#no baby that’s your best friend

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

So I’m reading that “friendly rivalry” short story

[jkvjimin]

TAEHYUNG + 🌈 colors (cr. namuspromised, jung-kook)

happy birthday, kelli! @heybaetae 💕

[softpascalito]

I Baby, I'm Your National Anthem I 2003!DBF!Joel Miller I

Summary: You are back from college for the summer and your family happens to throw the annual Fourth of July Barbecue for your street. Your next-door neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller is invited—and you decide to wear a bold outfit. It definitely catches his attention.

Pairing: 2003!DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 3.3k Tags: Explicit, Smut, Age Difference, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak, Fourth of July, DBF!Joel, Fingering, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Pool Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk, Biting, Teasing, Making Out, Outdoor Sex, Alcohol (like two beers)

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: i saw one (1) tiktok with this fucking glorious fourth of july outfit and somehow this happened. consider this fanfic to be my application to be invited to your 4th of july party next year (yes, you specifically). enjoy the filth <3 (also highly recommend listening to national anthem by lana while reading!)

The sound of the sprinklers rotating on the lawn in front of your window and the slamming of a truck door alerted you that your father was back with the last minute groceries. You quickly got up, heading out to the driveway to help carry the brown bags.

“Take those first, it’s ice cream for the kids. Don’t want it melting,” he advised as he busied himself with grabbing the cooler off the truck bed, disappearing towards the garden, the fence running along it already decorated with red, white and blue, matching the tablecloths and flags hung from the large tree in your backyard to the porch.

You had just got back from college for the summer and had been more than ready to enjoy your time off as you usually did, by lounging in the sun behind your house or going for a swim in the neighbor’s pool. The honeymoon phase of holidays, before they turned into the unavoidable boredom that followed once all reunions had been completed and, at the same time, reminded you precisely why you’d gotten out of the small neighborhood in Austin at your first chance.

The bag you’d brought home was still on the floor in your room, barely half unpacked. Sitting on top of it was the outfit you had picked out weeks ago—at the precise moment your father had called to let you know it was your family's turn to host your street's traditional barbecue on the Fourth of July.

A blue and white checkered bikini, the bottoms made of much less fabric than you’d ever seen sold in Austin. A pair of shorts that seemed barely bigger, cut low enough to give a peak of the set below—and a crop top, the words ‘Miss America’ splayed across your chest in curved, red letters, complete with two red bows attached to the straps. You were certain that, if your father still had a say in your clothing choices, this would not go—and that was precisely why it was perfect. If your father hated it, so would his best friend.

Joel Miller had been little more than your kind next-door neighbor for years—until you’d come back from college for your first break. Suddenly, you questioned how for years you’d been able to miss the way his shirt strained over his broad shoulders or the small grunts that left him when he was tinkering with his truck in the driveway.

You ignored your father’s muttered comments about your outfit as you returned to the kitchen a few minutes later and busied yourself with the last few preparations.

“It’s what all the girls at college wear.” He shook his head but stayed quiet.

Joel and Sarah arrived a little later than the other guests, greeting your father as they stepped into the backyard and you caught something about a mess-up at the construction site as the two men embraced. You turned your attention towards Sarah, who excitedly asked your opinion about her new sneakers and didn’t run off to join the other kids playing football at the far end of the backyard until you reassured her that they were indeed very cool, throwing in a comment about how you’d seen someone at University wear them—making her positively beam.

You turned towards the house just in time to see Joel’s eyes land on you. Oh boy.

His gaze trailed down your body, tracing your curves, no doubt taking in the shape of your body. It took him a few moments to snap out of it, shifting as his gaze returned to your face before he hesitantly crossed the space between you. The polite, strained expression on his face told you exactly how hard he was trying to keep his eyes from wandering.

“Back from college then?” he asked, clearly keeping the conversation light. Though you did like to think, unlike many others, that he actually wanted to know. That he cared.

“For the summer,” you responded, smiling up at him innocently, still aware of his eyes on you.

“How d’you like it?” Joel placed a hand on his hip, looking at you expectantly.

“It's good. A little exhausting sometimes. Lots of studying.” You grinned as you saw him raise a brow.

