Kiara say another word, she wrapped herself in a cocoon of crimson light, her eyes glowing the same shade of red as she took to the air, ready to flee the sight as soon as she could. But it was too late. Before she could turn — somewhere, anywhere — she was stopped by a wall of iron. A startled gasp left her lips as a familiar suit of armour rushed towards her in a flurry of red and gold.

In her shock, she didn’t even register that she had been swept right out of the air and into a pair of arms. 

“Jay?!” Mila blurted. She stared wide-eyed at his mask as if she could see his face through it — his angular features, contrasted by the soft look on his eyes. She wondered what expression he was wearing now, if he hated her for what she did to keep him and the others safe.

He carried bridal style as he flew through the air at the speed of a fighter jet plane, her hair whipping around in all directions as she grasped onto him for dear life. She could push him away, if she wanted to. She could overpower him easily with her powers and fly away to a corner of a world where no one could ever find her.

But she didn’t. She missed him too much — she missed them too much — to stay away when they were near. And they took full advantage of it to corner her and bring her right back, using Kiara as bait.

“Wait, where are you going?!” Mila asked, her voice muffled as a hand pressed her head closer to his neck, where her arms had wrapped around subconsciously. “Let’s talk about this, okay?! Just stop for a second—?”

“I can’t do that, Angel.” Mila froze at the familiar pet name, a warmth filling her stomach at the sound of his tone. Even though his mask, it held so much emotion in it, amplified only by the desperation with which he held her. “I’m not giving you another chance to get away. Never again.”

Mila’s breath caught in her chest. Damn it. They really were her weakness… For better or for worse.

Mila didn’t even register when she was on solid ground again. But before she knew it, she found herself on the landing platform of SHIELD base in the middle of the Yellow Sea, held to Jay’s chest as he landed in the middle of rows of airships.

Mila bit her lip as Iron Man’s mask retreated, allowing Mila to see the face she so missed seeing when she woke up in the morning. She swallowed thickly at the intense look in his eyes as they traced her every feature, so full of love she didn’t even know if she alone was enough to hold it all.

“You can put me down now,” Mila whispered weakly. 

“And if I don’t?” Jay asked, his voice low.

“Then I’ll make you.”

Mila and Jay both turned in the direction of the new voice. Mila’s lips parted as Sunoo came into view from the shadows, a quiver of bows strapped to his back and black uniform shrouding his figure like a phantom as he appeared before Mila. His hair was a new shade of wine red that she hadn’t seen on him before, making his foxy features even more harsh as he stared at her without emotion.

Mila felt cold as Jay reluctantly let her down from his hold, her legs weak as she stood on her own two feet.

“You have a lot of guts walking away with the Mind Stone like that,” Sunoo said with narrowed eyes. “If you were anyone else… I would have shot you down without a second thought.”

Mila pursed her lips. Of course. She knew as well as anyone that even if he didn’t have any powers, Sunoo was not one to be underestimated. His arrows could hit an apple from a mile away — least of all a 5’8 girl walking away without soaring a single look over her shoulder.

She deserved his coldness, she thought. She didn’t deserve the smiles he would share with her and they visited her favourite cafe, trying all the sweets to see which one was the best. She didn’t deserve his warmth, or his loving smiles. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Cut it out, Sunoo.” Mila’s wide eyes turned to look behind her. His mechanic falcon wings were spread out behind him as he landed behind Jay. He spared a nod to the man before his eyes landed on Mila, a conflicted look on his face. He clenched his jaw, which Mila could remember tracing loving kisses along whenever he would fly up to her apartment window in the middle of the night. “So you’re back now…”

Mila swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

Jake nodded, his eyes slowly trailing down her body, as if trying to figure out whether or not she was real. If it was actually her in front of him. “Yeah?” he asked uncertainly.

Mila nodded. And before she could say a word, she was being pulled away from Jay’s protective hand on her waist, and right into Jake’s chest, his head burying itself into her neck and his hands holding her lower back and her head to him, trying to feel her as closely as possible.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered into her ear. She raised her hands to return his embrace, just in time to hear his next words, which burned themselves into her skin. “But you’re in so much trouble when we’re alone, you hear me?”

Mila didn’t even have time to register the Falcon’s words before she was pulling away by the hips. One second she was looking at Jake’s annoyed expression, and the next she was staring straight into Riki’s eyes before his lips crashed into hers.

“Brat,” Sunoo said from behind the tall boy, his foxy eyes narrowing on him.

But Mila barely heard a thing. She was shutting her eyes and letting herself fall into the familiar pattern of her lips moving against his, their chests pressed against each other. The feeling of her hands threading their way through his hair in a desperate act to keep his mouth on hers. Just like the first time they kissed, that day he thought he lost her for good when she fell from the top of the Tokyo tower.

“You better not do that ever again,” Riki said as he leaned her forehead against hers, his breath heavy as he stared into her eyes with a sense of desperation just like that day. And Mila felt guilt eat away again for making him relive that same fear again. “I’ll never forgive you.”

“And neither will I.”

There was a flash of green before Jungwon appeared before them, the Time Stone hanging around his neck and his sentient cape lifting a corner and giving a small wave at Mila’s direction. Mila smiled. It reminded her of all the times Mila would pretend to run from his kisses, only for his cape to chase her and pull her right back into his arms again.

The only time Mila escaped its grasp was the night she ran away…

“Jungwon.” Mila sighed as the younger looked down at her, his eyes firm in their disapproval. 

“I have a lot to say to you,” Jungown said. “But that can wait until later. We have more important things to do.” Mila cringed internally, but didn’t disagree. “Heeseung is probably waiting for you in his office… I trust you have the Mind Stone with you?”

Mila lowered her head. “I do.”

“Good.” Jungwon turned on his heels without another word. The corner of his cape lifting to look back and forth between Jungwon’s leaving figure and Mila’s crestfallen expression, before expressing a sigh. 

A flash of lighting appeared in the night sky, and Mila shivered. She looked up towards the sky. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“Don’t know.” Sunoo shrugged. “He hasn’t been here for a while.”

Mila sighed. Riki lay a hand on Mila’s back. “Come on,” he said. “You can’t delay it any longer.”

Like that, Mila walked into Heeseung’s office to see him leaning against his desk with hands in his pockets. The space felt crowded as Mila and her men (were they still hers, though?) gathered in the room.

“It’s been a while,” Heeseung lulled, his expression not betraying a single thought. His eyes scanned her in a similar way to Jake. “You look well.”

Surely not, Mila thought. She felt anything but well.

Heeseung looked towards the others. “You guys can leave now.”

They exchanged looks. But none of them disobeyed the orders given to them, and they slowly exited the room one by one, some of them giving her pecks before they left, and others not sparing a single glance. But in the end, Heeseung was the only thing on Mila’s mind. Especially when he marched up to her the second the door closed, before lifting her like she weighed nothing and placing her on the tabling in the middle of the room, his lips devouring hers like they were her last meal on Earth.

Mila gasped as he pushed her down onto the table, her back laying on scattered paperwork as he hovered over her, his figure cocooning her like he was trying to hide his favourite doll form the world, to keep anyone from seeing or ever going near her. And really? Mila liked it. She always did. She loved the fact that she was the only one who could make him snap like this, lose all his composure.

She didn’t know how long she was lying like that before Heeseung was pulling away, his silver hair shining under the light of the full moon.

“Do you remember?” Heeseung asked all of a sudden, not even giving Mila a chance to catch her breath.

“Remember what?”

“Remember when I told you, I wouldn’t let anyone take you away from me.” Mila bit her lip, nodding at the declaration he had made when he and the others first rescued her from the scientists experimenting on ner. “If I knew you were the one that would make you leave…”

“I’m sorry,” Mila whispered.

Heeseung closed his eyes before leaning his chin on Mila’s shoulder. “You should be. I missed you so much, baby…” He brushed a kiss to her cheek, before nipping at her earlobe, causing Mila to whine. “Don’t ever leave me like that again. Whatever the reason for it was, we’ll figure it out.” He moved away and brushed a strand from Mila’s face. “That being said, we have to talk about—”

Before Heeseung could even finish his sentence, there was a series of shouts from the other side of the door. Neither Mila or Heeseung had time to register what was happening before the door flew open to reveal an absolutely pissed Sunghoon. 

All of a sudden, Mila was reminded of the first time they got into an argument, and Mila ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a week before he blew it and dragged her back to her place where he sat her down and stared at her for five seconds straight with those piercing eyes of his before she crumbled and gave in. Those same eyes landed on Mila and Heeseung now, before narrowing on the former. Mila blushed at the fact she was caught in this position, but realised that there were more important things to worry about. 

Heeseung lifted himself off of Mila to address the man. “Sunghoon.”

He didn't get a reply. Instead of greeting him back, Sunghoon was brushing past Heeseung and storming straight towards Mila before grabbing her arm and hauling her off the desk, wrapping an arm around her waist to bring him to his firm chest.

“Wait, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said placating as he realised what was happening. “Let’s talk about this.”

Mila’s eyes widened when Sunghoon began to swing his hammer in his hand. “Stay out of it,” Sunghoon said. “I need to talk to my girlfriend.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mila protested, “I don’t want to hurt you, Oppa, so let’s talk this ou— Agh!”

Heeseung was left to stand there with a tired expression as Sunghoon’s hammer carried him out the window, breaking the glass as he escaped into the horizon with his girlfriend in his arms. Heeseung dropped his head when the rest of the boys flooded into the room, all in equal disbelief.

“We just got her back, and already she’s been kidnapped?!” Riki asked.

Heeseung sighed. They didn’t have time for this. Thanos was on his search for the infinity stones, and he wasn’t going to let his girlfriend get away alone with one of them ever again — not if it meant leaving her vulnerable. And the others agreed on the same thing. For just ws much as she wanted to keep them safe from leaving them, they wanted to keep her safe by keeping her by her side.

So it went without saying, they as soon as Kiara caught up with them, he was suiting up, ready to lead the mission to retrieve his — their — girl from Sunghoon.

“Avengers… Assemble.”

#04. HARRY POTTER

AMORTENTIA. The potion of love.

Mila didn’t think she would ever need such a thing — nor did she want it, either. It was a fact that the effects caused by Amortentia were closer to lust or obsession more than anything else, and for that, Mila wished to stay well away from it. But as it happened, today’s Potions class happened to be brewing that exact potion.

Hooray, Mila mentally noted as she stirred a pot of pink boiling liquid, being sure to stand at arm’s length, with a hand on her nose, least her yellow Hufflepuff robes would smell of a very interesting combination of mint chocolate, bungeoppang, tiramisu, ramyeon, corn and… strawberries with chocolate?

Mila tilted her head at the scent profile. What was that about? She knew that the scent of Amortentia changed according to who smelled it, and served as an indication of the person one felt attracted to… But wasn’t this combination a bit too odd?