“Studying, eh?” There was something twinkling in his eyes, a certain sense of mischief you hadn't seen in him before. “That what all the kids do up there these days?”

“That and a few parties,” you admitted with a small smirk. “You know, finding the balance of life. But college boys are—”

Both your heads flew around as you heard your dad call your name and for a second, your heart felt like it stopped. You'd wanted to tease Joel by talking about college boys, not reveal your love life to your father. But clearly, he hadn't heard. “Get Joel a beer, will you?”

Joel opened his mouth—but then he shook his head. His voice sounded strained as he spoke. “Beer sounds good.”

You led him towards the cooler, reaching down to grab two bottles, handing one to him. A bemused smile played around his lips as he nodded towards the bottle still clutched in your hand. “Your old man letting you sneak beers?”

“He doesn't have to,” you said with a satisfied smirk, grabbing the bottle opener and handing it to him. “Turned twenty-one this spring.”

You could see Joel's hand shaking slightly as he opened his beer before motioning for you to give him yours and doing the same for you. “Quite the gentleman,” you mumbled, taking in the way his green flannel sat a bit too tight around his broad chest.

“You don't know half of it.”

During the afternoon, the light blue sky seemed to be celebrating the holiday as much as the people below it. The barbecue was fired up by your father, the other fathers gathering around as he explained the new, improved features, making you roll your eyes. You drifted back and forth between the adults and the children, joining the latter for a few rounds of football until the sun began to set.

Joel kept his distance and, with a slightly heavy heart, you followed his lead. He was rather quiet but still, you could see his eyes flying towards you occasionally. You began to wonder if you had miscalculated.

When the salad bowl ran low for the second time, you volunteered yourself to head inside to refill it. You had barely placed it on the kitchen counter when you felt him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the dark wood. His eyes trailed down your form more slowly than before, leaving no doubt in your mind that the outfit had fulfilled its purpose of getting his attention.

“Quite a party.” His gaze was still not meeting yours, lingering on your chest.

“Wait until they bring out the fireworks. My dad bought enough to light up the whole street.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

Joel shook his head, a tiny smile forming on his face as he stepped forward. “Ain’t what I meant.” His hand brushed over your thigh and you sent an anxious glimpse out the window, making sure that you weren't in anyone's line of sight.

“It's a pretty bikini,” Joel mumbled, lowering his voice. His thumb was brushing over the checkered fabric where it peeked out from under your shorts. “Shame you aren't taking a swim in it.”

An involuntary breath left your throat as you felt his free hand coming up to your face, nudging your chin up slightly. You couldn't remember ever being so close to him, your brain going into overdrive as it tried to figure out which part of his face to commit to memory first. Desire burned in your core brighter than ever and between that and the beer possibly clouding your judgment, you bit your lip, sending the man in front of you a shy smile and yet abandoning all care. You'd be back to college in a few weeks. If this went wrong, you'd never have to speak to him again.

“Is that an offer?”

“Damn sure is, darling,” Joel mused, his hand squeezing your hip and you let out a small breath of relief.

You thanked all your lucky stars for the architect who had built your house some 50 years ago—and had clearly taken into account that you would one day need to sneak out the back door with your dads best friend—preferably without being seen. It faced towards the high fence that separated your yard from the Miller’s, making it feel almost too easy for the two of you to sneak off.

You hadn’t even reached the pool when you dropped your shirt and pants to the floor, making Joel whistle lowly behind you. “I was right. It is a fucking pretty bikini.” You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, his eyes still raking over your body as his clothes joined yours on the floor, leaving him in only his boxers.

You’d seen him shirtless a few times. When you'd brought over something you had borrowed and he was in the pool or the one time you'd been over to help Sarah with some homework and he'd just gotten out of the shower, a beige towel wrapped around his waist. You’d felt like some fucking creep when you had recalled the sight of his naked chest, and the trail of hair leading further down, at night and slipped a hand between your own thighs, thinking that you stood no chance with the man who was frequently whispered about by the single ladies of the neighbourhood, despite rarely showing interest in them.