“If you lean back any further, your hair is going to become another ingredient in my potion.” Mila whipped her head around to stare blankly at the Slytherin behind her. She gathered her hair and threw it over her shoulder with a glare. “Happy?”

Park Sunghoon rolled his eyes, before looking down at his potion again. Mila didn’t know when it started, but for as long as she could remember, she and Sunghoon had always been at each other’s throats — exchanging short and clipped remarks, bumping into each other’s shoulders when they passed each other in the hallway, and glaring whenever they made eye contact.

She really didn’t know why he disliked her so much. But well, it wasn’t as if she cared…

Sunghoon took a sniff, before his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Mila didn’t bother to ask about it, before turning to face his potion again. It was none of her business what it smelt like — everyone knew what type of girl he liked, anyway. A pretty, popular girl like Jang Wonyoung, who seemed to be the only one he ever smiled at.

Not that Mila was keeping track, or anything. But Mila pouted at the thought. Because, seriously, why did he hate her so much? (But perhaps, if she didn’t turn away so quickly, she would be able to see the way Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on her back after smelling his potion.)

“How’s your potion going?” Mila snapped to attention when Jake, her seatmate, leaned over to check her cauldron. Briefly, Mila could catch the scent of grass and rain, attributed to the fact that the boy was on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. 

“It’s going okay?” Mila asked. “I mean… it does smell pretty funny, though.”

Jake tilted his head, looking like a confused puppy. “What do you mean?”

Mila laughed, shaking her head. “That the person I’m attracted to has a lot of different tastes in food.”

Jake laughed. “Yeah?” His smile softened as he watched Mila stir the cauldron, eyes holding an unbridled amount of affection that everyone except her seemed to see. “Well mine happens to really like chocolate — Lindt, specifically.”

Mila hummed pleasantly. “Really? What a coincidence! So do I!”

Internally, Mila despaired. She couldn’t tell why, but it really bothered her to know about the girl who stole his heart. It wasn’t her right to be, and yet she couldn’t control her feeling of disappointment. He had been telling her for a while now about a girl that he had his eyes set on, since the first day of school. And Mila didn’t know how to react when she found out, because she could have sworn that he seemed so much more affectionate around her than others, with the way he always had a hand around her shoulder or how he would lean closer to her when they were speaking…

But maybe she was imagining it.   

Jake laughed, shaking his head in fond exasperation. It made more sense the more he knew her, the reason she wasn’t in Ravenclaw — as smart as she was, she missed some of the most obvious signs around her. And yet, it only made her more endearing to him…

“I think I need some more flasks,” Mila said, as she looked at her bench. “I’ll be right back.”

Mila skipped towards the table at the back of the room to grab a glass flask before turning to head back to her desk… only to bump straight into a firm chest. Startled, Mila jumped backwards, only for an arm to grab her by the bicep to steady her before she fell over. She looked up in bewilderment, to meet Jay’s concerned eyes.

She couldn’t say anything except, “Oh.” 

Because no way the Park Jongseong was holding her by the arm right now, his face only centimetres away from her. Her face flushed a similar pink as her love potion, before she cleared her throat and stapled away from the boy’s touch, despite her body screaming not to.

She always had somewhat of a puppy crush on Jay since they first met. She was lost and couldn’t find her next class, and he, being a Prefect for Slytherin, offered to help her find her find her way.

“Sorry,” she apologised.

Jay chuckled. “It’s okay.” The boy resumed grabbing his ingredients from the table, allowing Mila to turn around and calm her beating heart. All of a sudden, it started racing again when Jay called her again. “By the way… Your potion…”

Mila blinked at the handsome boy. “Yeah?”

“Just wondering how it smelled, that’s all,” Jay said. Contrary to his usual mannerisms, he wasn’t facing her, his back instead turned as he checked the labels of several bottles on the table. Mila spotted a twinge of red on his ears, and wondered if he usually got embarrassed when talking about affairs of the heart.

Mila smiled. “Hmmm… There was quite a few distinct scents… But I do remember there being something like corn in there? Which was really random.”

Jay froze, his back rigid like stone. “Really?”

Mila hummed. “Yep! So I guess I have to give my future boyfriend some corn when I ask him out, huh?”

Jay didn’t say anything afterwards, so Mila took it as a cue to end the conversation there. She bid the boy farewell before making her way back to her desk. She was completely obvious to the crisis he had put him in with her words, as Jay stood there for the next five minutes replaying what she said to him like a broken record.

Shit, Jay cursed mentally, when he couldn’t contain the smile on his face. I’m down bad…

But to be fair, he wasn’t the only one.

When class finished and it was time to go, Mila found herself walking side by side with her best friend Sunoo who, as always, took the books from her arms and carried them in her own, looking like the textbook Ravenclaw that he was.

It was strange. When they first met, he was a library part-timer scolding her for folding the spine of her books while she looked like a child who had just been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Who would have guessed that from that day onwards, they would form a lasting friendship?

How did your potion go?”

Mila hummed. “It was okay. Don’t know how well it would work… but it had a interesting smell.”

“Like what?” Sunoo asked, a little too eager. Since they didn’t sit at the table together (because of assigned seat mates) they didn’t know what the other was up to in class.

“Yeah, like what?”

Mila jumped in surprise when an arm flung itself over her shoulder. She looked up and groaned when she made eye contact with Riki, the resident prankster. To this day, she still hadn’t forgiven him for putting pink hair dye into her shampoo, thinking it belonged to her roommate — who also happened to be Riki’s sister. 

At that moment she noticed who was beside him and smiled brightly. “Wonie! How are you?”

The younger boy smiled, his dimples poking from his cheeks. And it was so hard to believe that he — a Prefect for Gryffindoor — would be friends with a troublemaker Slytherin like Riki.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Sunoo said impatiently.

“Oh right,” Mila said. “Hmmm, well, it smelled like a lot of different things…”

Sunoo pouted at the vague answer but didn’t get to press the girl before Riki was steering her towards the Mess Hall and changing the subject. “Let’s have lunch together today.”

“We’re in different houses,” Mila pointed out. “We sit at different tables, remember?” 

Riki shrugged. “So? We can just sit with you — it’s not like you have any friends.”

Jungwon discretely elbowed Riki in the ribs. He for one wouldn’t let the tall boy get away with teasing Mila too much. Riki cringed in pain, before glaring at the boy, but neither Mila nor Sunoo noticed it had happened — after all, who would expect sweet and adorable Jungwon of doing any harm. As Mila said when Riki accused the boy, “That’s funny. Your best joke yet.”

Riki pouted as he followed the girl to her seat, despite his protests, planted himself beside her. Sunoo followed his example and took the next seat over, while Jungwon sat across from the girl so that he would be able to look at her when they spoke. People around them began to stare at the combination of colours before happening along each other, causing Mila to giggle.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually sitting here,” she muttered. She then looked at Jungwon. “Are you really approving this?”

Jungwon shrugged. “There are no rules saying we can’t sit at another house’s table.”

Mila shook her head. At that moment she felt a hand on her head. She looked up in surprise, when she saw Heeseung staining above her, his handsome face smiling warmly at her. She then noticed Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake with him, and remembered that they were close friends with each other

 “Then in that case, it should be alright if we join you, right?” Heeseung asked.

Riki glared. Why were there so many boys around Mila? “Actually—”

Before Riki could say anything, Mila delivered a elbow right into the same spot that Jungwon had. “Of course you can!” Mila said eagerly.

The older boy was actually one of the first that Mila got to meet here at Hogwarts. It was on the very first day of school, when she saw him charming origami paper cranes in the courtyard. She complimented him with sincere awe, and he gifted her one of them in return. Somehow, Mila always found herself smiling at him whenever they crossed paths.

Heeseung smiled, patting the girl’s head. “Thank you.”

Jungwon scrunched his nose at the adoration in the older boy’s tone because was he seriously baby-talking her? Sunoo had the same thought, and eyed him with disdain as he took a seat next to Riki, while Jay sat next to Sunoo, and Sunghoon and Jake joined Jungwon.

The eight of them became the centre of attention as whispers began to float among the Mess Hall, scandalised by the prospect of students from different houses sitting together. But Mila couldn’t care less. She found that being with them, she was more at ease than she ever was alone.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on over here?” Mila watched as Kiara, her older sister figure, appeared with a glint in her eye. “Is this a Mila’s fan club meeting or something?” 

Mila didn’t know why, but she was shooting out of her chair like a rocket, her face a bright pink as she shushed the Slytherin girl. “What do you mean? We’re just hanging out.”

Riki smirked at her reaction. “Then what has you so flustered then?”

Mila looked around the table and saw the same amused looks on all the boys’ faces. She cleared her throat before slowly sitting back down again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

And yet, Mila’s heart skipped a bit when the boys laughed at her expense. The sound of their laughs overlapping each other, bouncing off the walls of the Mess Hall like a chorus in a church… It was nice. Being with them was nice.

And when Kiara found herself joking later on that Mila must have caught a few crushes during lunch that day… She didn’t deny her.

She didn’t know what it was, but something about them together felt right — and somehow, she had a feeling that they felt the same way too.

NOTE. finally the au chapter has come 😭 dark moon ended up being left out bc well we kinda already know what enha would be like in that au… ☀️ but anyway! funny story, my planni for this fic was so bad- i was supposed to write one au each day starting on Monday so I could post this first thing today…. but procrastinated so I needed to just writing around 7k words in or day 😭 it’s now 9:27pm tho so at least it’s out before mila’s bday ends 🥹 anyway! hope you liked it! yhank you guys for a wonderful year with mila and enha, and hope to continue to celebrate more milestones to come — dia 🌸🩷

[ghastlybirdie]

cw: dementia, short mentions of ultrasounds/children but gn!reader (no use of y/n or names, just 'you')

You always hated the color orange; ever since you were a child you hated it. It wasn't a gentle color like green and it never brought you happiness like yellow. It doesn't even suit your skin tone so you never could quite understand its purpose.

So why were you wearing an orange gown? It wasn't the worst looking shade of orange you've ever seen, but you didn't like the halter top or the bedazzled bodice of it all. Your hair is done so nice and the minimalistic amount of jewelry was tasteful. The strangest part, though, was the other person in the frame. You didn't recognize them. You hardly could of recognized yourself. But it was you, and beside you was a tall gentleman, your arm is slung over his and your head resting against his shoulder.

He's handsome, you think, but he's so clean, babied-faced and awkward in the picture. He's wearing a fancy sort of hat and a neatly pressed navy colored uniform, one with gold and green and red and blue badges a plenty. And his blue eyes shone in the flash of the camera light, his free hand resting on yours.

He's better off with a beard.

And you were right! The next photo you flip through you find yourself again, this time in a much more flattering red blouse, sitting across from the same man. You can tell cause he has the same smile, much more natural now, and the same blue eyes still sparkling through, and a beard grown in. The two of you are at a fancy table judging by the wine glasses and candles lit beside you, and he was holding your hand again, looking at you fondly. Despite the yellowing photo in your hand, it felt so real even just looking down at it. He's holding your hand so gently, even though the place and time eludes you, you could almost feel it in your fingers right now.

You could almost feel a calloused hands, rough in the pads of their fingers and palms, yet clammy all the same. You can't remember why. It was infuriating cause there was a taste in your mouth that made you salivate and belly grumble but you couldn't put your finger on why. If it wasn't for the half eaten plate of food in another photo, you wouldn't have remember that that was the food you ordered. You wondered if it was good. Was it? In the next photo it was you and the man again. Still holding your hand and presenting it to the camera, showed a ring on your finger. You looked so happy. So did he.

What a gorgeous wedding dress. It was ethereal. Serene. It was exactly everything someone could hope for. What you would of hoped for. Long train, full skirt but not heavy, sleeves that fell off your shoulders tastefully, and a bouquet that held all your favorite flowers.

Such a gorgeous photo, a beautiful alter and wedding venue... and such a gorgeous man. He's dressed simply. Tux, matching flowers, freshly cut hair. And mutton chops. You think it's strange... But still very attractive.

The photo is warm and bright, the people surrounding the two of you as you shared a kiss with the gentleman. You know he's the same one. You can feel it in the way your heart aches and pumps inside your chest.

What a lovely photo.

The rest make your heart ache more. Photos of others, more men with rugged and scarred faces, drinking and laughing while you stood over a grill. Photos of the man on the ground, in the grass, a dog laying on top of him. Photos of times of laughter and cheer, of family and friends, you think. Times of happiness. Pictures of ultrasounds and babies, toddlers running and school photos of plenty. Photos of memories. Frozen memories.

Photos that now rest wet in your hands, your vision blurry and hands shaking, a whimper leaving you even though just a moment ago you were just smiling. You were laughing when they were laughing. Smiling when these people smiled. None of them cried, so why did you?

You can't remember why. You couldn't remember why you started to cry. You wept, even, as you pulled the photos out of the protective sleeves, tossing the album book to your feet as you looked over each photo.

You knew that these were photos of you, photos you stood and posed in, photos that had sounds and scents already built into them without a reason in your mind why.

And this man. This man plagued almost every single one. You were so close to tearing one printed picture in two, one of you in that wedding dress you can't quite put your finger on why you were even in front of the camera in the first place; but you paused when you caught sight of writing on the back.

~Wedding Day - Spring of 2014~

So you checked another.

~141 Bar Crawl, Bachelor Party~

And another.

~John's Big Day - Ceremonial Banquet~

John. The man with the beard? The man in your photos, the one with the blue eyes and crinkly eyes?

"Love, what are you doing?" A coarse, gravel voice jolted you in your seat, the rage filled tears ceasing long enough for you to see from where the source of your fright came from.

The man stood over you with a frown in his brows, nose whistling through the mustache as he peered down at you. He gripped a cup in one hand, kneeling down with a deep groan to pick up the photos scattered at your feet.

Your eyes never left him. Never lifted from his features. His hands were rough, even from here you could tell, and his mutton chops were still the same: full and well maintained, though much much more grey. Even with the annoyance they held, his eyes were still the same, brilliant blue. They were much better in person than in the photos.

John.

"I told Maggie not to leave these things out. Oh- You even took my favorite one out." Despite how unkindly of a mess you've made, he never raised his voice. Bothered no doubt, but not angry. Not towards you, you think. Even now, as the photos were carefully plucked and placed back in the photo album, his voice remained calm. Soft.

John.

He sat on the arm chair next to yours, nothing in between you two other than the well loved upholstered chairs you both sat in, both facing towards the bay window and overlooking a tidy garden.

"Do you remember this day?" He asks gently.

Yes. You shake your head. He sighs, something sad in his exhale.

"This is the day I married you." He speaks as if raising his voice would unleash a well kept secret. "I think it's one of the best I've ever looked." He smiled at you, blue eyes so bright, crinkling the same way they've always had.

John.

"And this was when I came home with a broken collar bone. I never seen you so angry before- Oh, love."

You're crying again. You can't remember why, but you understand. His thumb wipes away your tears, thumb pad much softer now after all these years.

"Don't cry. Not for this. We can look at these another day." He's tired. You can hear it in his voice. You heard it whenever he came home. It was so familiar. "I made us stew in the slow cooker, okay? I'll get you a bowl and we can watch something on the telly, yeah?" He stood before you could answer, though you don't think you could. Your tongue was heavy with words, the tip weighed down with something that made your whole body shake. He didn't seem to noticed, focused on his thoughts that he spoke aloud. Just as he always did.

"John..?"

He stood stone still, a shiver visibly running down his spine. He couldn't move like he used to, the captain retired decades ago and stiffness settled into his old bones by now, but he turned so fast that the room spun with him.

You both stared at each other in silence, the air heavy with something unspoken in the past several years, the seconds passing by painfully long. You were the one who finally broke the silence.

"John... Oh- John..!" Was all you could say, your voice rasp and cracking from lack of use, tears once more falling from your eyes and onto your lap. "John, Jo-John... I missed you."

John's face mirrored yours, trembling hands and watery eyes as his mind settled back into his body, feet already moving towards you. He called your name, tender as it ever was, as you cried and reached for his hands. You held them tight as if they'd disappear right from your grasp. He didn't mind. He held you just as tight. Looked at you just as deeply. There were words exchanged in your touch and gaze, ones you both practices and done time and time again.

But you knew those words weren't the ones you wanted to say. You wanted to say more, they were held prisoner in your mouth for so long, yet those weren't what you wanted to say. You knew you meant more. You tried, you did. I love you. You're an angel. I'm sorry. You're my husband. You're my life. I see you, John. I'm here, too. I love you.

But you forgot.

Instead, all that you could say was: "I need to go home..."

John's smile didn't break, not enough for you to see, he kept it up just for you; the smile, the photos, the old music and all. He kept it in hopes to help your memory. It worked, once upon a time, but time waits for no one or thing. It was a crude lesson for many. For him, it was a lesson learned again and again. And for a moment, he nearly lost hope.

"I know, love, I know." He wiped away your tears once more, letting his own fall into his beard and mask the weight that crushed his heart day by day, little by little. "You're home. I'm here. Come, come help me tidy up, yeah? Dinner is ready, love."

Okay, John.

---

Inspired by this prompt~

[ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys]

tig characters at the eras tour

they’re super rich so we know that they went and were all in the VIP tent

how everyone dressed up:

avery - miss americana

jameson - the heartbreak prince obv

xander - something 1989, i’m not sure

grayson - wouldn’t dress up entirely but would wear a tour shirt

nash - debut bc he’s an og swiftie (bedazzled cowboy hat)

libby - reputation, she’d wear that black sparkly cowboy hat nash got her in the final gambit

max - she’d have the red t shirt and the glasses

thea - reputation but more laid back

bex - folklore, she’d go as betty with the cardigan and everything

overall hcs:

jameson and xander make bets on the surprise songs (xander wins because he somehow calculated the exact songs she was gonna play)

max gets the 22 hat

bex SCREAMS the folklore set (not sing…screams)

jameson and avery are all lovey dovey during lover

nash and libby scream love story at each other (because they got engaged recently yk)

grayson slowly loosens up and is silently crying by anti hero

thea screeches “SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY”

avery gets a bunch of bracelets from little swifties

jameson is very serious when it comes to bracelet trading

max drilled everyone on all the chants on the way to the stadium

this combined like two of my favorite things so it was fun. @silly-little-gooses helped me with some of these <3

-zoey ☆

[l-crimson-l]

Ok so incoming gunpla post about tools:

So you’ve started building! It’s fun! It’s cathartic! And they look so cool!

But…

You kinda want them to look Even Cooler.

You also don’t have a ton of cash and you’re feeling intimidated by how deep this hobby can take you (you’ve seen those cool customs online). No worries! Here’s a couple cheapish (<$40) tools to help you get rolling on taking your kits to the next level.

1) Sanding Sponge/Glass File

These are great bc 1) they’re cheap and 2) do the job wonderfully. Specifically they’re for helping to remove Nub marks off the price you’ve cut from the runner. If you don’t know, Nubs are the leftover plastic still attached to the piece after you’ve clipped it from the runner, they’re important to remove bc of how the kit is engineered. Moving gimmicks or the sturdiness of the kit could be compromised if your pieces can’t fit flush.

The sponge is the cheapest option but it also runs out at some point and you’ll need to replace them. However, the glass file will simply just keep rolling. I bought mine from Newtype about a year and a half ago and it’s still doing great. I believe Walmart might have even cheaper options.

2) Gundam Marker

So you know those grooves on a part that’s sunken in? Those are called Panel Lines! Using this pen (it’s basically a Micron pen) you can color in these lines to help give your kit extra depth. This is especially great on kits that are primarily a single color with few variations (think Calibarn).

All you do is draw in your line and then wipe away with your finger or paper towel or what have you. These are super cheap and you’ll run through half a dozen or so HG’s or even MG’s before you need to think about getting a new one. With this you also don’t need to worry about top coating or being mindful about what you’re applying it over (unlike other panel liners where you need to keep some chemistry in mind).

3) Single Blade Nippers

So these are the most expensive item and while double blade nippers work absolutely, you’ll end up creating less work for yourself with single blade nippers as they can make cleaner cuts off the runner meaning you have less nub to clean up.

These ones I snagged from USA Gundam Store (they give a discount for snagging these) and they work great. Not the greatest durability over multiple kits as they really lose that initial sharpness over the first kit or two, but they stay sharp enough to do the job well. There’s several different options out there (some as expensive as $60 or so) but starting out a cheaper pair is great to have.

I used double sided nippers for the longest time but after switching I firmly believe they’re worth the extra $$ to invest in.

To elaborate on 2 bladed vs single bladed a bit: double blades cut from both sides (obviously) but what this means is that there is stress being applied to the piece from each side. This causes stress marks (if you’ve seen a white spot left behind after a clip that’s a stress mark) which either need cleaned up and painted over or it causes a crater in the part (especially easy to do when the nub is especially large) which either never gets fixed or you need to use tamiya cement to melt plastic and then puddy it innnnn and thennnnn sand everything againnnnn and it’s a pain.

Save yourself the headache. Singe blade nippers are the way. I especially hate those beginner nippers that look like this

I hope this helps you dig a little further down into the plastic crack rabbit hole! With just a little extra effort you can really make your kits pop. You can do it!