You lowered yourself into the water and felt it ripple around you as Joel followed. The next moment, he was beside you, pushing you towards the other edge of the pool, strong arms caging you in on either side. You could still hear the party going on behind the fence, voices and music, the smell of barbecue drifting through the air. And a few lights—tiny holes in the fence allowing them to travel through, the warm glow reflecting on the surface of the pool.

Joel growled as he nipped at your skin, hard enough that you already knew it'd leave marks. Good.

“Can't let you go back to college without something to remind you of me,” he muttered and you sucked in a breath in response, the words going straight to your core. His teeth scraped over the notch between your collarbones and you felt a moan begin to travel up your throat. Before it could escape however, Joel's hand clasped firmly over your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose as your eyes widened slightly.

“Don't want your dad hearing us, do you?” Joel muttered and indeed you could hear the voice of your father booming through the night air as he delivered some punchline to a no doubt stupid joke. You shook your head softly and that seemed to satisfy Joel because the next moment, his hand left your mouth and began to slide down your body, trailing over it the same way his eyes had earlier tonight. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his index finger circle drawing shapes on your hip before slipping under your bikini, brushing past your clit and settling between your folds.

“Hard to tell in here but feels like you’re wet for me,” Joel muttered with a grin and you bit your lip, voice hoarse as you tried to keep quiet.

“Took you long enough to notice,” you teased—and the reaction was immediate. He pushed you further against the side of the pool, trapping you with his broad body.

“Watch it.” His index finger moved upwards—and the next moment, your walls were clenching around it, already begging for more. You felt a second finger drawing large circles around your clit again—when a noise on the other side of the fence made both of you pause, heads swiveling around just in time to see a football land on the lawn.

He cursed under his breath, pushing himself off you and dragging you to the end of the pool least visibly from the house. The deck was raised high enough above the water that if you squeezed yourself against the wall, you just may not be seen—especially in the dark. Once he had pushed you into the corner, he was about to follow when your eyes widened. “Joel, the clothes,” you whispered in a panicked voice.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and crossed the pool in a few strokes, climbing back onto the porch. You watched, holding your breath, as he looked around, finally locating two towels and throwing one over the mixed pile of clothes and wrapping the other around his waist. No second too late, because the next moment one of the men who had marveled at your dads new barbecue earlier strode over the lawn. “Miller, hey! What’re you doing out here?”

Even in the water, you felt your knees go weak. Joel was dripping wet, his cheeks flushed—your only hope was that the other man was either too drunk or too stupid to realize what was happening.

“Heard something thud against the wall.” You heard Joel respond. “Was just taking a shower, Tony spilled his beer all over my shirt earlier.”

The other man let out a small laugh. “Yeah, he’s wasted.” You couldn't see him from where you were standing but you heard him pick up the ball as an idea popped into your head. You shifted slightly, knowing your movement would be visible to Joel, who was still in your sight—and after a moment, you held up your bikini bottoms, smiling innocently. Joel's eyes flickered towards you for a split second—and even in the dark you could see his body tense, adjusting the towel around his waist as the veins on his neck bulged with restraint.

Footsteps told you the other man was leaving, until they paused again. His voice rang through the yard once more. To your horror, it was your name that filled the air. “Do you know where she went? Her father was looking for her I think.”

Joel's face twitched before he forced himself to smile. “No clue. Maybe calling a secret college boyfriend.”

He waited until the man's laughter had drifted away and joined with the noises of the party again before he dropped the towel, his cock straining at the fabric of his boxers.

As soon as he was back in the pool, he was upon you, cowering over you with a hard expression on his face, snatching the small piece of fabric from your hand. “Think it’s fucking funny?” He muttered, his eyes flying over your face. 

The alcohol was definitely having an effect on you because you grinned, nodding weakly. “A little bit.”

Joel actually fucking growled at that.

He made short work of your bikini top, yanking it off to gather your breasts in his large hands, squeezing slightly. “That fucking mouth of yours, darling.”

“Should shut me up,” you muttered back and his eyes briefly searched yours before his mouth was on yours. Neither of you were gentle, much too impatient for soft kisses. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his teeth grazed over your lip and you could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling right from his throat into yours.

When he broke the kiss, you whined in protest, wrapping your own arms around him to pull him closer, making him groan as his still covered cock brushed against your stomach. “Goddamn, baby, you gonna let me fuck you?”

Joel didn't even flinch when you softly bit down on his earlobe. “Like you have to ask, Miller.”

His last name seemed to do as much to him as it did to you because his hands briefly left your sides to yank his boxers down, throwing them carelessly onto the lawn behind you. “Get your ass up here,” he commanded as he hoisted you up and you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his cock nudge at your entrance.

Joel swallowed and you could see him struggling to restrain himself. “Do you want me to go and get-”

“Got it covered,” you said impatiently before he could even finish the sentence.

“You sure?” He asked again and you nodded impatiently. And then he was finally pushing his hips upwards, his cockhead parting your lips, requesting entrance. You let your body fall into his rhythm, sinking down on him, forcing a whimper from your throat.

You barely heard the shuffling behind the fence and the voices getting more muted as the party seemed to be moved towards the street, further away from you.

“It ain’t your first time, is it, sweetheart?” Joel suddenly piped up, watching your expression carefully and you could distinctly hear the note of concern in his voice. But you shook your head.

“Told you,” you breathed out. “College boys.”

“This gonna be better than any damn college boy,” Joel mumbled, a grunt leaving his throat as he began to thrust up into you properly, driving any worry out of your mind.

“You knew what you were doing to me tonight?” He muttered, causing you to shake your head despite the fact that you knew exactly, even planned, to do it to him. You wanted to give a snarky response, something smart, but you could barely think straight with his cock nestled so deep inside of you.

“Made me hard all throughout dinner, thinking about all the things i could do with you,” Joel answered his own question before changing his angle slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Fuck, doing so good for me, darling.”

“Joel—” you choked out, feeling the orgasm that had been lingering for what felt like forever now approaching rapidly. “Want you to come inside, please—”

His eyes darkened as he nodded. And then, suddenly a sparkling light reflected in his eyes—followed by a loud bang far above you. The fireworks had started.

It only took a few more thrusts and Joel's finger returning to your clit to send you rushing towards your orgasm, your fingernails scratching over his back so hard that you were certain you were not going to be the only one with something to remember tomorrow.

“Come on,” Joel edged you on. “Show me how pretty you look coming on my cock, baby.”

And you did, groaning as your body tensed, the feeling inside your stomach so similar to the exploding fireworks above, with Joel following suit, obeying your wish and spilling himself deep inside of you as you clung on to him, so content to finally, finally carry him so deep inside, the thought traveling right to your core again as he gathered you in his arms, both of you tilting your heads back enough to watch the sky above sparkle in different colors.

“Happy fourth, Joel.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Happy fucking fourth, darling.”

He gathered the clothes in his arms, whispering promises and praise as he led you up the stairs to his bathroom, having insisted to at least get you clean before letting you sneak back home. His hands brushed over your naked skin, causing you to raise a brow. “I thought we were gonna take a shower?” “Oh, I'm not nearly done with you,” Joel muttered in your ear, causing you to smirk. You reached for your clothes but Joel only gave a small tut. “You’ll get them back. Just not—” He raised the checkered bikini bottom. “This. I’m keeping that.”

thank you for reading! every time you leave a comment, a firework explodes over joel miller fucking in a pool btw :)

[catrasfreckles]

*wakes up*

I wonder how Pyrrha feels about her dead lover's dead daughter having the same name as her dead best friend

*goes back to sleep*

[ivypond11]

it's been a week and i still haven't recovered </3 so i did a little sketch with this scene between normal and scary because it fucked me up and i need more moments of them comforting and caring for each other

[deathnguts]

Peak Barty and the skittles characterization in au’s is having the rest of the skittles be cryptids or something adjacent and him being the disturbed teen average human that stumbled upon them and was quickly accepted as one of their own because if you really think about it that’s what happened at hogwarts too

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I said I wasn't going to get started on the topic of Aveline ruining Carver's chances with the guard but I lied okay, it's Carver Hawke defense hours.