As always I really love seeing all the new people building gunpla and making it their own (special shout out to that person who bedazzled their guncannon). Love ya friendos

[devils-dares]

i’m a sucker for sunshine reader and frank bye😫 i need more

this is not-so-secretly my favorite version of frank to write. here's some slice of life headcanons!

frank definitely gives you too much leeway with how everything goes. he comes home to a different apartment entirely as far as interior goes everytime he leaves.

you stay good on your promise to bedazzle one of his guns, he comes home to find a silver and black bedazzled gun with a smiley skull on the handle

he learns how to enjoy the simple things again. taking you to the park, to fairs and dates, he loves showing you off.

more on you, his photo album is filled with pictures of you in the brightest outfits and the biggest smiles. sometimes when he's away and life gets too tough, he comes back to those pictures and even calls you just to hear your voice.

he thinks you're the most magical thing ever. he swears to you that when you patch him up, he heals faster, but you tell him that he just likes it when your hands are on him. he laughs and nods, pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses.

you collect shot glasses from everywhere you go, so he's come home from trips with little glasses wrapped in protective layers. he came home in the middle of the night one time and handed you a shot glass that read 'welcome to paradise!' with palm trees on it before he passed out, slumped at your feet.

he'll never say, but he can't say no to you. no matter how ridiculous your request is, he'll let you do it. you wanted to learn how to wax your eyebrows to save money, so you asked to practice on him. the next time he visited curtis he was laughed at for about fifteen minutes, you'd taken off half his left eyebrow.

oftentimes, you ask him to help rearrange things when he's home or grab things from high places. you then make a stupid joke like "if only the punisher's enemies could see him now." he laughs and kisses you on the cheek.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Yandere! Romantic! KNY Uzui Tengen Headcanons

This one with Tengen is honestly a bit rough and was a little hard to write for, but I hope it’s okay. Enjoy my glass angels!

Tengen as a romantic Yandere has the Yandere traits of; Delusional, Lovesick, Obsessive, Possessive, Overprotective, Romantic, Manipulative and Dramatic

If I’m being honest. Tengen would never be a “only you” Yandere since he has Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma, and him treating one new wife differently over his original three is unrealistic to his character so I made a compromise to make it better:

This is a very unique circumstance with the Sound Hashira himself. He is already married, not only married but married to three women. Why would he need a fourth wife? He doesn’t need four, but he wants four as he has eyes for the Ice Hashira, otherwise, you. You’re so bedazzling and jaw-dropping, it would be impossible to not fall for you on the spot

Tengen is a straightforward man with no insecurity and lots of confidence to back it up. He doesn’t fear to straight up tell you how he feels for you and insist you come over to his Estate for “training”

Tengen’s Yandere Traits begin very early, just like for his three wives and work in a pattern that extends to you as well; befriending, tricking, proposal, marriage then everything else and that everything else includes stealing away rights and preventing his love of choice from walking away from their marriage. He keeps his wives trapped under his thumb in hopes they’ll love him back eventually

Tengen is very lovesick over his new love interest, just like Giyuu. You cloud over his head as much as Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma do and he can’t function properly without seeing you everyday. He becomes overwhelmingly emotional if you’re not by his side 24/7 and he would probably go berserk so just keep him under control. He needs to feed his lovesickness

Why are you ignoring him today? You were enjoying your visit yesterday! Did he do something wrong? No, he couldn’t have! He only has been loving you, he’s the most perfect husband! What is the problem?

In a matching style to Shinobu, Tengen is a trickster and manipulates you into visiting his Estate a lot more then one should. Forces you with witty wordplay to befriend his wives and prays that you’ll like the both the friendly faces and luxurious life enough to want to stay permanently. Tengen is a chronic manipulator that plays with your decisions and drags you wherever he wants, it’s not like you can fight back…

Tengen is the least aggressive and murderous Yandere of the Hashira Nonad as he is 1) very confident in his abilities to woo and keep you as his and 2) he values his loves’ happiness and positive view of him severely. Why ruin that by killing when it’s unnecessary? His threats will run away with their tail inbetween their legs just at the sight of him. Tengen can easily get whatever woman he wants but he doesn’t mind getting a bit scary to shoo away those annoying pigeons

His wives, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma aren’t Yanderes but he is obsessed with them in the same way he is obsessed with you. Due to his extreme care for his wives, Tengen can’t do the lot that the other Yandere Hashira can; the main being kidnapping. Even though, his three spouses are scared of him, they’d be desperate to escape if they caught him kidnapping you. Tengen doesn’t want to lose all three of his wives for one, no matter how obsessed he is

Tengen regularly proposes to you and the phrase “regularly” means EVERY. SINGLE. DAY and each of your rejections just flow past his head. You’re rejecting him because you’re not ready for that type of commitment and that’s okay! He can wait! He knows you like him, you’re just nervous about getting married.

He just can’t see that you’re not interested in him because he frightens you with how needy-pushy he is. Even if his wives are very kind and all, you don’t want to be around Tengen

Though, he won’t keep waiting as overtime, he eventually forces you to accept his proposal through emotion manipulation and subtle bribery. You have no choice, you’re gonna become the fourth Uzui wife against your will in front of Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma in the Sound Estate

Tengen is the most romantic Yandere ever. He gifts you the prettiest roses, the shiniest jewellery, the silkiest kimonos all the time to express his intense affection. He embraces you, gives loving kisses, tends to your injuries as much as he can. He doesn’t think it’s over-the-top or unnecessary as to him, you deserve being spoiled with all the most beautiful luxury

Like how he is with his wives, Tengen is overprotective over you. In all means; during conversation, during battle. You don’t need to talk to anybody but him and his wives, they are your true friends, the only people you should ever rely on. You don’t need to battle demons anymore, Tengen can provide enough money and protection for you, just stay with him!

Tengen is extremely dramatic in his temper fits. He wants your love, your attention, your affection and he throws a massive flashy hissy fit over you giving it to anybody else. He mainly uses guilt and emotion-means to manipulate you into averting your affections to him

“How could you, Dokusha?! Aren’t we the closest?! I can’t believe you’d pick a floozy over me, I’m the best catch! Do you even like me?! You have torn out my heart and stomped on it! I will forever be in pain for this stunt! You’re giving other people the attention they don’t deserve! Look at me! I’m so much better!”

Tengen is hella delusional like goddamn! You aren’t frightened nor disturbed by his obsessive nature, you’re flattered by how much he cares for you! He doesn’t let any insults, begging for freedom or outrages you throw at him process, you’re just moody from that injury you got recently. You could straight-up punch Tengen for trying to hug you and he would happily go back for a second hug, his brain scrambling to explain to him that you don’t mean anything harmful

Tengen is possessive and obsessive over his three wives and his fourth soon-to-be-wife. You have his last name, it means you now belong to him and only him. You don’t need your friends, you don’t need your old family, you just need him and the girls, you’re safe from those vile demons and he’ll confide to all the needs he knows about to make you happy as every Yandere Hashira will do.

He loves decorating your Kimono in the flashiest gemstones as he forcefully cradles you in his big lap and gives you kisses all over as you hold in your disgust. You don’t want this manipulative monster anywhere near you

He lured you into his trap by acting like a confident, playful ally-to-dear friend and then his little choppers snapped. He kept twisting your head until you said yes to his aggressive requests. All he does is hurt you but he won’t recognise it as he is blinded by his unhealthy passion for you

Even though you’re stuck in this garbage situation, just having the caring Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma there makes you feel so much more safer as they will defend you from Tengen as much as they can. Rather you, as a Hashira, be stronger than all three of them, they are fellow manipulated victims of Tengen’s twisted love circle and will help you through it so maybe, this new life won’t be so bad

Really, Yandere Tengen is somewhat the most like usual Tengen, he just spams the manipulation like crazy so he make sure you’ll stay in his Estate then he can love you to drown away everything nasty he did to your head

“A-Ah, look, Lord Tengen. She is quite pleased with her kimono”

“See that smile, Lord Tengen! Our lovely Dokusha is thrilled for the wedding!”

“She looks so pretty! Don’t you like what we did, Lord Tengen? We made sure it’s perfect!”

“You’re so beautiful, my love! Words aren’t enough to show you how happy I am for you to be mine. My gorgeous ladies, you have done such a wonderful job! Our Dokusha is as flashy as us and I’m so proud of your hard work! Do enjoy this day, it’s gonna be the best of your life and everything beyond will be so flamboyant, it’ll outdo every firework out there”

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU

yeah you read that right - check out the tag I'm just following the brilliance of @cicada-candy and @wazzappp

At first, Robbie thinks he must be dead. He drove straight into a wall at forty miles per hour, by all means he should be dead.

This is like the fourth time you’re having this freak out, the snake mutters, coiling around the steering wheel. It flicks the wipers on with his tail, the blades struggling to scrape off the black substance covering the windshield. A ghostly body slowly evaporates from the hood.

Robbie blinks. He’s on the other side of the building, as if he drove right through it. When he looks over his shoulder, through the miraculously intact rear window, all he can see is a solid brick wall of the warehouse.

See? The snake hisses. He sounds incredibly smug. Told ya it would work. I think you got them—

Just to hammer down how rarely the snake is right about anything, he���s interrupted by a loud bang on the roof of the car. It’s promptly followed by manic scratching, like the ghost is trying to claw its way in.

Well, shit, the snake observes. You’re gonna have to get out to deal with this one.

“Like hell I’m getting out.” Robbie turns the key in the ignition to start the car again, the engine rumbling to life with a shower of pink sparks on the dashboard, because this is his life now, apparently. When he tries to step on the gas, he ends up jamming the ridiculous heel of his boots into the floor. “These fucking boots—” He tries again, only for his foot to slip right off the pedal. “Come on!”

The scratching intensifies. It’s gonna take the paint off! The snake shouts, like that isn’t a mind-boggling event all of it’s own. Get the hell out and kick its ass!

“You think I can stand in these?!” Robbie nearly broke his leg running back to the car when the ghosts attacked him outside the auto shop. Just because injuries don’t seem to stick when he’s in this stupid fucking outfit doesn’t mean he wants to try that again, much less kick anything. Inches above his head, the ghost shrieks in rage.

How hard can it be?! It’s just shoes! Women do it all the time!

“Not without– training, or something!”

The next warehouse is only a few meters away, and Robbie is an excellent driver, but he’s not exactly flying under the best conditions right now. If he can’t control the car, he’s going to end up–

A set of hooked talons breaks through the passenger window, the half-melted ghostly face lowering itself down after it. His options rapidly diminishing, Robbie grabs one of the bedazzled white hammers he ends up holding after every transformation and throws it at the creature, hitting it right in the nose. It wails in pain, but doesn’t stop it’s torturous crawl inside.

Get the other hammer! Don’t just throw it, keep hitting it!

Robbie does. He’s dimly aware he’s screaming the entire time, the black blood spraying out of the ghost and onto his white gloves, but eventually the ghost goes limp. It gives one last forlorn moan before dissolving into nothing. Robbie waits a couple of seconds, struggling to catch his breath, before he risks sticking his head through the broken window to see if this was the last one.

No more ghosts. The night is quiet again, the colours returning back to their regular L.A. light pollution levels. He falls back into the driver seat heavily, chin against his chest, which puts him in the inconvenient position of staring right down at the pink fucking gem embedded in his sternum.

On top of everything else, why does it have to be this violently pink?

That could’ve gone worse, the snake slithers across the dashboard to audit the damage to the window. Don’t turn back yet, the glass will repair itself in a few minutes.

“Why can’t it do that when I’m normal?” he mutters. He doesn’t want to be wearing a dress for a moment longer than it’s strictly necessary.

It’s just faster this way, quit whining.

Just to add insult to injury, the gunk doesn’t disappear with all the other magical shit. At least it looks more like motor oil than anything else – it’s enough of a pain to clean it up every time without someone calling the cops because Robbie keeps leaving dark alleyways covered in actual blood. With a sigh, he reaches under the seat to retrieve the paper towels and the disinfectant. It’s easier if he wipes it off right away.

Someone clears their throat outside. The snake shoots his head up, instantly wary, while Robbie ducks down – the last thing he wants is for anyone to see him like this, ghost blood notwithstanding.

“Hi,” he hears, before the crunch of gravel closing in on the car. “That wasn’t half bad.”

Robbie turns back around just in time for a blonde man in a leather jacket to lean down to peer through his window. He looks remarkably unfazed by having witnessed someone hammer thin air into submission, although he does look a little surprised when he takes in Robbie’s whole… thing. He gestures for him to roll down the window, and Robbie does, mostly out of sheer confusion.

There’s a motorcycle parked a few meters behind him. How long has he been here?

“Uh,” the man takes a second to collect himself. “Damn, sorry, I thought you were an actual girl.”

Robbie’s going to grow an entire beard as soon as he gets out of here.

He’s a witness, the snake hisses. You need to get rid of him.

“Hey, now,” the man protests. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You can hear him?” Robbie asks dumbly, pointing at the snake. “Did you–see? All that?”

The man inspects his nails while he talks. They’re painted flame-bright orange. It doesn’t really fit his general biker aesthetic, and Robbie feels something like hope kindle low in his chest.

“I think you and I should have a conversation,” the man says. Then, as if a hilarious joke just occurred to him, grins and adds: “Magical girl to magical girl.”

[thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite]

Do you want your eyes to hurt?

I can’t see anything!

The hopefully temporary flimsy sunglasses Blinky had been given to contrast his eyes’ light sensitivity were uncomfortably digging into his ears. They also, true to word, made everything extremely dark. He had to hold onto Pokey again.

Tinky looked through the handheld drawstring bag they had been given, analyzing its contents more closely; five brand new toothbrushes, multiple small toothpaste tubes, the medication bottles from earlier, a folded piece of paper, stickers, and a 20 dollar bill.

Sunglasses aren’t that expensive. We could find a store around here.

Like that one?

They look up at where Pokey pointed out. A dirty-looking tan building tackily called General Store is squeezed between two other, better kept stores.

Mmm, that’ll do.

As Tinky and Blinky dispute about Blinky’s choice of eyewear, Nibbly wanders to the snack section of the store.

Yellow’s your color.

I don’t hoard colors, they can be whatever color you want.

And yet you refused to buy those cotton candy ones. It fits with my whole theme park thing-

Those were impractical! And pink doesn’t suit you.

The few other people in the store give them the occasional glance.

Tinky!

The two stop their discussion to turn to the voice. Tinky squints, bemused.

…A crown? Seriously?

Wiggly has carefully placed a plastic crown on his head. His crutches make him stumble some while walking, but he gets close enough to them.

I deserve something for going through all of that.

Mm, yeah. You’re such a big boy, Y’wrath. But you already have your stickers. Tough luck, sorry, bud.

Wiggly excited grin slips into a glare.

You’re only two centuries older. That doesn’t mean anything!

Three. I’m actua-

I’m making Uncle Wiley sell Wiggly dolls right outside your park next timeline.

Tinky sighs, scanning around while they have their back and forth.

…Hey, Blink - Blair, what about purple glasses?

Blinky whips around excitedly, eyes sparkling. Snorting, Tinky plucks out a bedazzled pair of color-tinted purple sunglasses from the rack.

Putting them on, they allow a lot more visibility through the shades than the hospital’s sunglasses. Blinky hops excitedly.

These work!

Get in line, I’ll be there in a minute or so.

As Bliklotep leaves, Wiggly makes a face.

So he gets glasses and I can’t get a…one dollar crown?

Tinky hums, crossing his arms.

Well, he does need those…what’s your deal with this crown?

Y’wrath glances down, biting his inner cheek. He slowly looks back up, eyes teary.

…Pwease, Tinksy?

Your baby talk shit works with your dolls, not your older brother.

Shit.

The crown is taken off his head and spun around in Tinky’s hands.

Go get the others - tell Nibbly I can’t buy him snacks.

When they leave the store, Blinky looks elated.

Here.

Wiggly breaks into a grin when his crown is balanced on his head once again. He laughs - a hiccuping sound.

…You’re not wearing it to school.

I know that.

[thevagabondexpress]

let's take a closer look at christopher, matthew, and their shared love of downworld, shall we?

On the surface, when you read them, Matthew Fairchild and Christopher Lightwood are wildly disparate characters. They have almost nothing in common. But then we get to the Shadow Market in Chain of Iron, and suddenly—suddenly Christopher Lightwood is a whole different man from the owlish, absentminded, socially inept little being we see around his friends and among the Enclave in general.

He's street-smart, avoiding the dangers of the Shadow Market with the practiced ease of many, many visits, he haggles like an expert (to quote Cordelia), and what's more, he's openly Nephilim in a place that seems to generally despise Shadowhunters and yet he and the vendors are familiar, even friendly with each other, Christopher chats as comfortably as he haggles, and in general he seems far more comfortable there than he does among the Nephilim of the Enclave, even those he considers his closest friends.

Up until then, Matthew and Anna were the characters we associated with Downworld. They frequent the Hell Ruelle, and are welcome and beloved there, and it's made clear that Matthew adores the Downworlders and their way of life, watching with starstruck eyes and longing to join in.

Matthew is the Downworlder lover extraordinaire—or is he? Hypatia states quite plainly in Chain of Gold that Matthew is welcomed into the Ruelle because he's pretty and amusing: he's there as a lovely plaything, a pawn of the other guests, a runed curiosity who can't seem to keep it in his pants and doesn't seem to realize that he can say no. The way he's treated by the Hell Ruelle is exploitative at best. And in the Shadow Market? He's swindled and snubbed like everyone else. Matthew adores the Downworld, but he looks at it through glittering rose-colored glasses, viewing it with the fetishized fascination for the exotic of a British colonist writing a travelogue of the Near East. He's Lawrence of Arabia, Marco Polo, Gertrude Bell.

Christopher in the Shadow Market, by contrast, is one of them already. "Christopher Lightwood!" one vendor calls. "Just the man I was hoping to see!" Granted, I don't know how they'd treat him if he wasn't such an extravagant spender but I imagine he would still be welcomed, if perhaps not hailed so loudly. But why? Christopher isn't scandalous, or extravagant. From everything we've seen he holds himself to high standards and lives a fairly clean lifestyle: he doesn't sleep around, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't do drugs or drink to excess.

But at the same time, while Matthew does do those things, he also gets treated like a toy by the Ruelle, and I am willing to bet you the moment he puts his foot down and says no to somebody, they'll stop letting him in.

Christopher, on the other hand, is humble. We're shown frequently through his interactions with his friends and family and other members of the Enclave that he doesn't place himself higher and believe himself better than anyone else. Neither does he seem to buy the prejudices those around him seem to hold: why should women, or Downworlders, or people of color, be considered lesser than someone else? He considers everyone on equal footing in that respect and judges them based on who they are as individual persons. And even then he shows a great capacity for leniency and forgiveness: he's the first of them to accept Grace, and while he goes along with his friends' hatred of Alastair in spirit, his actions don't suggest he really dislikes Alastair that much at all (except when he's insulting Anna, that is).

We see all of those behaviors from a distance in the Shadow Market scene, in the way he haggles and chats with the vendors and the fact that he doesn't seem either afraid of or bedazzled by the Market at all.

Ultimately, Christopher surpasses Matthew when it comes to knowledge of and position within the Downworld. Where Matthew treats the Downworld like a curio cabinet, and is exploited for his hedonist nature in turn, Christopher treats the denizens of the Shadow Market as equals, and receives equal treatment back from them, welcomed as a customer, a regular, yea even a friend.

TL; DR, Christopher has always been the true Downworlder spirit, and Matthew needs to wake up and put his foot down before he gets himself seriously hurt—again.

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: Hi again, it’s me. This chapter might be a little bit of a filler but we are getting places, trust me. If all goes according to plan we *might* get one of those BIG questions answered next chapter. Anyway. Thanks for reading. 

CW: Mentions of physical assault and injuries.

~ All This Time Masterlist ~ 

~~~~~

Aelin lay in the hospital bed, dazed and trying to sort through what her life had become. Her bed was raised so she was part way reclined, the closed blinds in front of her holding her unfocused gaze while her mind tried to comprehend the last few hours. The course she had been set on was drastically altered, every plan and thought she had for her future no longer mattered. Lysandra and Ben had worked together to get her out—the risk they had taken stuck with her through the haze of everything. That along with the look on Arobynn’s face as he showed her no mercy. What in Mala’s name had happened to her? And what was she supposed to do now?

All the while her body ached. She didn’t know if they were withholding pain medication due to her pregnancy or if Arobynn had been that effective in his pursuit to hurt her, but every little move caused pain. Her shoulder, her ribs, her legs, her arms. Her injured arm that should have been in brace was now wrapped in white gauze, stiff but not like a full cast. She remembered the sting of glass cutting into her skin, the pressure on her bones. The bastard had gone for where she was weakest, manipulated her body to bow to him through pain. Aelin blinked, her mouth parted as her breath started to become sharper.

She closed her eyes against the pain and the onslaught of emotions. At least in the hospital she would be safe. In here, at least for now, Arobynn couldn’t reach her. Rowan was a smart and overly fussy man, and by now he would have at least connected a few of the dots from what he had witnessed. If there was a threat coming for her, Aelin had no doubt whatsoever that he would do his best to put a stop to it. How he felt wouldn’t sway his opinion in that regard. But it would only be a matter of time before Arobynn managed to track her down. He never was one to let go of what was his. That thought made Aelin shiver, tugging the blanket tighter around her like that would shield her from the world. 

Her hand brushed against the soft cloth that covered her upper body, startling Aelin into realising what she now wore. There was no bedazzled corset, she hoped it was torn beyond repair somewhere. Further inspection found that she had been left in her shorts and it was just the gown and socks that were new. They must have removed the corset to assess her injuries. The longer Aelin thought about it, she began to remember one of the doctors running an ultrasound on her stomach, other doctors poking and running their cool gloved hands over her skin…

Rowan. Gods, had Rowan been one of the doctors that had assessed her? 

Aelin screwed her eyes shut like that would help her remember the faces that had been floating around her after the pain and shock had taken over. She did see him, but it was only in the dim lights of the street. Nothing of him came to her under the glaring bright fluorescent lights of the treatment room. That gave her a little bit of hope that he hadn’t seen her in such a vulnerable state. They had seen each other naked plenty of times, but under these circumstances it felt well and truly on the wrong side of invasive. Aelin knew that he had been the one to ease her onto the gurney and guide it inside. Sometime between then and and being whisked off for treatment he had left her. And then she had asked for him…

She had messed up—so hard. Would Rowan even come? Aelin wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. After what she had done to him, she could find no fault if he chose to stay away, to put more distance between them and push her away. She deserved every ounce of resentment Rowan had for her. But on those previous visits to the emergency room he had tried to talk to her and help her. He wasn’t ready to abandon her completely. 

That was more than she had given him. 

The door opened and Aelin’s lungs just about seized with how quickly her breath caught. Rowan stepped into her room, face harried with concern and tiredness. Shame pricked at Aelin for causing it. He waited, mostly for her to say something, but nothing came. She had no words to give him, no idea what she could say to bridge the gaping ravine between them. Her post trauma delirium had a lot to answer for. 

When it was more that evident she wasn’t going to say anything Rowan filled the silence instead. “How are you feeling?”

“Um…” her voice was wrecked, barely more than a croak. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why her voice was struggling. It might have been the begging, or the crying, or damage that Arobynn had inflicted when he had her by the throat. Aelin couldn’t bear to push it more so she just shrugged, her shoulder giving a sharp twinge of pain. 

“I spoke to your doctors and everything looks okay. You’re doing well,” Rowan offered. 

It was instinct for Aelin to cover the very small bump, her arms banding around her stomach under the blanket. Rowan watched the movement, his eyes knowing even though he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing. He looked away, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Lorcan,” Rowan cleared his throat after using the unfamiliar name. “I mean Doctor Salvaterre checked over the baby, I don’t know if you were awake. He said the baby was stable.”

“I wasn’t,” Aelin said, her voice nothing more than a harsh whisper. “I don’t remember that bit.”

“He’s head on OB, so I’d trust his assessment,” Rowan said.

“Thank you.” Aelin meant it more for than the gentle reassurance, and from the way Rowan looked at her she knew he had caught that too. 

“You wanted to see me?” He asked, and Aelin really wished he hadn’t. 

She didn’t have an answer to that, not for him and not for herself. It had been a moment of weakness that was leading to a painfully awkward situation for the both of them. Aelin was in enough pain as it was, she didn’t need this too. This needed to be dismissed and forgotten.

“I think I just wanted to see a familiar face,” she told him, looking down at the waffled blanket she’d been given. “I needed something to remind me where I was.”

“Okay,” Rowan said. 

Aelin couldn’t read his tone, she’d lost that ability after all these years apart. The man in this room was practically a stranger in all but name. This was not the same Rowan that she had been in love with six years ago, and gods knew what he thought of her. Doctor Rowan Whitethorn was entirely unknown to her. 

“What happens now?” She asked, the unpredictability of her future starting to overwhelm her again. 

“I’ll have to check your chart.” Then Rowan hesitated. “I mean, if that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Oh,” his consideration was enough to take Aelin aback. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I didn’t want to presume,” he rambled. 

“I—’’ she caught herself before she said his name, it now felt too intimate for the situation. “Really, it’s fine.”

This silence was painfully awkward and stretched out far too long. Aelin glanced at Rowan and he looked as though he was considering what to say next. She could see him mulling over his words and she wondered what they might be. Was he about to deliver some devastating medical diagnosis she hadn’t been made aware of yet?

A gentle knock on her door drew the attention of both of them, and Aelin tried not to gape at the beautiful man in her doorway. Her unfiltered reactions made her wonder if she’d received some kind of brain injury. He was dressed in a button up and dark pants, that certainly seemed very out of place for this early in the morning. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I would really like to get back to bed sometime soon,” he said with a charming smile. 

Aelin caught Rowan rolling his eyes at the newcomer, that familiar sign of irritation almost had her wanting to smile. 

“This my friend, Fenrys,” Rowan introduced the stunning. “He’s on the city’s police force and—’’

“He’s what?” Aelin’s stomach sank so fast that she nearly vomited. 

“I specialise in damsels in distress.” This man had the audacity to give her a flirtatious wink. 

His attempts were fruitless, and Aelin relied on the training she had acquired over recent years to harden her features into something unreadable. “I’m not a damsel.”

“I can see that,” Fenrys said, his voice softening just a touch. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t need help sometimes.”

His sincerity almost weaved its way through the cracks in her facade brought on by exhaustion and pain, but Aelin couldn’t shake the mistrust. Talking to the police was toeing a dangerous line. She’d seen enough consequences of what happened when someone in Arobynn’s circle interacted with the police. For Aelin it was more than a cautionary tale, it was an inevitable ending. Rowan shifted a little, and Aelin shot him a glare that told him this was a godsdamned stupid idea. 

“I’ll go,” he hurried to say. At the door Rowan stopped, one hand on the handle ready to pull it closed. “I’m just outside if you need me.”

I won’t is what Aelin refrained from saying aloud. She’d done this on her own so far, there was nothing stopping her from continuing on that same path. Except for the fact she was in the hospital, injured and displaced. There was also the high possibility that Arobynn was likely to come after her. And there was her baby.

The odds were stacked up and they were not in her favour. 

Fenrys pulling over a chair closer to her bed had Aelin snapping out of her spiral. He sat, hands clasped between his knees, looking casual and friendly as could be. Too bad he was a cop. Just the smallest amount she edged further away on the bed. The movement didn’t go unnoticed, and concern had Fenrys’ brows lowering. 

“As you know I’m Fenrys, but I don’t know yours,” he said mildly, all flirtation vanishing.

“You don’t need it,” Aelin told him. 

A wry smile threatened to overtake the troubled look on his face. “I’m sure you’re right. I guess ma’am will have to do.”

“That’s awful.”

This time Fenrys broke and laughed. “It’s your choice.”

“Celeana,” Aelin said after a moment of thoughtful hesitation. 

“Pleased to meet you, Celaena,” Fenrys said, extending his hand. 

Aelin eyed it for a moment, Fenrys quirked an eyebrow that was almost a challenge. She dropped the blanket enough to extend her arm to shake the hand. The exchange was brief and overly gentle, and Aelin was more than happy to retreat back to the safety of her blanket. 

“I just want to make a few things clear. First of all, I’m off the clock on this one. I’m supposed to be on duty in,” Fenrys checked his watch, “in four hours. So anything you say to me is off the record unless you say otherwise. Secondly, I’m here at the request of a friend, who seems very concerned about your welfare. If you want to sit here in silence and bask in my beauty he’ll still owe me for this.”

The burst of laughter came so suddenly that it hurt, it pained her ribs and then the tensing afterwards made everywhere else ache. Gods, she was going to be miserable for days. Fenrys gave her an apologetic look, like he was sorry for causing her pain. 

“You didn’t cause this, so don’t be sorry,” Aelin told him.

“Celaena, we can help you,” Fenrys said, so earnestly it was clear why this guy could make it as a cop. “You just need to tell me who hurt you.”

~~~~~

The first thing Rowan did when he left Aelin’s room was head to the nurses station and check her chart. It listed her traumas, and each one had his jaw clenching just that little bit harder. It was more than evident that someone had knowingly inflicted these injuries on her, none of this could be described as an accident. The injuries to her ribs showed no regard for her pregnancy. There was a possibility that whoever assaulted her didn’t know about the baby, and Rowan hoped on behalf of the bastard’s soul that that was the case.

There was bruising to Aelin’s legs, arms, torso and neck, along with the cuts on her face he’d already seen. It also looked like her injured arm had been re-damaged. There were notes referring to the scans they had done. Rowan focused on the ultrasound that Lorcan had done to reconfirm what he had been told earlier. 

Foetus stable, no sign of placental damage. Continue to monitor. 

Rowan sighed, a heavy weight sinking into his chest. Aelin could have been killed, the baby might have died. He wanted to hunt down whoever had done this and make them pay. The vehemence of his emotions were startling, but they weren’t uncalled for. People who assaulted women like this were the scum of the earth. The best he could hope for Aelin giving Fenrys enough information for the police to take action. Calling Fenrys in might have been a bad decision in hindsight, but Rowan wanted to help and to help keep Aelin safe. He’d exhaust every avenue to make that happen. 

Their interaction before was awkward to say the least, especially when it was clear that Aelin hadn’t wanted him there. When she had been in his arms, delirious from shock and pain, she had clung to him like a lifeline. There had been a reason for that. Somewhere no matter how buried, Aelin still trusted him—still felt safe with him. And although it was confusing and may ruin him, Rowan wouldn’t let that go to waste. 

Done with the chart, Rowan handed the electronic tablet back to the nurse and turned towards Aelin’s door. It was still closed, and Fenrys hadn’t come to find him, so through basic deduction he could safely assume they were still in there. Rowan knew that Fenrys would employ his charm to try and get Aelin at ease. It grated on his nerves no matter how foolish he told himself it was. Aelin had seemed equally as pissed, but that might have just been directed at Rowan for getting the police involved in the first place. 

“Hey.”

Rowan had been so focused on the door that Lyria had snuck up on him.

“Hey,” Rowan said, turning to face her. “I, ah, checked her chart.”

“I thought you might,” Lyria said. “We want to keep her in for a couple of days for observation. I suspect a concussion and if that’s not monitored properly it could cause complications with the pregnancy.”

Rowan refrained from swearing under her breath. “Thank you for stepping in. You made the right call.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lyria said.

Rowan was saved from further conversation by Aelin’s door opening, not forgetting what Lyria had been broaching when they were interrupted. The sound of the door clicking shut was one of the few in the hallway at this hour. Fenrys looked both ways before trying to locate Rowan, but he was already moving. 

“Thanks again,” Rowan threw over his shoulder, but Lyria wasn’t listening. She was too busy talking things over with a nurse.

Fenrys yawned just as Rowan reached him. “My boss is going to kick my ass today.”

“In here.” Ignoring the complaint Rowan opened the door to an empty room. When the door was closed he turned to his friend, and found him looking more serious than he’d seen in a while. “So? What did you find out?”

“Not much, but even if I did I couldn’t tell you,” Fenrys replied. 

Rowan hung his head, hands scrubbing at his face. He needed to sleep, but this took precedence by a long mile. “You can’t give me anything?”

“She’s adamant she fell,” Fenrys’ voice indicated he believed it for the lie it was. 

“You don’t get those injuries from a fall,” Rowan did nothing to hide his anger. 

“I overheard some things, in that painfully awkward conversation you were orchestrating in there,” Fenrys hedged. “Who is she to you?”

The question had Rowan faltering. It was only his family that he had gone into detail about the relationship he’d had with Aelin. The distance had left him less forthcoming with his friends, and they knew the barest details. There had been a girl and it had ended badly. This wouldn’t be the time to fill in the gaps. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a shake of his head. 

There was a beat of silence and then Fenrys asked. “Is the baby yours?” 

“No, it's not. Why do people keep asking that?” Rowan was getting tired of that insinuation. 

“If you could see the way you’re acting, it’s a valid question.” That statement was provided with a look that demanded further explanation.

 “She’s a friend, in trouble. I needed to do something,” Rowan said, determined not to give away anything more. 

“I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Fenrys added sincerely. “But if she doesn’t want help, and she refuses to tell me anything, there’s not much I can do.”

“I understand.” Rowan crossed his arms, and he didn’t know if it was the adrenaline leaving his body, or lack of sleep, or the turmoil of emotions within him—but his eyes started to burn with tears. He sighed angrily, pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes in an effort to stop them. To his credit, Fenrys said nothing, he just waited. When Rowan was sure no tears would fall he lowered his hands, the bright lights stinging. “She was in the ER, twice in the last month. I knew something was wrong and I could have said something. I could have done something. Instead I ignored all my intuition and let her walk out. This time, she could have been killed. Both of them. All because I didn’t…”

“Hey,” Fenrys approached cautiously, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. “You couldn’t have known. And your friend and her baby are safe now. They’ll be treated and if I know anything about you, you will be pedantic about it and she’ll get the best care possible. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He cringed at his choice of words. “You know what I mean, all you can do now is do your best.”

“Thank you for coming, Fen,” Rowan said.

“I won’t say it was nothing, because it was,” was the reply. “But if she changes her mind, you let me know.”

Rowan nodded. “I will.”

“I’m going home to get some sleep, you should too,” Fenrys said, trying and failing to stifle another yawn. 

Rowan checked his watch. “There’s no point. I’ll just find an on-call room to crash in.”

“Lucky you.” That was Fenrys’ goodbye and he left.

Rowan took a few moments in the silence to compose himself. It was true, he wasn’t due back at the hospital until mid morning, but he didn’t want to leave Aelin here alone. In a matter of hours the morning rounds would start and Rowan wanted to be here in case there were any updates on Aelin’s condition. He left the empty patient room and walked across the hall to her room. All Rowan wanted to do was just let her know he would be here and that if she needed him all she had to do was get him paged. It was a pointless endeavour because when he opened the door he found Aelin fast asleep. 

Rowan should have left, but he lingered just for a moment to take her in. The lights were dim but he could still see her face. In this low light her injuries were hidden and she looked so much like the woman he had known once upon a time. That story was over, and now Rowan felt like he had walked in halfway through the next one that was unfolding. He had so many questions, and it was hard to convince himself that he would ever get any answers. 

The door was closed and he walked away. Aelin had six years worth of secrets, and yet there was only one thing that Rowan truly wanted to know.

~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer// @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​// @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-@depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @s-uppertime​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​ // @renxzs​ //

[muzzlemouths]

Today's warm up drabble comes from my newest brain worms, Starshine Station (radio host au)! Not a full chapter, just something for you to munch on while I continue figuring out what I want to do.

Sun (& Eclipse) Centric // Wordcount: 1960

“Gooooood afternoon, ladies, gents, folks on the fence, and everyone except the lint licker who cut me off on the way into the station today. I sincerely hope that speeding ticket was worth it, honey, cause I just know that Mercedes is already guzzling your pockets by the mile!”

A wuh wuhhh sound effect comes across the speakers, followed quick by a giddy snicker from the announcer himself.

“It's the 20th of March, if you need reminding, and that marks the beautiful start of spring, spring, spring! I don’t know about you, but I love welcoming the season with some good ol’ fashioned deep cleaning. There’s nothing quite like giving the room a good sparkle to your favorite moxie melody, and what better way to kick off the afternoon than with Wanda Jackson's ‘Let's have a Party!’ It’sa classic that’ll see you movin’, groovin’, and having an all around good time while you’re sprucing your place up–”

A silhouette in the office window catches Sun’s attention. His chair whines with the motion of a backward lean to get a proper look at the intern waving him down from the other side of the glass, evidently needing his attention right there and then, despite the clear ON AIR sign flashing red above the door.

Not one to keep anyone waiting, Sun lifts a finger, mouthing a silent ‘one second’, before returning to his mic. “–and you know we're all about having a good time down here at Starshine Station! That’s why our special guest for today is none other than the ace of rock, Montgomery McGator, himself! We’ll hear everything he has to say about the bedazzled band trend here in a moment. For now, turn up those speakers for some Wanda magic!”

The quick press of a button sets his mic to mute and allows him exactly two minutes and nineteen seconds to stretch his legs and see to whatever issue has come up. He opens the door and hardly has his head poked outside of it before the station’s intern (you, evidently) is in front of him, clipboard in hand, with an expression that spells trouble.

“Oh, no,” Sun grimaces, “I know that look, dear. What’s wrong?”

You hate to be the bearer of bad news on any day, but today, you fear it could cost you your job. The issue at hand - something that came up only a moment ago - has your fingers tapping against the wood of the board and your bottom lip tucking between teeth, and you stall for time with a bout of silence, procrastinating the inevitable anger that’s going to come your way as soon as you break the news.

Sun is patient. He always is. But now, even he is peering over his shoulder to check on the remaining time. He turns back with a nervous expression. “Out with it, now,” he urges you, “I haven’t got much time left, flower, so if it isn’t terribly important–”

“Montgomery canceled.” You get it out in one breath, an apologetic whine stirring behind the words, and you’re quick to offer the only excuse you were given before he has a chance to do anything more than balk, “H-He said something about a sick dog, and that he’d try to make it next week, instead, if we could–”

Sun cuts you off with a raised hand and presses the other to his face, exhaling rather loudly, “So not only is he not in the booth next to me, where he’s supposed to have already been for the last half hour, but he isn’t coming in today at all? Did I hear you right?”

You nod, slow and shy.

“Okay.” He says sternly. Another exhale. His shoulders rise with gusto a moment later as his palms come open in a simple ‘what can you do’ gesture, “We’ll just have to find someone else to fill the spot.”

“I–” Another whine escapes you, evidence of your guilt despite the lack of a crime, “I’m really sorry, if I’d known any earlier, trust me, I would have–”

“Please, this isn’t your fault,” another peek inside the booth reveals he has approximately thirty seconds to think of a new plan. When he turns back around it’s with a wide grin and scheming eyes, an expression you don’t enjoy in the slightest - given the way it’s angled right towards you. “However, since it’s technically your responsibility to see that our segments run smoothly–” oh, no, “–why don’t you join me as our special guest instead?”

You shrink in place, gawking, the clipboard hugged tight to your chest, “What? No, no - I couldn’t!”

“Nonsense!” Chirps Sun, already dragging you into the booth by the arm, “I need a guest, you’re right here, it’ll work out just fine!”

“I’m just an intern!”

“And our special guest for the day!” He sits you down in the chair beside his own and hastily parks into his a second after. Ten seconds. His finger goes for the mic button, but you reach for his wrist and catch it just before. He casts you a sideways glance.

“What about Eclipse?” You swallow the heavy lump that’s settled in your throat, “You know they aren’t going to like this, Sun. He and I already aren’t on the best terms.”

Five seconds. “I’ll take care of him,” Sun waves you off with his spare hand, “don’t you worry your little head about it, blossom. Relax for me – and put on a smile! – you’re about to be famous.”

“But–”

His finger lands on the button. “Welcome back, listeners! You’re tuned in to Starshine Station, and that was Let's have a Party!’ from the one and only Wanda Jackson. I’m sure you’re all bustlin’ for a bruising from big man McGator, but it appears his schedule rock and rolled out of our grasp–“ he plays a ba dum tss, then chases it with a sad trombone, ”–but worry not, folks, we’ve got someone special to keep you entertained while we sort things out. Give a big hand to an announcer in training from our very own station!“

Sun adjusts the mic in your direction, gesturing for you to introduce yourself.

Fuck. What are you supposed to do, tell him no? Live on air? “Oh, um, - I’m–” you clear your throat. Telling thousands of viewers your name is harder than chugging dry sand, but you do it, and you do it without making too much of a fool of yourself.

“Our friend here has been with the station for a few months now, already!” Sun tells the audience, “They manage things like a true professional and keep me and Moon from feeling like we’re herding cats with all that needs done in a day, truly, where would we be without them?”

You can’t help it, the heat that crosses your cheeks at his words, and you even manage a shy, bubbling laugh, finding yourself more willing to lean into the mic and reply – that is, until you see a familiar face in the window.

A contrast of blue and yellow, silver cheeks and fifteen pointed rays. There, behind the glass, stood Eclipse.

And he did not look happy.

You’re quick to tap Sun on the shoulder, not daring to point your guest out to him but rather gesturing with a panicked look, and he follows your gaze to see Eclipse - arms crossed, foot tapping - with a look that could kill across his face. Sun doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to the mic.

“You’ll hear more from our esteemed guest here in a moment, but first,” and his eyes flash in Eclipse’s direction, holding there, “let’s hear a Lesley Gore favorite, ‘You don’t own me’,” he meets Eclipse’s scowl with a grin, “then we’ll hear a word from our sponsors. Stay tuned in for more ca-lassic hits!”

A button press has never sounded so deafening. Eclipse leaves the window a moment later.

Sun nods towards the door where, already, you can hear the station manager marching towards the booth, “Come on,” he sighs, “let’s get this over with. He won’t bother us too much, I can only stall with commercials for so long.”

The door slams open before either of you reach it. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Snaps Eclipse, “Our fans are expecting Montgomery McGator, and you think to bring a rookie on air?”

“I–”

“Monty canceled,” Sun interrupts before the apology is even halfway out, “nothing we could do about it, regretfully. Unless you magically have one of the other Glamrocks on speed-dial.”

The look Eclipse gives you both makes you shrink, and you actively fight the urge to hide behind Sun.

His hand twitches. Once, twice. Then it settles at his hip. “That doesn’t mean you get to bring just anyone in,” he scolds, “we have a reputation to keep, if you kindly remember, and I won’t have it tarnished because you see fit to put an intern on air. What type of calls are you expecting from this interview - inquisitions on how to properly staple papers together?”

You bury the hint of offense deep, deep down, and stomp on the pile for good measure, doing your best not to remind the guy who paid your bills what all you did to keep the station running.

Luckily, Sun doesn’t miss a beat. He’s at your defense long before you have a chance to argue. “They do much more than that,” he corrects with a tut, “you ought to know, it’s you who orders them around like a pack mule, isn’t it?”

Eclipse seethes, steam rising faintly from his cheeks, “I won’t apologize for keeping them busy,” he says, “there’s work that needs done - work that doesn’t involve playing in the sound booth - and I won’t be made the enemy for demanding they do their job.” He stares Sun down, looking stern. Sun holds his gaze without even a blink. Finally, Eclipse sighs and deflates at the shoulders, “They can stay for the interview,” he says “but only because I don’t want you falling through on two promised segments in a row.”

Happy with his win, Sun beams from ear to ear and slaps you between the shoulders, an action that nearly has you stumbling straight into the boss himself.

“But–” Eclipse continues, and he angles himself to look you dead in the eyes, “if you ever think about bringing them in without my permission again, I’ll see to it that both of you are out of a job by evening. Capiche?”

“Of course, of course,” Sun waves a hand, “this is a one-time thing, swear on my soul. A special occasion. Won’t happen again!”

You have no idea how he can be so lax in the face of someone like Eclipse, but if it means getting you off the hook, you aren’t complaining. Even if it meant having to go through with an interview that you are wholly unprepared for.

Either way, Eclipse seems to buy it.

“Mhm,” is all he initially has to say, “you’re back on in twelve. Better make it worthwhile.”

Sun follows him halfway out the door, “It’ll be unforgettable!” He shouts down the hall.

Yeah, unforgettable is what you’re afraid of.

Despite your fears you don’t stop Sun from pulling you back into the chair, and not a moment too soon. The last advertisement ends, and he returns to the crowd as if nothing had ever happened, queueing the next few songs and making small talk as he reintroduces you.

When it comes time to answer questions you’re all but sweating through your company sweatshirt, but his smile is there and it warms you to the core, and you find the words come a little easier, this time. Sun hits the dial.

“Let’s take our first caller.”

[asa-writes]

Aphrodite of Old Hall - 07

"The Ton dissipates"

Anthony Bridgerton x F!OC / Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC 18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: alcohol and smut if you squint

It hadn't stopped raining for over two days now and to add to insult, there was a beastly wind blowing through the grimy London streets. Elisabeth sat in front of the fireplace and read a book. It wasn't anything that interested her - Old Hall's libraries seemed only to contain religious and botanical books, much to her chagrin - so she looked up at every little sound, hoping someone would come in and talk to her. As always, her mind was all over the place. The sounds Anthony had made yesterday had turned everything inside of her into a hot, trembling jelly. Sweat dripping down his muscular chest and his strong arms holding her, roughly caressing her... She felt like a lovesick puppy. He was supposed to be the lovesick puppy, not her!

Putting the book down, she wandered over to her secretaire, out of which she pulled some of George's letters. At least he always knew right from wrong, maybe his words would bring her to her senses... Lifting the paper up to her lips, she tried smelling the perfume he had spritzed on it, but alas, it had faded away long ago. Like him, she thought and shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. He would've laughed at her sentimentality. Hearing gentle knocks on the door, she turned around to see a footman holding a silver tablet with a single red rose and a letter. "Milady, hand-delivered by Lord Anthony Bridgerton. He is waiting in the entrance hall." Damn. God damn that man, always coming to her when she thought of him.

She walked over to the footman and took the gifts. "Thank you. You may escort him up here." He went as quickly as he came, leaving her alone again, the wind howling around her sitting room, which Stephane had gracefully given her. Unclipping her pince-nez and straightening the front of her dress, she gave herself a small, reassuring smile and sat down on her settee, pulling her skirts in a way that looked more glamorous. The door opened and a wet, tousled Anthony walked in. "Good morning, Elisabeth, I hope I'm not disturbing you." Grinning, he walked up to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Elisabeth pushed him towards the chair next to the fire, shaking herself playfully like a wet dog. "Good morning to you too, you wet mop. Did you seriously just walk here in this weather? I'm surprised that you haven't been blown away."

Rolling his eyes, he grinned. "I have, just yesterday evening..." She shook her head, blushing. After a few silent seconds he pointed at her decanter of Schnapps. "That is not water, is it? I would strongly discourage you from drinking it. I wouldn't want you to get sick." Elisabeth grinned. "You believe me to be so foolish? Come, try a bit." Pouring him a short glass, she gracefully presented it to him. "Prost!", She said, winked at him and finished her own. Clearing his throat, he raised his eyebrows. "That was... Stronger than I expected." Giggling, she poured herself another one. "You'll get used to it. At least I hope you will - my cook prepares a mean schnapps pudding, which almost dissolves, for it is so drenched."

Anthony just shook his head and took off his jacket, trying to get it to dry in front of the fire. "Have you read my letter yet?", He asked rather impatiently. Sighing, Elisabeth shook her head. "Why-ever should I? You are here with me, you could just tell me!" Rolling his eyes, he gallantly offered to open it for her. "Gestures, not words, that's what you said, didn't you?" She nodded. "Well, then turn away please." He looked at her quizzically. "I wrote it for you, no need to hide anything from me." Bashfully looking down, she retrieved her pince-nez from her bedazzled black reticule. "I... I can't see well..." Damning his wet clothes, he stood up and sat next to her, carefully putting the ridiculously hideous things on her face. "There. No need to be ashamed, my dear. As long as you can see me without them..."

She looked up at him, her eyes bigger than teacups. He gently broke the wax seal and opened it for her, trying his hardest not to look at her. By god, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and known, but there was no way she would keep those if they were to be married. Surely, he could find someone to make a more agreeable pair for her. Then again, it didn't really matter that much to him. She knew, hopefully, what was best for her. "There you go, dearest."

"Unto my dearest Lady Elisabeth, Seeing as the majority of the Ton had scrambled away to their country estates, (there shall be no end in sight with this weather) I have decided to take my family and go to mine as well. May I take the liberty of inviting you to come with us? I had a most interesting talk with Benedict, who has told me that the die had been cast and that he shall not be courting you anymore. As soon as the weather will end, we will certainly return again, for Eloise has yet to find herself a suitor. Yours ever lovingly, longingly and adoringly, Lord Anthony Bridgerton P.S. Oh, might I add that your bedroom has a secret passage to mine that nobody knows of?"

It was most fascinating to watch her read; her eyes darted from one side to the other - she read faster than anyone else he had known. She gasped, blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. Quickly taking off her pince-nez before looking up at him, she beamed, her cheeks reddening gently. "I must thank you... You... you love me! When are we leaving? Are you sure that your family is alright with me coming with you? However might I repay you?" Anthony chuckled and kissed her. Her lips still tasted of (what he presumed to be cherry) schnapps. She looked so fascinatingly beautiful when she tripped over her own words, looking up at him like her life depended on it. Like yesterday...

"One after the other, Ellie. No need to thank me, my love. Yes, I love you... And have to damn myself for not telling you yesterday. We could leave now, if you would want us to, I am completely at your will. I am the family's head so no, they wouldn't mind at all. Do you even need to ask me about the repayment?", He said, whispering seductively at the end. Glancing at the windows, she quickly straddled him and took his face into her soft, gloveless hands. It took a lot of control to not just pick her up and lift her skirts... She did know how to drive him wild. "Anthony...", She whispered, caressing his cheek, "I'd be delighted. I'll tell my servants to prepare a suitcase. Until it is ready, I shall like to come with you to your house, so we could all leave together..."

He slid his hand along her thigh, looking at her face faltering as a look of pleasure had rolled over her. "Really? Looks like you enjoy this a lot more..." Stopping just short of her mons pubis, she took a sharp breath, quickly standing up and flattening her dress. With a sly grin, she shrugged. "We do have a long carriage ride in front of us and, not to mention, the connected bedrooms. Now, as I've said, would you like to escort me to your home?" In his mind, he would've very much liked to just do her on the floor, but having her teasing him was a thousand times better. Standing up and putting on his rather uncomfortably damp coat, he quickly walked up to her and smacked her beautifully plump buttocks. "Then that is what I'll do, dearest. Just you wait..."

[eggyboyoart]

LMK MK Headcanons

TRANSGENDER

He likes cherries in the same way people like purple

Cherry flavoured lipbalm, cherry flavoured juice/tea, cherry print boxers-

I acc just think hes an avid fruit eater AHEM RED SON AHH-

Def has a fruit bowl in his apartment

Hes also obsessed with anything that smells vanilla

Hes so

Just

Everything

He struggles with saving/spending money

especially since his friends are Mei and Red Son-

He takes after Wukong bc hes a HOARDER

He has so many useless trinkets stashed away EVERYWHERE

Like, you sit down on his couch and now you have a mini bedazzled Eiffel Tower up your ass (I have one of those, its hot pink with rhinestones)

He may be a monkey but HE HAS CROW BRAIN

He sees shiny, he must have shiny

ALSO, if friends see shiny, he must get it for them

CHRONIC PEOPLE PLEASER AND OVERSHARE-ER

He also has a massive glasses collection, but like; fashion glasses

Like, heart shaped ones, cherry shaped ones, those sick fire shaped ones

Speaking of the fire shaped glasses, they match with Red Son and Mei’s pairs

MK’s is green, Red Son’s is yellow and Mei’s is pink

MK’s scent is vanilla, parchment and spices

MK has at least had a little puppy crush on Red Son at some point

Probably early on in their ‘enemies-to-friends’ era

Like, when MK first saw Red Son, he was def like ‘…oh’

DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN??

But fr tho, MK gets crushes SO EASY

Like, he could sneeze and someone could just be like ‘oh, bless you’ and MK responds ‘marry me PLEASE’

Bro really do be falling for basic human decency

Unfortunately for MK, a lot of his previous relationships have NOT been great

I hc hes had at least 2 previous partners and at least ONE of those bitches was a piece of shit

Mei quickly shut it down tho

We stan Mei - the founder of the MK protection squad

MK also has a really hard time accepting gifts or help (as evidenced in the show im pretty sure)

Pigsy will cook dinner sometimes and brings it over to MK’s place and it’s a battle to get MK to take it

Also Pigsy is def #1 dad

Like, cooks MK food, makes sure MK cleans his house - we stan

MK can’t cook to save his life and he is painfully aware of it

If you held a gun to MK’s head and said ‘make toast’, MK should just shoot himself

When he first started working at Pigsy’s, he started off as a kitchen hand

That was until there were numerous reviews of food poisoning :D

But, Pigsy noticed MK was pretty fast and moved around pretty quickly so thus MK THE DELIVERY BOY WAS BORN

The delivery truck is MK’s actual car and is also MK’s baby

He LOVES that thing like it was his own child

He gets genuinely sad whenever it breaks down or starts having problems and acts like its dying

Buuuuuut hes also too cheap to get it fixed so he says ‘its fine’ while it is actively sparking and smoking