Here's the thing; it doesn't matter if you believe Carver was or wasn't fit for the guard. That's a different debate that I'll get to. What matters is Aveline's in no position to tell the guard not to accept his application. Why does she think that's her right to judge whether or not he's fit?

Carver should've had the chance to prove himself one way or another. If it turns out he's not a good fit, then let him fail. Let him learn from it.

"Oh but failure could mean lost lives-"

Aveline doesn't get to talk shit about failure and the people. Plenty have died on her watch yet she still believes she's a good guard and Guard-Captain.

"maybe Aveline's protecting him, Carver could die while on patrol-"

Carver could die working in the Bone Pit, or serving as a templar, or when he's running around with Hawke. Carver could trip and fall down a set of stairs and die. In fact, he can die in the Deep Roads, somewhere he wouldn't have to go if the Hawke's weren't desperate.

Either Carver fails as a guard, or more likely, he succeeds and proves himself worthy of it.

But let's be real, Carver probably kept getting rejected due to being a Fereldan with a past of smuggling/mercenary work and Aveline only reaffirmed the decision, either because they asked her what she thought or she stuck her nose in unprompted.

But what irritates me is that she admits to telling them not to accept his application, and then has the balls to call Carver too proud to take up a trade or find another line of work.

Carver tells her, "And who would take on a Fereldan apprentice? Maybe in another year I could work my way up to pissboy." He has a good point here. Aside from the guard, the only other place Carver could work and use his skillset is with the Templars. Or go back to mercenary/smuggling work.

And Aveline doesn't even have a real answer for him. No suggestions, no encouragement, nothing. Just "Fine, let's crawl down some holes. Good bloody luck for your sake."

Also, if you do the Mark of the Assassin DLC in Act 1-

Aveline: You should see if any of the noblemen are looking for new men-at-arms. Carver: Are you trying to get rid of me? Aveline: It's a role with some autonomy. A good fit with your training and... tendencies. Carver: After serving King Cailan? You want me to suffer some poncy git who needs two servants to wipe his own ass? I'll find my own way, thanks. Aveline: I wish you would.

You wish he would?? Aveline, he was trying to find his way into the guard, a position he'd make a good fit for, and you helped deny him of it because YOU didn't think he would be good enough, I just-

If I haven't made it clear yet, I firmly believe that Carver would've made a great guard. He wants to help people, to be a protector. He's loyal, and despite what Aveline claims, he can follow orders and take his duty seriously. We see him do incredibly well with the Grey Wardens, after all. If he were a guard, he wouldn't have to go down into the Deep Roads with Hawke, and I think he would've been okay with that! He's so hurt and bitter when you leave him behind because that effectively tells him, "I don't need you." Carver's spent the whole first act telling you he wants to go on the expedition aka that he wants to be needed.

But if he were a guard, he would be needed elsewhere. He'd be in training as a recruit. He'd look after Leandra while you go. He wouldn't be backed into a corner with no income and only the templars left as his chance at forging his own path and providing for his family.

He doesn't get that opportunity, though.

By the way, if he becomes a warden, you can get this banter:

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

This banter makes me want to scream.

Aveline's just... she's so insistent that she's right. She's someone who will double down rather than entertain the idea that she's wrong and it's not just with Carver and the guard, it's with everything. The "my beef with Aveline" list gets longer and longer every time I replay da2, I swear.

Say what you will about Carver, whether you think he would've been a good fit or if Aveline's right and it wasn't for him, he was denied a chance and it cost him so much in the end. He either dies, or he joins the templars where he deals with Chantry's bullshit trying to brainwash him with "mages aren't people" and "magic is a cancer in this world", or he's infected with the blight and becomes a Grey Warden, forced to serve the rest of his life fighting darkspawn, tormented by voices and nightmares.

I will never not be bitter about this.

[belleandsaintsebastian]

i love lane she is my baby so. instead in my mind lane escapes stars hollow to live in nyc on her own at nineteen and the city is huge and intimidating and she has to share an apartment with like three guys but its okay because she has her own room and there's this shelf right in the middle of her wall and she's got all of her CDs and records spilling out right there in the open and she's got posters of nico and bjorke and bowie and fiona apple scattered around her walls and she works in like a music shop during the day and bartends at night and rory comes to stay with her sometimes and they spend hours sitting in parks and talking even when its really cold and rory doesn't say anything when lane tenses up sometimes and lane doesn't say anything when rory looks out beyond her like she's waiting for someone. and then she becomes the drummer in a punk band and they get to play in CBGB and then they're invited to go on tour and they're playing in venues all across the country and lane's laughing again and she's talking to people and she's kissing girls. and then one night she's playing out in California and out in the crowd she spots someone familiar and he's smiling at her and she's smiling back and after he asks her if she'd like a drink and she says yes. and maybe it'll go somewhere maybe it won't but there's hope in the air and it's all going to be okay because she's got purple in her hair and she can talk as loudly as she wants.

[vertexline]

Shovel is the best character in the entire game, and I'll die on that hill <3

[petrovna-zamo]

[allpromarlo]

i’m actually really glad that yuji empathized with megumi’s depressive state instead of just outright telling him to live tbh. it lets megumi keep his agency as opposed to the damsel in distress narrative that some people were pushing, and subverts expectations on the whole 'start by saving me itadori' thing in general

[freyadragonlord]

How do I explain how married Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunje are in the post-epilogue Side Stories without sounding like I am exaggerating or making things up...

[babygirlwolverine]

raise your hand if cas is your best friend

[briar-oses]

**sort of a throwback this time lol. tang bo also adopted seo-ah already

ever since they rescued that small child from that dilapidated hut one fateful day, tang bo noticed chung myung's distant behaviour. he knows of chung myung's already lacking social life in his sect, something the sword saint has no control of.

and really, no one is as crazy as he is, befriending the sword saint all on his own.

granted, chung myung isn't someone to initiate social interactions unless necessary, being surprisingly introverted. he would be perfectly content to stand somewhere and wait for tang bo whenever he had something to do during their travels, preferrably somewhere with less crowd or something close to a shop that sells alcohol. the people who had the pleasure of getting the brunt of his ire most likely started the fight first...

... most of the time.

tang bo knew that it wouldn't end well for him if he'd force his hyung-nim to bond with the child but this little girl would be a big part of his life, and he wanted to atleast have his hyung love her as much as he does.

in the distance, chung myung is seen talking with his jangmun sahyung, completely in his element. tang bo likes that look on him, completely engaged in the conversation and being listened to in return. the baby on his lap coos and tang bo turns his attention to her.

“Hm? What was that?”

the baby reaches to the direction of where chung myung is standing, making adorable sounds. tang bo chuckles. his daughter is too cute.

“You like hyung, huh? Me too, little lady”, he says, to the baby, all giggly. the baby giggling at him giggling. perhaps tang bo finds a semblance of kinship with his daughter, as she's also completely enamored with the figure of his Taoist hyung.

tang bo adjusts his hold on his daughter, adjusting her seat on his lap so that she's facing chung myung in the distance. the other disciples in mount hua have no problem interacting with the baby, always finding time to visit despite their training.

Perhaps we need to take this one step at a time...

***

“Huh?”

chung myung is faced with a smiling tang bo, holding out his small daughter to him in hopes to—

“I want you to hold her, hyung”

the sword saint stares at his companion with narrowed eyes. “Are you crazy, you bastard?”

“Don't call me names in front of my daughter!”

chung myung scoffs. it's been almost a month since tang bo took in the child as his own. having been involved in her rescue, chung myung initially thought that after they nursed her back to health, they would find a family to take care of her as they're both respective elders of their sect.

as it turns out, tang bo's fondness for children extended to those outside his family. and being the one who mostly took care of the baby girl, the dark saint quickly became attached.

“She's not my kid, why would I do that.”

tang bo huffs, annoyed. “Hyung! just do it, will you? for me?”, he pleads.

“Why would I do that for you?”

tang bo lets out a frustrated sound, considering whether it'd be too early for his daughter to witness acts of violence this early on in her life. “Just do it!”

“... Do you not want her anymore?”

tang bo shields his daughter away from the bastard Taoist, fuming. he has the gall to look disappointed, his hyung! “Ah!! Don't say things like that in front of her!”, he yells, covering his daughter's ears as he looks at her.

“Don't listen to him, okay sweet one?”, says tang bo, completely ignoring chung myung's 'So it's okay to say it if it's behind her back?'

the little girl merely laughs cutely, clearly not understanding what is happening.

chung myung huffs. it wasn't unusual for tang bo to ask things of him. there were times whenever they were out together that tang bo would end up being occupied with whatever he's working on, leaving him left alone wandering the tang estate. the tang family was extra welcoming whenever it was those days.

but this?

“.. Are you crazy?”

“Stop asking me that, hyung..”

tang bo was well-aware of his position in the sect. chung myung was not someone whom people in his own sect can casually approach, only with the exception of chung mun, chung jin, and a handful of other elders. not that it mattered to him, but the fact remains that this crazy guy still wants him to hold a child of all things.. he's not exactly child-friendly.

plus he wouldn't know how.

“Hyung”, tang bo calls, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Just hold her, please?”

chung myung stares. “Why?”

the other sighs. “I've thought about this for a while already....”

“You're actually thinking for once?”

“...”

“...”

tang bo clears his throat, adjusting his grip on his ever fussy daughter. “Like I said, I've thought about this for quite a while already and I figured that I could trust her with you when I'm out doing business.”

“Can't you just bring her?”

tang bo shrugs. “On some occasions, maybe. But what if it's dangerous?”

chung myung raises an eyebrow. “And you think I'll be here when you're out there fighting?”

“It's not that I'll die that easily..” tang bo sighs. “It's just in case, hyung. Here, I'll help you”, he says, holding out his bright-eyed daughter to the hesitant sword saint.

chung myung stares at the held out baby girl with a slightly scrunched up look on his face, highly uncomfortable with... whatever. he holds out his arms and carefully holds the small girl by her sides, with a few distance between himself and the little girl he's holding.

tang bo holds the urge to laugh at his hyung's awkwardness. it's endearing to see him try so hard. albeit reluctant, it was unusual to see a prodigy struggle at something. “Here, hyung. Let me help”, he says, walking closer to the sword saint.

“You have to support her head and body”, tang bo says, maneuvering chung myung's arms into the proper position, making sure that the baby is not hurt or uncomfortable.

((so sorry for the horrible sketch.. i did it in the middle of class <33

tang bo stares at the scene in front of him. the plum blossom sword saint awkwardly holding his daughter, looking more constipated than comfortable. chung myung is clearly out of his own comfort zone. the gentle but secure hold, the way he diligently follows tang bo's instructions in holding the small girl.

Is this what they said about seeing new sides to people when they become parents?

..

...

Huh?

the thought halts tang bo. parents? parenthood? wait wasn't he the parent here? why is he thinking about his hyung being a parent when he was just—

tang bo's entire face flushes red from the realization. did he really just— why did he even—

“Yah! What are you thinking so hard about? She's waking up! Take her!”, chung myung exclaims, snapping him out of his thoughts. his hyung is clearly not knowing comfortable with holding the baby any longer than necessary.

tang bo huffs. “You're so dramatic, hyung.. She's an angel!”

“Whatever! Just take her! I held her like you wanted!”

tang bo sighs. “Yes, yes give her here”, he says, taking the baby from chung myung's hold. the little girl quickly finds comfort in her father's arms and tang bo's heart soars.

he then went on and gushed about how absolutely perfect and endearing his daughter is to an exasperated chung myung, those dangerous lines of thought left unaddressed in his mind. to him, his objective to let his hyung hold his daughter is a success!

**

chung myung is seen having the child in his hold for many more times after that day, and when asked, he simply responded with: “That bastard keeps telling me to do it”

for the people observing him, they felt like that wasn't the only case, making this yet another secret they're keeping to the grave. they can't ever risk receiving the sword saint's ire, of course.

[mariatesstruther]

okay but a version of events in which tommy takes ellie to the fireflies, but NEITHER of them come back. and maria joel have to work together to get them back

[dreambutdontsleepx]

"I'm just keeping my options fluid"

IF THATS NOT A BISEXUAL MAN I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS