#once a kid pointed a toy shot with a big ball on the tip at me and i panicked and had to leave the room lol

[binch-i-might-be]

me? I'm nauseous

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”

[thatkpophoelife]

Jealousy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem. Reader (ft. Taehyung and NCT Jaehyung)

RATING: Mature 18+

GENRE: NonIdol Au. Highschool Au. Smut. Fluff 

WC: 8K

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook have been best friends since the beginning of time. You spent every waking moment together until one night your at a party and the feelings you have been trying to keep inside decide they want to erupt and make your life harder than you ever could have expected. 

WARNINGS: Swearing. under aged drinking. Big dick Jungkook. Oral (Fem. Rec.) Nipple Play. Fingering (Fem. Rec.) Multiple Orgasms. Cream Pie. Unprotected Sex. Slight Daddy Kink. Slight degradation (hardly mentioned). Thigh Ridding. 

A/N: I’m so happy I’m finally done with it. I am so happy with the result. I have been working hard for the last few days getting this ready to post so sorry if anything is spelt wrong or doesn’t make sense. ENJOY! 

You and Jungkook have been best friends since the first grade. It all started when you fell off the monkey bars during recess. Your palms and knees were bloody and scraped. The cement was rough against your skin and you could see those small little rocks in the small cuts on your hands. As a little kid they seemed way worse than they really were. You were scared you would need to go to the doctors for stiches and then they would need to give you a shot. You were like 7, things like that terrified you.

When you looked up through your watery eyes, you could see a little boy with cute cheeks, deep brown eyes, and bangs. You looked back down at the ground and wiped off your cheeks and nose. When you looked back up you saw the same boy but with his hand out for you to grab. You reached out to grab it and he pulled you up with a huge grin and a huff.

“I’m Jungkook but my friends call me Kookie.”

“I'm Y/N. Thanks for helping me up Jungkook.” You though it had a nice ring to it.

“No problem. I have a band aid in my pocket, you can have it”

“Really? Thanks.” When he handed you the band aid you couldn’t help but notice it had a small picture of Woody from Toy Story on it.

In the days that went by, you two hung out nonstop. He told you almost everything that you could learn about a 7-year-old. You learned his birthday was September 1st, he has an older brother named SeokJin that everyone calls Jin, he likes pizza, and loves soccer. You knew other things of course, but those were just some of the basics.

You became best friends extremely fast and spent most of your summer together. You went to the beach more than once a week. Your parents became friends with his parents and there was no going back on this friendship now. You did develop a teensy tiny basically non-existent crush on Jin but it quickly went away when Jungkook called you out on it and asked you to never see his brother in that light again. You agreed because even though you were only now 8, you still had your priorities and Jungkook was in the top 3.  

By the time second grade came around he asked you, aka forced you, into joining his soccer team so you could “spend more time together.” You whined for the entire first practice. Since your mom was excited to finally see you doing a sport, she put your hair up in pigtails and bought you neon pink knee socks with a just as neon yellow visor. You were not happy. When you got to the field you felt out of place and like everyone was laughing at you. Those worries effected how you played. Just because you never played the sport before doesn’t mean you weren’t somewhat decent at it.

You knew how to dribble kind of well and you had decent aim when trying to make the ball in the net. But your real strong suit was goalie. You were never afraid of the ball or of getting hurt. If you needed to you would gladly dive for the ball if that’s what your team needed to win a game. You were never a girly girl so getting dirt on your knees never bothered you.

Despite all of this you still didn’t want to try out. Your mom was loud and never stopped cheering your name, no matter where you were. You had no other siblings so it’s not like she had anywhere else to be. She had her own small company that way she could create her own schedule and get to go to anything you wanted her to and as far as she knew that was everything. All of your class field trips, sport games, school plays, everything. You were too nervous to tell her otherwise because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You know that she only went overboard because she loves you so much but sometimes you wished she loved you a little less. And your dad was always busy with his 9-5 job so he never went to any of your things.

You never stopped playing though. You ended up enjoying the sport more than you could have expected. It was even more enjoyable since you were actually good at it, you always got to be goalie in all of your games. You and Jungkook were actually the star players on your co-ed team. And whenever Jungkook would ask you about why you still played even though you “didn’t like it that much” you always said you liked it enough to continue playing and that you had nothing better to do. You knew deep down that he knew you enjoyed the sport just as much as him, but you also knew he would never call you out on it.  

You won almost all of your games, and you and Jungkook always fought over who deserved the trophy’s. Your argument was that the goalie was a key role to stop the other team from scoring. Jungkook’s was that he made most of the goals to keep your teams score up too high for the other team to ever catch up. It always came to a vote among your teammates, Jungkook always won and you knew it was because most of the girls had a crush on him and wanted him to like them back.

Besides that, nothing exciting happend in your friendship for a while. You spent a lot of time playing soccor in parks and when it was soccor season. You spent all of your summers together and both you’re your guys’ parent let you two get a golden retriever to take care of named Olive the summer before 6th grade. She was staying at Jungkook’s though because it was his idea in the first place. It didn’t mean you never go to see her there. You spent half of your summer there so you saw her a lot.

In your summer of 7th grade Olive got hit by a truck. You were both devasted and Jungkook spent a week at your house. All because Jin forgot to let Olive in at night so she decided to run. Jungkook didn’t talk to Jin for almost a month.

Then in 8th grade a boy named Park Jimin decided to throw a “End of the Summer Almost Freshmen in High-School” party. In reality it was more like ten people that were all in some way shape or form a part of his friend circle. You were invited because they needed another girl to come and Jungkook talked you up so much Jimin had no choice.

The night was all fun and games until his parents went to bed. He quickly grabbed an empty 16-liter Coca-Cola bottle and sat it in the middle of the floor and had everyone gather around in a circle. You were beyond nervous considering you hardly knew any of the boys that were playing and you have never had you first kiss.

A few rounds went by and nothing particularly interesting happened. Jimin kissed some girl named Emily that you didn’t like that much anyways. Then it was Jungkook’s turn. He spun it and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It felt as if the bottle was spinning non-stop. Past Emily, past Nichole, past Maddison, past Jimin, past everyone else. Then it stopped, and pointed at you.

You felt your heart speed up. You couldn’t kiss your best friend. It was wrong in so many ways. But the chanting of your names in the background couldn’t go unnoticed. You had no choice but to kiss him. Well, you kind of did but you were hoping that by doing something like this people will start to like you more and not look at you as Jungkook’s best friend. You both sat up and looked each other in the eyes.

Slowly the rest of the world started to silently drift away. You don’t know if it was because everyone around you stopped talking to watch the kiss or because you were to focused on Jungkook and nothing else. His right hand slowly went to up to your caress your cheek while his left hand was on the floor keeping him balanced. You couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. The way they traveled from your pupils, to the tip of your nose, and finally landing on your lips. The way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your cheek leaving a burning sensation wherever it touched. The way he locked eyes with you one last time to make sure he had your permission first.

You noticed that the second you nodded your head giving him permission; he didn’t waste a second to kiss you. The kiss was soft but urgent. Like you both have been waiting for this very moment for so long. Once he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and gave you a look you would never forget. He smirked.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in absolute confusion and utter disbelief. Did he want that kiss to happen? Did he do that because the guys were watching? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew, was that you’ve had a huge crush on your best friend since the very beginning.

Ever since that day he helped you up from the dirty ground when your hands and knees you scraped and bloody. Ever since he told you it was a good idea to co-own a puppy. Ever since the last day of middle school when you took a selfie jumping with glee. These feelings had been hiding ever since the beginning, and Jungkook’s lips was the only thing to break down the barriers and release those feelings.

You didn’t bother to sit back down in the circle. You wanted to go home, needed to go home. You didn’t want to wake up your parents and ask them to pick you up. You also didn’t want to walk through the door and have them ask why you came home. You knew exactly what to do.

Call Jin.

He answered on about the fourth ring. “Hello?” said the course and tired voice from the other line. You felt bad the second you heard him speak because you knew you woke him up.

“Hey Jin. Umm I was wondering if you could pick me up from the party?” You were prepared to literally beg him to come pick you up.

“Whatever. It’s the same house Kookie’s at, right?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t even need to ask twice.

“That is very correct. I will be ready and waiting outside for you to pull up.”

“Loser. I will be there in 10, don’t make me wait.” You couldn’t help but smile widely while you were getting you stuff together and putting your shoes on.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You have got to be kidding.

“Hey Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here. I was invited” You can see it written all over his cute little bunny face that he was so confused.

“I- I'm just not feeling too well, I'm going home” You couldn’t help the painfully obvious stutter as you lied to your best friend’s face.

“How, it’s a sleep over? Your mom won’t be thrilled if you called her at 1 o’clock in the morning.”

“I already called someone, and they should be here any minute now so you can go back and enjoy kissing those other girls.” What did you just say? You couldn’t stop the words before they came out. Would that be how he found out you liked him? Is that the sentence that would ruin your friendship? Sometimes you felt so very stupid.

“Okay I will.” With that he walked back to continue the game of spin the bottle with a huge smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but stare, eyes wide and mouth agape. You couldn’t help but wonder if that kiss meant nothing to him. As far as you knew that was his first kiss, and it was most defiantly yours.

As you were lost in your dark cloud of thoughts, your phone dinged making you jump a little. It was Jin texting you that he was already there to pick you up. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting him to be here this fast.

You quickly picked your bag off of the ground, slipped on your black and white checkered Vans, and made your way out the door. When you got to Jin’s car, you quickly threw your stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where to Y/N?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was wearing a simple grey Champion hoodie with black Nike joggers. His hair was all messy from sleeping and the moon perfectly aligned his features. You couldn’t lie, Jin was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, but you prefer guys closer to your age. Plus, you like the younger brother anyway. Hey snap out of it you need to not like your best friend.

“Um, Y/N? Where do you want me to take you because if you don’t speak up, I will take you straight home.”

“Oh, sorry. Can I just crash at your guys’ place? I know Kookie’s not there but I don’t want my parents asking questions and to yell at me for waking you up.” Yes, you were playing the, ‘please don’t rat me out’ card. But you weren’t lying to him so what’s the problem?

“Sure, just sleep in Kook’s bed. You tend to snore sometimes.” He reached over to ruffle your hair with a huge grin on his face

“Hey! I do not snore!” You felt like a 5-year-old throwing a fit with the way you pouted out your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your chest, and sank into the seat.

“Whatever dork. Why do you want to leave early anyways? Did something happen?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned, and he was crazy good at keeping secrets so what was the harm in telling him about your mild crush on his little brother.

“At the party after Jimin’s parents went to sleep we all played spin the bottle and when it was Kookie’s turn I suddenly was really really nervous it would land on one of the other girls and I didn’t know why but then it landed on me and we kissed and now I think I have a moderately huge crush on him that I never realized I had before and I'm kind of freaking out. Don’t tell anybody though please,” You finally took a breath after your long and wordy run on sentence.

“You’re just now realizing?” Jin had a huge smile on his face and was laughing but you had no idea why.

“What do you mean ‘you’re just now realizing?’” You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Y/N you and Jungkook obviously have had huge crushes on each other for like ever. He admitted his to me a while ago.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and you knew you would ask Jungkook about it the next time you saw him.

“Can you just take me to your place. It’s late and I'm tired,” After your friendly reminder Jin drove off to his house so you could sleep. He didn’t poke and prod at it any more and you were grateful. Jin was the older brother you never had and you were the little sister he always wanted.

When you woke up Jungkook was already there. You told him about how Jungkook told him that he had a crush on you. Jungkook shot you down almost immediately saying it was just a way to attempt to humiliate him. You felt hurt. Your best friend of years and your huge crush basically said it would be humiliating to have a crush on you. Lucky for you, you left very shortly after and spent your weekend preparing for your first year of high school and getting over your crush on Jungkook. Mostly.

****

Your freshman year was chaotic. You and Jungkook had only a few classes together so you almost drifted apart. It didn’t help that ever since the party Jungkook seemed to be hiding something from you. Something big. The only thing that kept you close was soccor and Jin. But after first semester Jungkook started hanging out with seniors and going to parties. You asked to go once, thinking that he would stay by your side and not let you be taken away by some guy you didn’t know. That wasn’t the case.

Once you entered through the doors Jungkook quickly left your side and got drunk. You caught him in a corner making out with a girl you had never seen before. Then you watched as he pulled her away to a room. Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed close behind. After a minute of them being alone in a room you began hearing moans. You were destroyed.

You quickly made your way to the door so you could go back home, when you ran into a very beautiful man. He couldn’t have been much older than you. He had beautiful chestnut hair and two beautiful dimples. You didn’t even bother asking for his name once you saw the mischievous glint in his eye. You let him lead you to a room, know what was going to happen.

That was how you lost your virginity. It wasn’t special liked you hoped it was going to be. You later learned his name was Jaehyun. It didn’t matter because you didn’t plan on talking to him again. Neither of you wanted anything more than sex that night.

You and Jungkook got into a fight one night. You don’t know what happened to start the fight. All you remember is that it ended with both of you in tears and him hugging you like he never wanted to let go. You made up and everything that happened before that was forgotten. Mostly.

You spent the rest of your school years studying hard and getting through all of your actual difficult classes so the only non-elective class you were taking senior year was your English class. Which you had with Jungkook, of course. You spent your summers with him and you both made it into varsity soccor. He knew the truth about your love for soccor when he heard you talking to your mom about it.

You still hadn’t had a boyfriend yet in your sophomore year. You were just too busy with school to actually try to get a dude’s attention, and you said your junior year was going to be different. You would meet a guy, get Jungkook’s approval, fall in love, have the ‘break up talk’ when you sign up for college, and most likely do just that, break up. The only key problem is that whenever you were walking in the halls and saw a cute guy Jungkook would always say he was a dick and that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You tended not to ask questions.

But now you were standing in front of your full-length body mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in your outfit and occasionally touching up your make up or hair. Your first day of senior year outfit was simple but was sure to turn heads. You opted for a tight-fitted white crop top that showed your cleavage, skinny ripped jeans that hugged your ass perfectly that also had a rip under your left ass cheek, and your black heeled Timberland’s. Your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup looked flawless. You asked Jungkook to bring one of his black leather jackets for you to wear over everything. Damn you looked good.

Just as you were shaking out any last nervous jitters you heard a honk, indicating that your best friend was here to pick you up. You quickly grabbed your bag, ran down stairs, and grabbed two slices of toast for breakfast. Saying by to your parents you turned the nob of the door handle and ran out towards Jungkook’s car. As you opened the door to his red convertible, he looked at you and his jaw dropped. You missed the way his eyes scanned your figure and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. He was eating you up in his mind, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Hey Kookie, do you have the jacket I asked for?” You handed him a piece of toast as your put on your seatbelt, shaking him out of his trance as he gave you said jacket.

“Ready for our first day? You’re going to be turning heads in that outfit,” You missed the way his eyes snuck a glance at your cleavage before driving off.

“I know right. I’ve been single all of high school so far and this year I want that to change.” You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you spoke. “I like your outfit by the way, it’s nice.” He was wearing black skinny jeans, black doc martins, a black tee, and a black faux leather jacket. And because of Jungkook’s new found passion of working out his thighs looked incredible.

“Thanks. Are we still going out to lunch so we don’t need to eat cafeteria food?”

“Duh, what else, and chew with your mouth closed you look like a 7-year-old.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook did not miss the small and simple gesture.  

“Hey! You’re the one who became friends with this 7-year-old.”

“That’s not fair you were an angel sent from heaven, my savior. Now you’re just a jack-ass.

“I know you love me.”

“Jungkook what would you know. At first you thought that 7x7 was 64.”

“Oh my god woman will you just drop that I was in 3rd grade.” You both just laughed at each other’s silly antics from when you were younger until you pulled into the school’s parking lot. The second you stood up and walked over to walk in with your best friend, every one stopped and stared. It felt like one of those dramatic movie scenes where the wind is blowing and everything turns into slow motion while you hear the main characters internal monolog.

“Why is everyone staring at us, is something in my teeth? Did my makeup smudge?” You pulled at the side of his jacket making him lean down so you could whisper in his ear. Just because you were walking in 4-inch heels did not make you as tall as him.

“No dummy. We look like the ultimate power couple right now. The hottest girl and guy in school, of course they’re staring.” You were so busy nodding your head and looking at other people that you didn’t catch the way his eyes fell to the curve of your ass.

You walked into school going to your respectable homerooms, then meeting up in the hall to go to your shared English class. You noticed that the popular girls kept trying to befriend you. You knew it was because you were now a threat and they did not want you to be prom queen. Last year you weren’t but guess who was, Emily. You still didn’t like each other. You don’t know why you didn’t get along but it’s not like you wanted to be her friend or something.

You and Jungkook sat down next to each other talking about how weird the day had been. People were still staring but who could blame them, you both had huge summer glow ups.

When you looked up at the clock hanging above the door, you notice a boy you’ve never seen before. He was incredibly attractive and had a beautiful symmetric face. You felt like you were drooling while you stared at him. Then he looked over at you and smiled. How the hell does a man’s smile look like that. You finally met the man that would actually rival Jungkook’s own good looks.

“Hey can I sit here?” You jumped when he asked the question, not expecting his voice to also sound hot.

“Yeah, Y/N by the way.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead of shaking it he placed an opened mouth kissed on your knuckles. Wow he was hot. It made your thighs clench. Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” You were so entranced by this new boy’s handsome good looks you didn’t see the terrifying daggers Jungkook was sending his way. He read him like a book. He would lead a girl on, take her innocence, and then leave her out to dry.

Jungkook didn’t just guess this either, he had Taehyung’s snapchat and snapped him one summer after he saw him at a party. Taehyung had told Jungkook his tactics, and Jungkook even went to his house where he witnessed him use those very tactics.

“There’s a party at my house Saturday night around 10 pm, if you give me your number, I can text you the details and you can come.” You turned to Jungkook giving him hopeful eyes until he sighed and nodded. After all you don’t go to a party without your best friend.

“As long as Jungkook, my best friend since 1st grade might I add, can come with.” You weren’t going without him and that was that. Taehyung agreed without hesitation and you gave him your number. You quickly regretted it though because once he opened his mouth you lost interest extremely quickly.

All he could seem to talk about was all of the girls he’s hooked up with and how he could get any girl he wanted. You knew what he was trying to get at and became bored very fast. You were actually extremely grateful when the class started.

You and Jungkook passed notes the entire time, all about the egotistical boy next to you. And even though you didn’t like him, you would go to his party because you wanted to actually live a little your senior year. But sadly, one potential future boyfriend was out the door and you were back at square one.

The rest of the week passed by fast and because you had mostly easy elective classes you had no homework over the weekend for the first time in years. Which meant you had all sorts of time to party. You texted Jungkook to pick you up at around 9 so you would have time to get ready but still be at the party in time.

****

You woke up around noon on Saturday from your alarm. You didn't wake up because you wanted to but because you didn’t want to ruin the sleep schedule you didn’t even have. Why did you wake up again? Anyways once you woke up from you slumber you texted Jungkook to clear up some last-minute details.

 Y/N

are you up yet? I just woke up. why dont I wake up like disney princesses?? I look like a monster :(

Kookie

Disney princesses are pretty thats why you don’t look like them in the morning or ever for that matter

Y/N

stfu your no prince charming either

Kookie

Really? Then why would almost every girl in our school blow me???

Y/N

If thats the case then why don’t you get some so you can stop complaining to me about how horny you always are??

Kookie

Because I have my right eye some one

Y/N

WHO?!?! and why havent I heard about this until now?? and why just your right eye??

Kookie

Because not EVERYTHING is your business smartypants and dont talk about my left eye

Y/N

whatever I will find out about this mystery girl though… MARK MY WORDS!! YOULL BE JUNGSHOOK

Kookie

Whatever you say smartypants whyd you text me anyways?

Y/N

Right! your still picking me up, RIGHT?!

Kookie

Its you’re, but yes I'm still picking you up

Y/N

Good, I will be ready in 3-4 hours :)

Kookie

You do know the party is at like 10 right

Y/N

THEN JUST PICK ME UP AT 10 GOD DAMNIT

Kookie

Not how you spell dammit but alright

Y/N

Stfu english nerd and good bye until 10

 With that your conversation with Jungkook ended and you started to binge watch Haikyu!! until around 6. Then you rolled out of bed and started getting ready. You got into the shower, shaving everything. You didn’t know what was going to happen tonight so you figured you would be extra prepared. You even used your exfoliator, if you anyone got to touch you, they would be lucky.

Then you did your hair. You curled it perfectly and then put it in a high pony tail. Perfect party hair in your opinion. Then you did your makeup making sure to keep it simple yet amazing. You opted for a winged liner, perfectly done brows, and dark red lipstick. Lastly was your outfit. Your room was a complete mess after you threw half of your closet onto the floor but your pretty sure you found a great outfit.

You put on your matching set of black lacy lingerie that made your ass look good and your boobs even better. You than grabbed a different white crop top with a dangerously low cut making your black lace peak out from the sides and small booty shorts that barely covered your ass. Then you grabbed the same leather jacket you wore on your first day of school and put on a pair of sneakers. You went to that party with Jungkook once so you knew how crazy and disgusting the ground could be.

By the time you were completely done it was already 8:47. You didn’t think it would take quite that long to get ready but at the same time you did. You were touching up your makeup when Jungkook texted you he was waiting. You didn’t tell your parents about the fact that you were going to a party and they knew that if they saw you dressed the way you were, they would flip. So like any other teen, you made plans to sneak out.

The only person you to actually worry about catching you was your dad because you knew if your mom caught you, she would laugh at you and tell you to have fun. Your dad on the other hand not so much.

Jungkook parked a block down from your house and turned off his car headlights so he wouldn’t be as noticeable. You opened your window as quietly was possible and began to scale your wall. Thankful that your bedroom window was the one closest to the gutter and that you chose sneakers as your shoes. Once you hit the ground safely, you bolted for Jungkook’s car and got in as fast as you could.

“Hey cutie,” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows. Luckily for him, his car lights were off so you didn’t catch him gaping at your breasts.

“Sup, you ready to party?” You asked as he turned on the car and started to drive where the GPS told him.

“Yes, now remember no sleeping with some random dude and no drugs”

“Same to you mister”

“Ok so if you want to stay out late text your mom and ask if you can spend the night at my house because my parents are out of town and Jin is going to this food thing with his friends for like three days.” Jungkook said as he merged into traffic.

“Good idea,” You pulled out your phone and texted your mom knowing she would understand much better than your father. “She said that’s fine”.

“Good so if you get hung over you don’t need to try and explain it to your mom,” Damn was Jungkook always this smart, and did he always look this good.

After driving the rest of the way, you pulled into Taehyung’s house and you were awestruck. It was huge and surrounded by hedges. You couldn’t see another house within a mile which was good because that means the cops won’t be called because of noise complaints.

You stepped out of Jungkook’s car and walked into Taehyung’s house immediately being greeted with the smell of alcohol and weed. You quickly got separated from Jungkook and made your way to the kitchen to fill a red solo cup half full with some beer you found and apple juice. You slammed it down, wincing as it made its way down your throat. It wasn’t the best tasting but it was better than the beer by itself.

Once you were done making yourself the same drink again, you made your way outside and found a huge pool with a jacuzzi right by it. You scanned the area, seeing a couple making out in the pool and three boys you didn’t quite recognize playing around in the pool. As you continued looking around taking another sip of your drink you noticed something strange. Standing next to the pool was Jungkook and Emily.

She was twirling her hair in her fingers and giggling while Jungkook looked her up and down smirking the entire time.

You know you’ve been telling Jungkook to get a girlfriend for years now, but you thought he knew you were just joking. For some odd reason you were upset. You didn’t know why at first. Maybe because you didn’t like Emily, maybe because you didn’t want Emily to steal him away from you. You were Jealous. You hated when it hit you like a pile of bricks. But you definitely  intended on doing something about it.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink in your red solo cup hoping it would give you more courage, and made your way over to them.

“Hey Jungkook I need to talk to y-,” You were walking towards him and before you knew it you were falling into the pool. Your first thought was that you tripped but when you resurfaced from the water you saw Emily looking at you with a sly grin. All you could do was glare.

“Oops,” Emily snickered as she grabbed out her phone and took several pictures of you. Great now your hot ass makeup and hair was completely ruined. Shit you’re wearing a WHITE shirt and BLACK bra that are now wet. You looked down to confirm it and sure enough your shirt was more than see-through. AND Jungkook’s leather jacket was ruined. At least you wore sneakers.

“What the fuck Emily,” You were startled from your stare down with the girl when you heard Jungkook’s low voice. It was loud and honestly kind of turned you on. Wait you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that. You shook the thought out of your head and looked up at Jungkook. His fists were balled up at his sides and his jaw was clenched. He looked fine as hell.

As you slowly made your way to the side of the pool, he took off his leather jacket and knelt down. Once you got to the side he reached down with both arms, inserted his hands under your armpits, and hoisted you out of the water. He then helped you take off his ruined leather jacket and threw it at Emily. “Happy now?” He then took his perfectly fine leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders instructing you to hold it closed. “Come on let’s go get you cleaned up.” He bent down and whispered it into your ear causing shivers to go down your spin. You could only nod in response.

As he led you towards the doors of the house, he yanked his jacket from Emily’s hand and gave her one of the scariest looks you’ve ever seen. All you did was smirk and stick your tongue out at her like a 5-year-old. You were very satisfied.

He led you through the crowd of people dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t in a public setting. He then led you to what you assumed was going to be a bathroom but ended up being a bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew his way around so well.

When you entered the room, you realized it was huge with a bathroom connected to it. “Why did you take me here instead of a normal bathroom?” You asked.

“Because most likely they are occupied by other people and I don’t really want to walk in on some other couple having sex. Especially when I'm with you.” What was that supposed to mean? “And before you ask how I know my way around, I used to be sort of friends with Tae. I only came here once when he tried hooking me up with some random chick and I guessed I just remembered my way around.” He was so honest so easily.

“Did you do anything with the chick?” You felt stupid the moment you asked.

“What?” You don’t know if he didn’t hear you or what but you still asked again.

“Did you do anything with her, the girl he tried hooking you up with?” You felt pathetic.

“I told you have my right eye on someone else.” He said leading you into the bathroom.

“Who is this lucky girl anyways?” You asked sitting on the sink countertop while you took off Jungkook’s jacket.

He paused, “Let’s just say, I played a game of spin the bottle at Jimin’s house before freshman year started. I kissed her. She was the only person I kissed that night. I realized that I had a massive crush on her but she left and felt hella crushed. I stopped playing and couldn’t help but feel like I was losing her forever. But I still spend all of my spare time with her and I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Deep down I’m afraid that she will never like me back because of the girls I slept with freshman year but I want her to know that I only did that to try and convince myself that it I wasn’t in love with her. After I found out she slept with some random guy one night at a party that I took her to I came to my senses and let myself love her. I still regret the night I took her to that party because I wish I was the one to get to take her innocence away.”

You looked at him, you mouth agape, “oh” You knew he was talking about you.

You watched his eyes dart down to your lips as his tongue poked out lick his. His hands drifted down and grabbed your waist softly, just in case you wanted to stop him. He slowly leaned down, brushing your hair behind your ear and whispering in a deep raspy tone that made your panties wet, “You can stop me at any time”.

Within moments his soft, plush lips were on yours. Your hands made their way up his back and intertwined into his black curly locks, tugging harshly. Jungkook let out a low groan that made your body hot. One of his hands crept up and lightly brushed against your nipple making you gasp into the kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste any time and immediately his tongue was exploring your mouth.

Once you broke the kiss, gasping for air, Jungkook placed his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up, causing goosebumps to emit across your body. He carried you out of the bathroom, throwing you on the bed. You watched as he took off his shirt and crawled over you. You’ve seen him shirtless many times but this time it was different. You happy felt up his chest and you didn’t have to worry about him questioning you because he was kneeling over you, devouring you with his eyes.

Before you knew it, he was trying to take your shirt off. You gladly assisted him, pulling off your bra along with it. Once it was off and you looked up at him, you felt shy. Jungkook was just staring at your chest and wasn’t saying anything.

“Do you need to make it obvious that you don’t like my boobs?” Your hands went up to cover yourself. You were always insecure about them.

“Your right Y/N I don’t like your boobs; I fucking love them,” He quickly moved your hands away and leaned down. His mouth connected with your nipple, his tongue making your back arch into him. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second. His teeth gently grazed your nipple and you let out a loud whimper. You really hoped your great-grandma wasn’t watching you right now.

He left of your nipple with a pop and kissed his way to your other, leaving small hickeys marking his path. He did the same things to this one. You couldn’t wait anymore and moved your hand down to your core. You needed some sort of friction, but Jungkook’s hand stopped you.

“Ungrateful slut. I’m giving you all of this pleasure and you can’t wait. I want you to ride my thigh and maybe if I like what I see I’ll let you finish more than once tonight,” You looked at him in awe. When the fuck did he learn to talk like that. It was hot as hell but still.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. You werent sure what to do, so he pulled you onto his thigh. You froze up right away. You were straddling his thigh too afraid to do anything. He looked you dead in the eyes as his hands went down to your waist, forcing you to move. Relief flooded you. You were so happy that he finally let you have some sort of friction.

Your hands went to rest on his shoulders so it was easier to hold yourself up. You quickly started doing all of the work. Moving yourself at a fast pace on Jungkook’s thigh. You could feel his hard through his pants and it only made you more needy. He continuously clenched his thigh making you come undone even faster.

“Oh my god Jungkook. I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna cu-,” You let out shaky breath feeling that familiar knot build up in your stomach. Right as you were about to snap Jungkook stopped your hips from moving.

“Did you really think I was going to let you cum already? Go lay down.” You obeyed him quickly, watching as he kneeled down at the end of the bed. He grabbed your pants and with one swift motion slid them off, throwing them somewhere else in the room.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you. This good little pussy” He ripped your panties off of you, eliciting a loud groan. You were becoming impatient, squirming in front of him. He used his hand to hold your hips in place, while his other went to rub delicate circles on your clit. You watched as his face dove into you. Licking a stripe up your folds, collecting all of your juices.

“Fuck Y/N. You taste so good.” He groaned out, quickly diving back in. His eyes were blown out in hunger. He moved his hand away from your clit and replaced it with his tongue. Sliding one finger in you, moving at a slow pace and curling it, reaching your g-spot. A loud moan escaped you as you started trying to rock your hips against his face. Interlacing your fingers in his locks.

He pulled away to take a breath, “Do you think you can handle to fingers? Gotta prepare my baby for later. Yeah? I'm gonna stretch you out so good. Gonna destroy this pussy.” With that he inserted a second finger into you, reattacking your clit with his tongue. His pace kept intensifying. You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach build.

“Fuck Jungkook. I'm gonna-,” your words turned into a drawn-out moan when he hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me baby.” At that, the knot it your stomach snapped and relief washed over your body. You tried closing your legs but Jungkook held them open.

Once he was done lapping up all of your juices, he moved up and kissed you, hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands made their way down to undo Jungkook’s pants. He broke away from the kiss and stood up, pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

You stared at his member for a second in awe. You knew he was big, but no that big. The tip was an angry red and you could see the veins. You were growing wetter just thinking about the delicious stretch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said “I'm gonna have to go in raw.”

You smiled up at him, bucking your hips up towards his hard to get some sort of friction. “I'm on birth control.” That was all you needed to say before he slowly started entering you. The stretch being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked worry on his face. You shook your head, “It’s just, new.”

He smiled, “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment you shook your head, giving him the okay to start moving again. He slowly pulled out all the way before pushing in again, hitting your g-spot as he did. You could feel the veins on his cock, and your legs wrapped around his small waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

He slowly started to pick up the pace, pulling out all of the way before pushing back in. It wasn’t long before the pain morphed into pleasure. Moans spilling from your lips. The louder you moaned the faster he went.

“Ha-harder, da-daddy,” you didn’t mean to say it, but when you did his head snapped up.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He starting snapping his hips into yours. You could hear the head board hitting the wall with each thrust but you didn’t mind at all. All you felt was bliss.

“Da-addy I-I'm gonna c-cum.” Your walls started clenching around him.

“Fuck baby, cum. Cum for daddy” With that you did. Your release hit you hard. Your legs shaking as you dug your nails into his back piercing a few layers of his skin. Moaning out his name.

Even after you came, he kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he did. Your moans making him close. His body was coated in a layer of sweat.

“Cum in me daddy. Please. Fill me up.” You choked out as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum.” You tightened around him one last time, feeling as his seed shot into you. You both laid there for a moment. Neither one wanting to leave. You could feel your mixed juicing seeping out of your whole as he began to soften inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you, “You need to go to the bathroom.” He picked you up bridal style from the bed and walked you over to the bathroom. Setting you down on the toilet so you could pee. When you were done, he picked you up and set you on the counter, taking a warm rag and cleaning you off making you sigh at the pleasant feeling. He carried you back to the bed and laid you down, getting into his boxers.

He laid down next to you and covered you both with the blanket, before wrapping his arm around tightly around your waist. His chin on your head as he cuddled you. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off to sleep

****

When you woke up and saw your best friend next to you, sleeping peacefully, you were relieved. Relieved that it wasn’t a dream and relieved that he didn’t up and leave in the middle of the night to leave because he regretted it. You leaned over and draped your arm over his torso and snuggled up to him, resting you head on his arm. He groaned, making you halt your actions.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said with a smile, kissing you on the top of your head.

You smiled happy it was him you woke up next to, “Morning.”

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. :) Send any ideas you have for anything. P.S The gif wouldn’t load :( so sorry about that. 

[wing-ed-thing]

Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter VII)

Synopsis: You can't stand Might Guy. Honestly, how could anyone be so boisterously unaware and sickeningly positive? Your heart sinks as the both of you are teamed up to infiltrate and collect information from the Hidden Sound's gritty nightlife. Maybe losing yourselves in the dark of the underground will help you both come to an understanding.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: Alcohol, Foul Language

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI 

Notes: Y’all it’s my man MIGHT GUY’s BIRTHDAY TODAY! Damn you know I gotta do some celebratory squats.

Guy woke up in the middle of the night to find himself still on your couch. The lights still lit up the room. Guy squinted at the glare of the side lamps. A weight weighed on his chest and after a few blinks, he realized that it was you. He craned his neck and gazed upon your softened features. The tension of your day had since vacated your face. Your hand bunched up in his shirt. Sparks of chakra pulsed from your hands with every breath you took. Guy watched your chest rise.  A burst of chakra came when it fell.

He felt his energy being pulled from his network and swiftly replaced by fragile warmth. Every exhale felt like a slow heartbeat. From your fingertips came a puff of fiery spirit energy. It traveled up Guy’s chest, resolving itself in front of his nose.

Guy slowly pushed himself from the couch and weaved a finger through your balled up fist. Placing your hand in your lap, he maneuvered his forearm under your knees. He picked you up with ease. Guy unconsciously held his breath, careful not to wake you as he made his way to your bed. He placed you in the unmade nest of blankets, turning the nightstand lamp off as the covers enveloped you.

Guy made his exit swift, turning off all of your lights before allowing that partitioning door to softly close.

***

When you woke the next afternoon, you felt more rested than usual. Suspiciously so, but you hardly paid any mind. After all, you had a date.

You looked at the clock. It’s blinking neon slots showed 2:47pm. You groaned and stretched, silently cursing what hostessing did to your sleep schedule. The covers were thrown aside with laziness. You might as well get used to staying up and sleeping in late if this mission was going to last as long as you assumed it was going to.

You studied your wardrobe with disinterest before plucking out a few articles of clothing that you guessed that your date would like. You frowned at your reflection in the mirror as you considered that this would be the first time you went out of your way to dress for a man. The feeling lessened at the prospect of not having to wear an evening gown for a few hours of the work day, but it did not lessen by much.

Making your way to the subtle door, you gave it a light knock before letting yourself in. As you figured, Guy had been up for quite some time. You made your way over to the kitchen where he leaned over the sink. He donned workout gear. Guy gripped a water bottle in his hand as he panted. Red overtook his face. Small beads of sweat he wiped away with a small rag.

“I didn’t get a chance to brief you last night.” You told him as you leaned on the other side of the counter. “I should probably fill you in before I go.”

Guy took a breath and another swig of water.

“You’re not going.” He exhaled. You rolled your eyes.

“Guy, just let me brief you.”

“There’s no shame in taking something you can’t handle off of your plate.” Guy placed down his water bottle. Both hands gripped the counter firmly. You almost laughed. He was kidding, right?

“I can handle myself just fine. Just let me-”

“That’s not what I got from last night.” He looked into your eyes. You kept waiting for a signature Might Guy smile or for him to break and tell you that he was just joking, but it never came. You faltered, unsure of how to answer.

“Well fuck, I’m not going to confide in you just so you can throw it back in my face.” You snapped, more disappointment in your voice than you wanted. “Let me tell you what kind of information I got yesterday-”

“It’s not safe. I can’t spot you. I can’t make sure that you’re safe the whole time.” You crossed your arms, heat rising hotter and hotter to your ears.

“I don’t know why you won’t listen to me right now. Yesterday-”

“It doesn’t matter.” You blinked, a smile of disbelief fighting onto your lips.

“Guy, what the hell?” He came around the kitchen island. You recoiled at the hand that Guy tried to place on your clothed shoulder.

“There will be other opportunities. We don’t even know if this one will help us.” You slapped his hand away. A momentary shock rippled through the two of you.

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t understand why you’re making it a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then you don’t have to go.”

“What the fuck happened to ‘We are on a mission together’?” You stepped closer. “‘Whether you like it or not, that was Lady Tsunade’s call’? Or does that just apply when I’m the one throwing the fucking tantrum.” Guy stayed silent as you challenged him. You puffed your chest out, face in close proximity to his as you glared. “I’m the point of contact so I get to call the shots.”

He spoke your name with a sigh. But you were out of the room before another word fell out of his mouth.

***

Your date rented out a whole private room for your date which made you wonder just how much more the ninja of the Sound were paid. He had taken you to a relatively nice restaurant too: a traditional place where he spoiled you with half the menu. Surely you were sore about being bought as nothing but an expensive ornament, but you couldn’t muster up the rage to be angry at free food (at least for the moment).

It was at that chabudai where you learned that his name was Shou, a Jonin-level ninja.

“Wow, that must mean you’re pretty strong, then.” You sighed, gazing with wonder into his eyes. Chiasa taught you that one. Shou looked to the side with a bashfully prideful smile.

“Well, I mean yeah, kinda.” He feigned modesty. “I mean, I’m kinda gonna be a big deal.” Your date shoved a piece of teriyaki into his mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crooned. “You gotta tell me everything! All this ninja stuff is so fascinating.” The ninja chuckled, diving into his rice.

“Top secret, missy, I can’t tell you everything.”

“Oh who’s a girl like me gonna tell?” You giggled, leaning with your elbows propping you against the table. The Sound ninja hesitated.

“Maybe later, beautiful.”

You frowned inwardly despite the coy expression plastered to your lips. You weren’t about to push it right now.

***

It became abundantly clear that perhaps Tsunade put you in the right position as a host girl after all. You stared at the empty glasses on the table, then back at your date. The Sound ninja roared with laughter, once again, in a private booth at the club. You laughed along with him, showering him with flattery as you fed him drink after drink.

“The three L’s,” You remembered Yuzuki telling you. The memory reeked of cigarettes. “Liquor Loosens Lips.”

You snuggled into your target’s side, his arm loosely around your shoulders. The rim of your glass met your lips. A gaze lingered on your skin. Your eyes narrowed and your attention immediately snapped towards the bar.

Guy stared your direction, a cup in his hand and cloth in the other. His leer raked across you and you nearly shuttered under the intensity. Guy put the clean glass with the other. You kept waiting for a look of reassurance or a subtle wink to remind you that he was there for you, but he tore himself from your connection. His diverted eyes hit you like a door slamming in your face. A pang of hurt erupted in your chest. You scoffed. Your date didn’t notice.

You grasped the bottle of scotch by the neck and refilled the ninja’s drink.

“So, Mr. “Big Deal”, how did you manage that?” You shifted in your seat, laying a hand on Shou’s chest.

“It’s not exactly legal, sweetheart.” You toyed with his robes as you pouted.

“Clients tell me these sorts of things all the time.” You glanced back to the bar. Guy was already looking your way. “I doubt that anything you could say could surprise me.”

Your hand came over his as you grasped his drink. Your breath hitched as you trained your focus on your kekkei genkai. You let a spark pass which transformed into a trickle of controlled energy. The scotch met your lips. The drunken Sound ninja studied you, tongue wetting his lips as your head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I don’t know much about it,” He began, persuaded by nothing but your touch, “But some opportunities have come up among the ninja. Some serious cash is involved I know that.”

“How cryptic of you.” You glanced down, then back up. “Cash for what?”

“Information of course.” The ninja tapped his drink and you reached for the bottle, but someone grasped it before you did.

“Having a good time, Shou?” The unfamiliar ninja in front of you mused, reading the label on the side. Your date lifted his cup with a silent nod. Wasted. You focused on the chakra flow, making the information exchange as small and undetectable as possible.

A group of them stood in front of you. Two went around to help their comrade from his seat next to you. They tipped handsomely. You recognized them from your first night of work. The rest of the group patted Shou on his back and rustled his hair, helping him as he floundered to the back room. A woman trailed behind the main group. From your recollection, she usually stayed behind. You watched as they went, disappearing behind the curtained doors to the left of the bar.

You frowned at the table. They took the bottle of scotch with them. You began to neatly gather the empty liquor glasses onto the tray, but were interrupted once more. The unsettling feeling of a man standing to close sent a shiver down your spine.

“Excuse me, Yakushi-san. Let me clear this booth and I’ll be right with you.” You attempted a pleasant exterior. The uneasy presence lingered closely behind you. A hand made its way to your waist.

“Of course.”

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[detectivesplotslies]

Take Me To Your Leader

Oumota Week 2020 - Day 4: (Mutual) Pining  / Promise

Description: Kokichi has captured an alien, so he claims! Kaito doesn’t believe him! Elementary school friends au. Word Count: 1366

Read on AO3 here 

“You did not capture an alien!” Kokichi kept skipping ahead, as the taller boy followed him out onto the sidewalk. This was the third time he’d declared that since they left the playground where Kokichi had made his announcement to everyone. It had mostly been met by giddy excitement, boos or disinterest from the others, but no one had challenged him on it. No one else, that was. Only Kaito Momota, the boy who always got into arguments with their teachers on every topic in any textbook, especially science. Apparently they weren’t teaching them enough for him. “Oh yeah, what makes Kai-chan so sure I didn’t? Have you caught an alien? Are you an expert?” Kokichi called back without turning to look at his classmate, grinning the whole time. There he was, in his Spider-man shirt and spiky mess of purple hair, and a frown on his face. “No, but…” He paused and shot back, “Where would you even be keeping it?!” Where? Oh he knew a place!

Kokichi spun on his heels and bounced right up to Kaito, eyes big and bright, hands up to his chest in little fists, Kaito almost stumbling into him. “You wanna see where?” “I- what?” “I saaaaid, do you want to see where I’m keeping it?” The taller kid squinted down at him, tilting his head a bit. He was definitely thinking about it though. Hardly sure about it anymore, huh? “...Yeah I guess, I’d like to see where you would keep it. If you had one. Which you don’t!” He puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms. “Aw well, if Kai-chan is gonna be like that then I won’t.” The smaller kid turned tail and went back to skipping away, only to be stopped two steps later with a hand on his shoulder. “Kokichi wait-” “Yesssss?” Kaito looked at the ground and wrung his hands together. “...Okay maybe you did capture an alien.” His tone sounded like he was reasoning it out, it wasn’t a fact yet, but could be. Kaito’s hands fell to his sides and balled up in fists.“You happy now? Will you show me?” When he looked up Kokichi had his pointer finger to his lips, and tapped them thoughtfully. “I dunno, seems awfully convenient-like. What if you’re trying to steal my alien?” “I’m not gonna steal your alien!” “Okay, how about this,” Kokichi started, lowering his hand and pointing at Kaito. “You promise to close your eyes until I say you can open them again, that way I know you can’t steal my alien since you won’t know the way back!” His impish little grin returned. “Kaito Momota is no thief! I promise,” he declared, holding a fist to his chest and closing his eyes then and there. The smaller boy blinked. Right now? He waved a hand in front of the spiky haired boy, and no reaction. After a few more seconds, he added, “Well? Is this good?” Well, looks like we’re doing this. “Perfect!” Kokichi grabbed him by the wrist and took off in a run down the sidewalk. Behind him Kaito stumbled, his stupid flip-flops clattering as he tried to keep step. Despite his protests, when the leader peeked behind him the boy’s eyes were still scrunched tightly shut even whilst dragged. The two of them wove around pedestrians, the gremlin in front cackling with laughter at each time his blind passenger apologized for bumping one. He was oblivious to the disapproving looks the pair were receiving even with the attempted niceties. Kokichi stopped only once, to wait for the light to change for them to cross the street. He was not going to risk that, even if it’d be funny to see him jump at the car horns.They reached the park, and started across the grass, bouncing in springy steps. “Hey, where are we going?” “Shhhhh, you said you wouldn’t look!” “I’m not!” Kokichi yanked him towards the wooded area off to the side, and ducked, pulling him square into a low hanging branch. Face first Kaito bounced off it with a thwack! “OW!” “Aw okay, I believe you now, Kai-chan!” “YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!” His free hand covered his mouth to stifle a snicker, before chiming back innocently, “Did not~!” Then to the contrary of his claim, the boy pulled him through more leafy barricades, ignoring the sputtering and grumbles as he pulled him deeper into the woods. Carefully he picked his way past the bent hiking path sign, long overgrown and rusted over. Up the former path was the old forgotten rest point, a worn down brick building covered in graffiti and scratched odes to bad date nights in the woods for local teens. One last time, Kokichi checked to be sure that Kaito wasn’t looking, before speeding back up and taking him inside, tugging aside the makeshift curtain door where the old one was off its hinges. He stopped in the center of the little room, the place barely more than a shed in size but decked and done up in all his treasures, and released his captive’s wrist. Kaito’s arm dropped and his expression looked surprised a moment. “We’re here?” “That is classified information,” Kokichi tuts, as he quietly circled the other boy. He’d made it the whole way without peeking but… what now. Despite his claims, this liar was fresh out of extraterrestrials to materialize for this persistent space nerd. He was rich in plenty of other things though, from snacks to collectibles, from wires to plants. He glanced around then back to Kaito, standing there with his hands on his hips now, chin out and nose up, like a hero ready to be awarded some medal. So ridiculous. Then an idea struck, staring up at that face. Silently he crept to the side, to a potted houseplant, rescued from a windowsill one frosty morning, and plucked a big wet leaf. He shook it a bit, and then seemingly satisfied with it, snuck back towards his guest mischievously. Now this will do it! He took a step right in close to Kaito’s side and stuck the tip of the leaf right into his upturned nose. The reaction was instant. The yelp, the eyes opening and and the hands up to his face. “What the heck Kokichi?!” Luckily Kokichi expected that, and yanked it right back, dropped the leaf and stepped onto it. He put on a big pout. “You scared it away! I told you not to look ‘til I said so! Silly Kai-chan, the alien just wanted to probe you a bit! How rude of you.” “Rude of me? That was NOT an alien! What did you even-” He stopped, and blinked, finally seeing where they were. The little run down building was barely a shed, but it was stacked top to bottom with things. Kaito could see boxes upon boxes, and around them 7 different convenience store mascot standees, sticks of every shape and size, and the ceiling was strung with enough wind chimes and bells to make up a full percussion section. “WHOA. Where are we?” “Top Secret,” Kokichi said quickly, squinting at the other. “Alien confinement cell. You’re gonna need to replace it since you aided in the escape, you know.” The taller boy didn’t seem to hear him at all, walking towards the nearest box and rummaging through. Touching all of his things. It only took a moment for Kokichi to scurry over and grab him by the elbow before he could take out a toy race car fully. “Heeey paws off!” “You have so much stuff, is this like, your secret base?” “You don’t have the clearance to know that!” “Ah c’mon, Kokichi! Look, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Kaito said, dropping the car back in the box and turning to him all serious. There he went again, promising. The last one though, it had gone pretty well hadn’t it? The smaller boy’s expression changed, looking him over a long silent moment. “Fine, but I’m gonna have to swear you into secrecy. Can’t have all the inter-galactic secrets spread around school.” “AWESOME! You won’t regret it!” “Already do,” Kokichi lied with a dramatic sigh.

[bakutae]

bnha headcanons #5

today's menu:

a platter of bakugou katsuki, a drop of shouto todoroki and a pea sized aizawa shouta

scenario:

when a kid comes up and proposes to you

author's note (if any):

i did a shigaraki tomura, kaminari denki and hitoshi shinso version here check it out if you're interested!

bakugou katsuki

'oh my god katsuki what are you doing'

you stared at your boyfriend in disbelief, mouth dropping open at the peculiar sight in front of you

there katsuki was, tackling a poor child on the floor

he was almost thrice the size of the kid and for a moment you were worried that katsuki would accidentally strangle him

you snapped out of your shock and stepped in to help the kid

you were at the playground, with katsuki, and the two of you were on the swings, swinging gently with the help of the soothing wind

a kid was then pushed in front of you, with the help of his friends, who were giggling uncontrollably behind the slide, thinking thay they were hidden well

you rolled your eyes and smiled, he was so adorable, with his cheeks tinted red and black orbs casted downwards as he fumbled with the corner of his shirt

bakugou frowned instantly as he saw him, sensing that something was up

bakugou opened his mouth to say something but the kids behind the slide beat him by a second

'hey lady! he wants to marry you!'

the boy flinched at the remark and he slowly nodded, eyes squeezing shut as if to prepare himself for the result

before you could say anything, however, you saw a quick blur from the corner of your eye and within seconds, the kid was tackled by bakugou

the kids behind the slide screamed their heads off and ran away, screaming something that seemed like 'oh no! a monster has grabbed chiaki! runnnnn!'

which led you to this situation you had in front of you

you tried to tug at bakugou's sleeves, hoping that it'd snap him out of his obvious rage and it didn't work

the kid's face went pale, as he started to shake under bakugou's body pressure and fear

'you dare steal my woman away from me? you absolute piece of shit.' bakugou hissed into the boy's ear

'oh my god, for god's sake, are you really arguing and tackling a kid now?'

bakugou grumbled as he got off the kid, glaring at the kid

you bent towards the kid and stretched out a hand to help him get up

he didn't take it, simply looking at bakugou with evident fear in his gaze

he slowly stood up himself and you took back your hand from embarrassment

'are you okay?' you whispered, a look of pity in your eyes as little balls of tears began rolling down his cheeks

without saying a word, he ran away, crying all the while

you were left speechless, and you stood there for a while

'so, uh, y/n'

'don't you dare uh me right now bakugou katsuki. you know what you did.' you frowned at him

you weren't mad with him, you were just... disappointed?

bakugou and yourself knew that the kid meant no harm, besides, you were already his and you didn't see the need to react that way

but on the other hand, the fact that he reacted this way meant that he cared about you deeply and that made you happy

'look, y/n i'm sorry okay? please don't be upset now.' bakugou peered into your eyes, eyes tinted with a hint of worry and panic

you cracked a smile and pinched his nose admiringly

'i'm not upset, it's alright suki. but maybe next time, not so violent again alright?'

'hell no. there ain't going to be a next time on this shit.'

shouto todoroki

you and shouto had a date planned on a sunday afternoon and you were extremely excited

you were clad in a white dress and had a thin black belt comfortably hugging your waist; simple and stylish, exactly the way you liked it

unlike other girls, you didn't see the need to spend so much time to get ready for a date

the moment you peeked into your closet, fingertips trailing along the soft material of your clothes while humming a soft tune, fingers matching the beat

the moment you stopped humming, your finger followed and you pulled out the dress from the closet, a whiff of detergent caressing your nose

it just so happened to be a simple white dress, nothing too flattering about it and you instantly reached for a thin belt, knowing how that'd complete your look, adding a more feminine note to your vibe that day

therefore, you were early to that date, and waited for shouto

you didn't text him and tell him about your early arrival; since you didn't want him to rush when you were the one who arrived early in the first place

gazing down at your phone, you scrolled through your friends' instagram stories, occasionally smiling at the stupidity of your friends'

it was then you felt a slight, delicate hand tugging at your skirt

you tore your gaze off your phone and looked down, feeling anxious for some unknown reason

what you didn't know, was that shouto was a few metres away from you; he stopped walking when he saw the boy who tugged at your skirt

ngl he'd be wondering if that was your secret love child or smth KEIDNFJFI

he looked at you, eyes devoid of any emotion as he observed you

you bent down to see a boy, no older than six, holding a flower that seemed like he just picked from the bushes nearby

his big vibrant eyes shone with determination and you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair affectionately

yeah shouto was 50% sure he was your secret love child at this point

'h-hello, i want t-to tell you that i really l-like you a lot. p-please m-marry-'

'ding!'

your heart pounded as you looked at the boy, not knowing what to say to him, but the notification saved you from a potentially awkward situation

it was from shouto; 'i'm at the convenient store right now, do you mind if we met there instead?

you heaved a sigh of relief and slipped your phone into your slingbag and ruffled the boy's hair

'i need to go now, alright? see you!'

you watched as the boy's face slowly fell, but you briskly walked away before you could see his expression more clearly

when you met shouto at the convenient store, he was just standing there, occasionally turning his head left to right as if he's looking for you

when shouto caught sight of you, you walked towards him and threw yourself on him, arms circled around his waist as you buried yourself into his neck

shouto pulled away after a while

'so, y/n, was that your secret love child or something?'

'what?'

'that boy, that came up to you just now'

'you saw? why didn't you come and say something?'

'didn't want to ruin your reunion'

shouto pouted slightly and you couldn't help but smile

'aww shouto, don't worry, he's not my kid. the only person i'd have a child with is you'

'what?'

'what?'

'what?'

'let's go shouto!' you ran away from him, relishing in embarrassment, not believing that you really said that to him out loud

aizawa shouta

you and shouta had been together for quite some time, and shouta thought it was a great idea to play the marriage card

okok hear me out, shouta would make a cupcake, for the both of you, and in the icing will have the ring in it

he didn't really think of how it could go wrong and he really did think that it was a genius idea

so you two were hanging out, having a picnic in the park, relishing under the sun as the sunlight reflected into y'all's eyes

he brought out the cupcakes and you loved cupcakes, and spent no time waiting for him and you licked the tip of the frosting off the cupcake

that's when a two kids, both opposite gender, came up to you and stood in front of you, facing away from each other

'hey lady, why did my boyfriend say that he wanted to marry you?'

you were caught off guard and you blinked once, staring at the kids with a blank look in your eyes

'it's cause she's way prettier than you! and more nicer too! at least she doesn't talk like you do!' the boy replied, rolling his eyes at the girl

'fine! i don't want to be your girlfriend anymore! not even your friend! bye!'

the girl left so abruptly and you slowly looked at shouta, who was equally as confused as you were

now that the girl had left, the boy shot you a smile, and pulls out a toy ring

'she's gone! now miss, please-'

'shouta?!'

shouta had used his quirk and carried the boy all the way to the other side and roughly plopped him onto the ground

'aww shouta, are you jealous that someone else proposed to me first?'

'yes, i am. now what about it? shut up and eat your cupcake' his gruff, somewhat monotone voice cracking a little

you grinned knowingly and you bit into the cupcake

you were almost half way done when you saw something in the icing

'oh my god shouta there's something in my cupcake'

'i know, now continue eating it, theres a surprise inside the icing'

you squinted your eyes and took a closer look at it

it moved.

'oh my god why is the thing in my icing moving shouta'

'what?'

shouta picked up the cupcake and took a closer look at it

turns out, that some bugs had crawled inside the icing and found a safe place to stay; your supposed ring

you took the cupcake from shouta, ready to throw it out when he stopped you

he wasn't about to let you throw away the ring that he took months to save up for

as gross as it was, he forced himself to dig out the ring, which was covered in bugs, some even crawling up shouto's arm

'is that a...ring?'

'uh no? yes? maybe?'

'awww shoutaaa that's such a cute way to propose, too bad the bugs ruined it though'

'who said i was going to propose to you? the ring is in the cupcake, i proposed to the cupcake'

you grinned, watching in admiration as shouta grumbled away to wash the ring off throughly

maybe next time, shouta. maybe next time.

taglist: @bnha-homeroom

[cyndecreativity]

Day 1 - Competitive? Me?

Journey – Winning a teddy for the other – “I need you”

Set in the Zodiac Chronicles world.

 Alden and Idania head to the Scorpio Festival. Idania asks him to win a prize for her and he obliges, but it’s not the biggest prize. He can’t let that slide.

~2400 words

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Festivals happened in every month in Lotuserna, for every Patron or Matron Spirit of whatever Constellation. Alden had to make an appearance at the Scorpio festival, of course, and he grew tired of the annual event. Loud, smelly, made his chest hurt, there were too many people, and any number of other issues. The only saving grace for him lie with the foods. He loved fried and handheld foods, the kind served in abundance at the festivals. Most Scorpio knew this and every year the number of stalls with a new fried food opened to try to set themselves up until next year with the patronage of the Scorpio prince.

For Idania, she loved the festivals every month, allowed to go to every one at the orphanage to celebrate the Spirits of abandoned children, to allow them time to have fun and feel like kids for at least one night. The festivals usually lasted a weekend, but the orphanage could only afford the one night. Being able to experience the joy with each new child that rolled through the orphanage gave Idania a lifelong appreciation for the festivals. The games changed, the festivals updated, the prizes stayed with some kids long after they left for forever homes. Idania racked up quite a few that she gave away to those leaving. She’d get one next year, she told them.

Many years had passed since she last said those words. Many years filled with uncertainty and harm, hope and love, damage and scars. Antares lit up with torches and candle lamps, streams of flags and wings and lizard tails, stalls selling fried foods, portable foods, toys and trinkets. It almost made her forget the pain as Alden led her through the courtyard, his right arm in a fancy leather sling that covered the entire necrotic limb. He had to maintain the façade of royal perfection. Sylvain hadn’t been allowed to leave the palace in months as the Capricorn struggled to return him to normal. The scars left on him by the years persisted, much to the Empress’s tremendous disappointment.

Idania kept to Alden’s left side, more used to the sight of her own failure on his right, but the constant reminder of what she’d done haunted her quietly every day. He jostled her slightly when he excitedly pointed to the menu of a food stall, asking if she had interest in fried potatoes or some new flavor of beer. She hated alcohol, but she loved food just as much. They would grab a waxed paper container and he held it as they wandered further.

At one stall, she stopped in the middle of the promenade, a stick of grilled meat halfway to her mouth. He took several steps before recognizing her absence and stopped to turn around.

He made his way back to her and grabbed another fried potato with his left hand. “You okay?”

She gestured with the stick of meat to a stall across from her. “There’s prizes there.”

He turned around to follow her stick of meat. “There sure are.”

She hesitated. With his right arm, the dominant arm, in a sling, he would have difficulty attempting the game. But part of her, a childish part, an irrational part, she knew, wanted him to win it for her. Her lips pressed together and she nodded slightly. She took a few steps away.

“Whoa, hey, waitaminute.” He swept his left arm forward at her. She stopped and retraced her steps immediately. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Did you want one?”

He would tell her later that her face lit up brighter than any star in the sky, her eyes filled with firelight, her tail shot up to allow her muzzle to jingle behind her head. But she simply smiled and nodded. “If you think you can. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Or your mother to get upset if you use your… other arm.”

He pulled a face and wiped his hand on his thigh. “Fuck her. You’re my kelara. You want me to win you something? I’ll win you something.”

Crimson crept over her cheeks as she followed him over to the stall. He stood back and watched a few other patrons attempt the game, a dagger-throw. The operator rotated a disk that sent a set of targets shifting back and forth. The difficult and highest scoring targets lie in the back, obscured by two rows of lower scoring targets. With a high enough score, the winner chose a prize among what the stall had to offer.

After several moments, Alden pulled the strap of his sling off and looked to her. His brow furrowed and he dropped the fancy leather to the ground. “Evening! How much for a try?”

The stall owner started at the blackened flesh of Alden’s right arm, lined by veins of blue magic, then drew back in recognition of his prince. His tail, muzzled simply, quivered behind his head. “Your Highness! Ah- For you-“

Alden lifted his right arm, it being dominant, and shook his head. “You have to make a living too. Now, how much?”

The man furrowed his brow and looked to the other operator. His friend shrugged and continued encouraging his customers. “Uh, 2 Lotus per try. You get 6 daggers. And each score tier earns you a different prize. They’re all organized by shelf up here.” He turned slightly and gestured. “Lowest scores on the bottom, highest are hanging up there.”

Her prince reached into his money pouch and dropped 3 Lotus on the bar. “6 daggers, and a tip for you folks.”

The man started to protest again, but Alden shook his head. The 6 daggers were set in front of him. The other customers still had 4 daggers to use, which meant they had to wait. The Scorpio behind the counter apologized profusely, but the prince shrugged. His tail curled a bit as he picked them up, weighed them, and rotated his shoulders with gentle pops. He tested them out a bit, held them by the point and the pommel, going through the motions of throwing without release.

Idania beamed, her nose tickled, eyes watering. A strange kind of warm joy filled her, an overwhelming of emotions that left her wanting to cry. She sniffled and slid a bit of meat off the stick. Kelara. She wondered if she would ever get used to him calling her that. He did it with such reverence, such affection, such absolute certainty.

The other operator rang the bell and pulled a prize off one of the lower shelves for the other customer. The man tending them nodded and moved to the gear at his end and gestured to Alden. The prince moved into position at the center and nodded his readiness.

Alden held up a dagger, ready to throw. The targets started to move ever so slowly. After a moment or two, the Scorpio prince straightened up. He shot a look to the man turning the gear. His face scrunched in an awkward smile and he turned faster, his tail shaking behind him. Idania’s muzzle jingled slightly as Alden leaned forward, his tail lifted for balance.

THUNK

The first one hit a target in the middle. Alden swore quietly.

“Oh! Good opening shot, sir! Good try!” The other operator clapped for a moment, going through the motion of hype for a customer.

Idania quietly congratulated her prince.

THUNK

The next landed in another in the front. Alden swore again, louder this time.

“Oooo! Too bad! Still points though!” No claps this time, their voice still deadpan.

THUNK

“Ay! Big Lotus!” The other operator clapped again, more genuine with their praise. “Can he do it again?”

Idania squealed.

THUNK

“Another good hit, sir!” The one turning the wheel congratulated his customer as Alden hit another target in the final row.

Idania looked at the prizes. At least 2 backline targets had to be worth something good.

THUNK

Whud

A very loud curse erupted from the prince, startling all parties around him, including a few festival-goers as they wandered by.

“That’s 3 backlines, a mid, a front, and a fall! Good job, sir! You have your choice of any on the lower shelves.” The operator at the front gestured lazily to the lower shelves.

Alden furrowed his brow. “Lowest? Why the lower shelves?”

The first operator rushed over to them and waved his hands. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Three backlines gets you the highest shelf-“

The other operator, brow furrowed, tilted their head. “But they lose points when the dagger falls.”

Jittery, as Alden would call him later, slapped his colleague on the arm. “But not for The Prince.”

The colleague, whom Alden dubbed Themby, furrowed their brow.

Alden dug into his pocket and pulled out three more Lotus coins. “Idania, go ahead and pick a prize while I try again.”

She shook her head. “Highness, it’s not necessa-“

He slapped the coins down. “6 more daggers please.”

Hours later, Idania stood next to a small pile of toys and dolls, the leather sling resting on the stall’s counter beside her, the trash from the portable food balled up behind the counter, having fallen there when Alden slammed coins down. She knew she should be worried, try to force him to stop, but she also knew he wouldn’t until he reached some conclusion for himself. Either failing enough to reach a critical point of frustration, or winning at least once. Either way, the pile of toys and dolls could be given away by the prince, a donation to an orphanage of choice, goodwill to the people, something he was already known for. And she could keep one or two to remember.

A small crowd of people had gathered to watch the commotion, Alden forced to stand by and watch another patron try their hand to varying success. Sometimes Idania would even offer one of the dolls to someone that lost, a consolation for a loss. The children frequently skipped away with a thank you and the parents would smile their thanks with that exhausted grateful desperation she recognized from the exhausted orphan matrons.

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

Idania lifted her gaze from one of the toys and looked up for the result. The other three gawped at all the daggers in the backline. A cheer rose from the crowd.

Alden narrowed his eyes. “That’s got to be worth something good, right?”

Themby looked between the prince and Jittery. “There’s no rules for a full win.”

Jittery laughed once and gestured above. “How about two grand prizes, then?”

Idania giggled as Alden lifted his mouth in such a way to make his facial hair stick straight out. He gestured to one large soft-looking doll. “That one.”

Jittery pulled his chair over and climbed up to cut the doll down. He handed it to Themby who placed it on the counter. “What else, Your Highness?”

He furrowed his brow and looked to Idania. “Anything specific you want?”

She looked at his vibrant red eyes, still fired up from his long struggle to win any big prize for her, and she smiled. “Just you.”

His eyes narrowed, his mind still in the competition. He nodded slightly. “I love you, too. But which one do you want?”

She sighed and scanned over the dolls that hung. She eventually settled on one particularly iridescent serpent. “That one.”

The others all followed her finger. “That one?” She nodded. Jittery cut it down and handed it to Themby, as before. Jittery hopped down from the chair and smiled to the prince. “Once again, congratulations, Your Highness. Would you like to play again?”

Before Alden could think too hard about it, Idania swept in to scoop the serpent and the tiger off the bar. “Thank you so much for your hard work.” She tugged Alden by the arm to the pile of things he had won, away from the temptation of more dagger throwing.

Jittery followed them over to the edge of the stall. “Oh, I didn’t even notice you had won so many things! We… We didn’t really anticipate this situation. Would you like me to go find a bag?”

Alden looked at the pile of stuffed things and then to the sling. He squinted. “Maybe not.”

He picked up the sling and started to shove and cram all the smaller toys and dolls into it. After a few moments, the leather sling with elegant embossments hung at his side, filled to the brim with all manner of child toys and dolls. Idania stood beside him, holding the two grand prizes.

Jittery raised his eyebrows. “Well! You two look all set.”

Idania thanked him and Alden raised his left hand as they turned away. A few more steps down the lane and Alden heaved a heavy sigh. His shoulders released a bit of tension and he shook his head. “By Scorpius, I’m tired.”

She chuckled. “I daresay we should get you back to the palace. If for no other reason than your arm is exposed.”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what my mother is so worried about. It may not look pretty, but it works just fine.”

She shrugged as they wandered through the festival stalls. “I think that’s exactly what she’s worried about, the not pretty part. You’re still royalty and in order to maintain power, she has to maintain the appearance of strength and authority. And if you look like that,” she gestured toward his necrotic arm, “then others may view that as a sign of weakness.”

He groaned. “I hate this. I hate the posturing and the politics. I almost wish I had just… stayed lost.”

Idania stiffened. Memories of those years tickled at the edges of her mind, the journey she had been forced to go through after the incident. “But you don’t, do you?”

The gentle crunch of rocks against sand stopped. She turned around to him, attempting and failing to school her features into a gentle smile of a mask. He searched her eyes and lifted his hand, the veins of magic glowing a brighter purple as they moved to brush her cheek. The skin felt cold against hers, but she moved into his hand despite this.

“Of course I don’t. I’m sorry I said that.” He moved to press a kiss to her forehead. “As much as I hate the court, I love you more. I need you.”

She beamed.

“But, I also need to relieve myself-“

She groaned. “Again?”

[tacitusauxilium]

A continuation of THIS Drabble I received:

Fuuka/Shinjiro feels because I CANNOT LEAVE THAT ON A CLIFF HANGER.

After having a day or two to have her emotions and feelings settled down, Fuuka hesitantly texted Shinjiro. She knew she had to talk to him because if she didn’t, Marie might possibly push her back to his apartment and keep the shenanigans going. Luckily, his apartment wasn’t too far away—just a train ride and in just a few minutes she was at his door.

She knew he would be expecting her, and yet she was terrified. Fuuka knew what was going to happen—she could already see it happening. Before she could knock, the door swung open to Shinjiro eyeing his girlfriend. Fuuka, while she only saw him just a few days ago, showed worry in her eyes as she could see the weight loss he was going through. Compared to what he looked like last year to now: it was evident that he wasn’t going to last.

And that terrified Fuuka to death.

So, after a few awkward moments, and Fuuka just trying her hardest to resist kissing his cheek, she took a step forward. “May I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

Shinjiro moved out of her way, gesturing her in with his arm, as she walked in carefully and waited for him to close the door. “Did you want something to drink?” Shinjiro slowly asked, knowing that was the least he could ask her. He could feel the tension was already squeezing his throat tightly.

Fuuka shook her head, keeping herself standing right beside him. She gripped the handle of her messenger bag. “I will try to be quick. Because, the faster I say this, the faster I can leave.” She leaned against the wall that lead towards the kitchen—everything was oddly organized and yet, she felt like it was missing something: life. A reason to live.

Even after she had rehearsed her words while laying in bed last night, she felt herself getting anxious all of a sudden. So, to cut the tension with a knife, Shinjiro crosses his arms and spoke first: “You are breaking up with me.”

Those words were like the axe that Shinjiro used in battle and cut her in half. She lowered her head and knew she had to speak or Shinjiro would over power her. “Yes. I am. A-and...I have had a hard time coming to terms with you a-accepting death.” She began, her heart already aching and her voice shaking, itching for tears to fall out. Shinjiro made sure tissues were near by—it seemed that he was always alert and prepared for everything.

“I-I know it’s your body. I have no right in saying what you should do or not do with it. But,” she looked up at him, their eyes pained with realization, “g-god, Shinjiro, I just wanted someone to love. A-and I loved you too much to l-let you go.”

Shinjiro felt his eyes softening, knowing that Akihiko and Mitsuru would already accepting of the fact—granted, Mitsuru was quicker than Akihiko was, but he knew Fuuka would take longer than Akihiko. He closed his eyes, waiting for the slap. And yet, it never came.

Fuuka sniffed her nose, tears slowly falling from her eyes and cascading down her cheek and on to the floor below. “I-I have wanted s-someone to fill the emptiness inside of my soul. Someone wh-who would love me and show me that I have a-a place to belong—and I ached for that feeling. I know that it took me a good month or two to finally get over Minato’s death. Because you were there with me. A-and...”

She looked up at him, a bit relieved she didn’t wear make up today, and wiped the tears away from her eyes. “How d-dare you make me fall in love with you! Why did you h-have to be so damn kind—!” Fuuka moved towards Shinjiro, her hands balling up into fists, as she weakly beat her hand on his chest—her right and then her left. “—wh-why did you have to show me p-pure kindness? Wh-why did you toy with my feelings?!”

Shinjiro knew the punches were going to come out, but she wasn’t giving it her all. She wasn’t putting force behind those punches. And he knew she could give someone a hell of a good punch—he believed Akihiko taught her what to do with a punch, and that was a big mistake. The sobs were loud, painful, and miserable for Shinjiro. It was like he was being shot all over again.

“Was I a toy to you?”

Shinjiro watched as Fuuka’s hands stopped pounding his chest as she kept her head down. He was a bit speechless as he knew she meant sexually as well. He sighed and shook his head. “Fuuka,” he had to word his words carefully or this would be disastrous, “I know that you enjoyed the sex as much as I did. But, I would never use you like that.”

Fuuka felt herself cooling down a little, but tears still fell from her eyes. Shinjiro continued slowly. “This might sound selfish on my part, but I wanted to be sure that I prepared you for your next lover—male or female. I know that I could never give you the satisfaction of having and raising a family. I wanted to make sure you were...”

Shinjiro let out a “fuck” from his lips as he felt himself holding back tears himself. He bit his lip and couldn’t leave Fuuka hanging. “I might be your first, but I wanted to make sure you were able to keep your next boyfriend satisfied and happy. Because I know you did one hell of a job being the best girlfriend for me—helping me from my bed, making me food, watching over me—and you should never, EVER think of yourself as a failure.”

And that was when Fuuka pulled Shinjiro into one of the tightest hugs she could ever give to him. The sob she was holding back came out tenfold as she could feel her body shaking. She was beginning to wonder if Marie legit talked to Shinjiro before she could—if that was the case, she’d be pissed, but a bit thankful that she could easily start this confrontation off. But, the fact that Shinjiro was going all out, to just simply prepare her for the future, where he wasn’t going to see her get married and have kids—it ached her heart. It felt like something was squeezing her heart.

“You know I was damaged goods the moment I lost control of Castor all those years ago.” Shinjiro mentioned as Fuuka looked up at him. God, her face was an absolute wreck. He reached down, wiping her tears away with the tip of his thumb, and sighed softly. “Marie has mentioned to you those words, right? She is right, and you need to accept that, Fuuka.” Fuuka nodded. “You have everyone here to help you move on.”

“I-I know,” Fuuka whispered as she just stared up at him, “I’ve...gotten stronger, right?”

Shinjiro chuckled as he poked her cheek. “Put more ‘emph’ begins your punches and ‘maybe’ you will be on par with Iori.”

“Oh, I have to be stronger than Junpei!”

“You are a bit stronger than Takeba, though.”

“Oooo—don’t tell her that!”

A laugh escaped their lips as it felt like they were back in high school, before their relationship really grew into something. But, it seemed to went down hill the moment Shinjiro’s prognosis was brought up. Shinjiro was always prepared for anything—always, and he always got that habit from Fuuka. And yet, this was something she couldn’t grasp for a while.

“Fuuka.”

Shinjiro’s spoke her name, filled with sorrow and sadness, as he carefully pulled her away from his chest. He craved the warmth, the smile she gave—and the laugh!—but knew he couldn’t get attached. Not again. He just started to burn bridges and this was one of his last ones.

“Shinjiro.”

“Can I kiss you? Just... one last time?”

She wasn’t expecting that. Out of all the arguments they had, the tears she’d, and the slaps thrown in Shinjiro’s face—this made her almost shy away immediately. Of course, Fuuka wouldn’t object to something like this. Why would she? She still loved him, romantically, and didn’t care. She would do anything for him, even if he never returned the feeling back.

It’s funny. She was used to unrequited love with Junpei, and then Minato dying before they could advance their relationship further, and now...with Shinjiro, she thought her luck would turn out to be good. And after all of this, bad luck seemed to fucked her more.

“Please.” Fuuka begged silently as she knew this was going to be the last time they kissed. She knew the moment Shinjiro gently pushed her up against the wall, her bag falling to the ground, as she felt herself getting nervous once again. But, the uneasiness washed away the moment their lips locked. Her fingers running through his hair; his fingers removed the hair tie to her braid, as Fuuka could feel her hair cascading down her shoulders.

They both knew they should stop. That they would both fall in love once more and again. But, they were human and they both made another mistake of kissing each other. She felt his hands going up her dress, as Fuuka joined in as she reached for his beanie, gripped it and tossed it aside. They haven’t been intimate in months. Shinjiro was searching for the life he was craving to live for inside of Fuuka, whereas Fuuka was just trying to push the life inside of him.

One way or another, it ended with Fuuka on his couch and Shinjiro on top of her. The only noises filling up the room was their lips softly smacking against one another. It was like Fuuka was in a dream where Shinjiro was healthy, that this was the chance to make a family—and yet, Shinjiro eyed Fuuka with sorrowfilled eyes.

I shouldn’t lead her on like this.

He silently thought as he moved his body up and away from her. Fuuka’s ankles were already wrapped around his waist, haphazardly, as she stopped trying to reach out for him. The silence between them both was deafening. Fuuka took a moment to observe her surroundings, and realizing that Shinjiro had his shirt off—and her heart dropped. She could see how much weight he lost, almost close to the point she could see his ribs. Fuuka felt like this was a slap to her face. She felt tears stinging her eyes again, covering her eyes with one of her arms.

“Fuuka. We need to stop. The passion is there, but the love isn’t.” He stated as Fuuka began nodding. He got up slowly, once he removed her ankles from his waist, and turned to reach for his sweatshirt. He looked like a damned skeleton, who hasn’t eaten in weeks. Shinjiro wouldn’t admit it, but Fuuka’s cooking was better than his currently. He felt his shoulders sinking as he looked at Fuuka and her half naked body.

Her dress was laying on the ottoman he bought with his own money, her hair was a mess, her body laced with hickeys, her tights sliding off of her hips, and yet—he hated that he couldn’t love her like she loved him. Shinjiro felt sick to his stomach. “I’m going...to go shower. Stay here as long as you need—leave when you are ready.” He uttered, holding his turtleneck shirt over his shoulder and walked towards the bathroom, leaving Fuuka alone to digest everything that happened.

It took until Shinjiro started the shower where Fuuka began to reach for her bag, knowing her phone has to be there. She knew if she messaged Marie right now, and told her where she was, she probably will get slapped or yelled at. But, nothing could compare to the pain she saw Shinjiro in. Fuuka remembered something that Marie told her, after she told her she was a goddess. And now, she wanted to see if she could actually grant her the most selfish wish to ask for.

Luckily, she picked up on the first ring:

“Marie? It’s Fuuka. Can you come get me? I...I am at Shinjiro’s. And...I NEED you to do something for me.”

[handmadecp]

Western Gun Rig.

Hi, I’ve been busy doing all the bags and pouches, book covers etc that I have previously posted all of which can be located on my Blog ‘Beginners Journey into LeatherCraft’ in the archive. So, what’s this about a Western Gun Rig I hear you ask, Well, the Big Kid inside me has come out after watching some of the fast draw videos on YT. and I’ve made me a ‘Cowboy Belt’. Unfortunately I’m making it in the UK, one of the most strict places on the planet against firearms so I have had to make it ‘very’ clear that what you see are ‘Props’, nothing more than replicas with zero chance of anything going Bang because basically..it’s a Toy used to help me in the build. So lets get on, hope you enjoy.

The first thing I needed was a Replica of a Pistol that I fancied making the holster for. I looked online and settled on the ‘Single Action’ Colt ‘Army’ .45 (Short barrel) and a handful of Dummy rounds for the belt.. Not cheap but it was needed..as an actual ‘toy’ pistol wouldn’t have the weight or the bulk of this.

I also needed a pattern so I purchased the  Holster and Gun belt pattern pack from Tandy leather. As you can see..it looks a bit complicated, but we have a saying in the UK..’Give it a coat of Looking at’...and after 3 cups of tea and many coats of looking at I finally realised how simple it really was. So I chose which belt I wanted to make from the ‘several’ that are here and started cutting.

Following the pattern guides I used a sheet of paper laid the gun as shown along the fold line

Then I dropped it down to the Right side and drew around the Pistol as seen here, to the ‘right’ allows for a Right handed draw. if for a left hander...just go to the left, all other instructions are the same.

The basic holster pattern is done.

I use anything to hand that will give me the curves I want on the holster and after getting the basic shape you can use a bit of artistic licence to get it how you want it, but there has to be enough to actually hold the pistol in so don’t cut too much away. there is a quite slim looking piece to the pattern on the front, top left...I worried it was too thin but as the project progresses it looks less of a weak spot.

I chose to use the same 3.5-4mm leather for the Holster as well as the belt. next time I would definately choose maybe 2.5-3mm as..although it came out beautiful It is quite a heavy holster and when you consider the weight of leather in the belt plus a Solid Brass Buckle plus a Pistol ‘and’ 24 Dummy rounds...it makes for quite a weight so next time I will ‘save’ weight where I can without giving away quality or looks though.

I used the template / pattern I made to cut out the leather as seen here. A quick tip: When I forst started I was going through Stanley blades really fast...now I ‘Use jewellers rouge and strop’ them and one blade is lasting me at least a month and its so easy to do.

Here I’m ‘dampening’ the Leather ready to Burnish the edges. Don’t soak it or it will go to mush when you burnish. if you over wet it by mistake just wait for it to dry out a bit and carry on.

I did use my machine to Burnish most of the edges but had to revert back to the old wooden burnisher for the harder to reach places.

I cut a ‘Welt’ as I would for a knife sheath, it does protect the stitching but in this case it also helps to create space for the pistol. See here I have used 528 contact cement from EVO STICK and have put glue on both pieces...waited for it to get ‘tacky’ before sticking in place.

I glued it one side at a time, don’t try to glue and stick both sides at the same time, I was reliably informed by a very experienced gunbelt maker that if you do...it can cause all kinds of problems...if you get it out of line and the contact cement touched...it sticks fast.

Also, as I was sticking it along one edge I left it ‘proud’ of the edge as seen in this pic’ by an 1/8th or so...for sanding later.

Transferring a pic of some Oak leaves and acorns to the holster after dampening it. You can do any design you please or leave it plain. more on this later.

Cut out the pattern for the Belt part of the build. I used 3.5 - 4mm thick veg tan leather, By the end of this I found that this is ideal for the Belt itself and with all the manipulation during the build  by the finish it was very supple, far different to what I began with.

After drawing the outline with a Paint pen refil, (which comes of easily ) I wet / dampened the leather and used a ball point tracing tool to go over the design lines pressing to leave the imprint in the leather. I chose to do everything as it came on the pattern but you can choose sections...it’s your choice. I then put on the soft cotton glove and started the carving with the swivel knife. Some of you know but for those who don’t, I wear the glove to prevent my nails dragging on the leather leaving marks, it’s a tiny detail but adds a little extra professionalism not having nail ‘dents’ everywhere.

Pattern cutting almost done..

Next I used the beveler to make the design more pronounced from the leather.

A good Tip...I made a ‘shot’ bag from suede..filled with lead shot, it’s great for holding the leather still whilst tooling.

don’t forget to cover the back in the decorators paper tape before tooling to minimise stretching.

I chose for myself, to ‘stipple’ the background. When doing leather crafting, you start with an idea but that idea swaps and changes as you go along and in my mind I felt it would look good once all the dying and polishing was done.

The outline beveling is done and the back ground stippling is well under way.

The long blank area at the bottom of the belt is the area I will put the Dummy rounds.

These next few pics show the detailing going on, making the leaves and flowers etc stand out more.

Next I punched the holes I need to put the strap through to hold the ‘Rounds’ then I threaded them to see which particular style of threading I wanted. This way looks good but only allows me to put twelve rounds on the belt.

patterns for the buckle strap and the belt holes strap.

Here you can see the pattern piece I used to trace and then cut these belt end pieces.

Beautiful Handcrafted solid brass buckle.

here you see the Buckle strap cut out edged and burnished with a decorative line added around the edge and a Solid Brass Buckle I had made for this project from some guys who make them by hand.

Notice here how I have changed the strapping style to a much tighter closer look, this allowed me to put 24 rounds on instead of only twelve and I feel it’s a much nicer look.

Ok so now we’re back to the holster. The tracing and transfer of the design is the same as with the belt design and a very easy thing to pick up, takes a little practice as with anything but beginners will soon get better with practice on old scraps, I developed my technique by carving coasters for friends and family.

A good view here of the swivel knife cutting, almost finished cutting the oak leaves and acorns in. you can also see a decorative / stitch line around the edge. looking back I discovered it would be better to leave the decorative / stitch line until I’m done sanding edges as I took off so much it left the line slightly closer to some of the edges, luckily this was on the back of the holster out of sight...lesson learned.

The Welt, used for a couple of things, one ...to protect the stitching and two..to give more space for the Pistol.

Here the Welt is glued to one side, better I’m told by a very experienced gun belt maker because if you try to stick both sides at the same time it can go very wrong as the contact cement...once it touches..sticks. You can also see the very soft 1mm leather I chose for the liner, I’m told the liner is to prevent the tougher veg tan flesh side taking the coating off the gun over time.

Here I’m gluing the backing to the holster and trimming. I glued the holster to an oversized piece to make it easier not to have to line up the edges. easier to cut later.

Here you can see that I have left the Welt sticking slightly proud of the edge to make the sanding easier later.

Dampening the dges ready to burnish.

I had to carefully use a sharp blade to get the welt off so that i could put the liner on and roll it down, but it was simple enough toglue back on. Some of you may notice that the actual holster changes half way through the pics, that’s because I got tired and made a left hand holster instead of the right and had to change it.....it’s such an addictive craft that you fail to notice the time sometimes, it gets late and mistakes start to happen.

Ok, so here ‘s the first fitting. I loaded up some dummy rounds in the strap ( I still have no idea what that bit’s called lol.) to see if I was getting the fit right. very pleased by this point. I will say that this is a lot of work, so maybe not for a complete novice to try right away but after a few months of learning the basics you (anyone) should be ok to give it a go. I like how the color looks too but ultimately I’m looking to make it more ‘worn’ and antiqued looking. also, if you have a leather stitching machine you can do your stitching quicker, but I like the look of hand stitched so thats what I did.

The dummy rounds strap is missing a few here, I was waiting on a delivery of more rounds.

here are a few of the tools I used, Dividers, stitch groover and two sizes of bevellers.

Gluing down the other side of the holster.

I used Fiebings Walnut Pro dye on the inner liner to help it match the rest later.

note how much thicker the holster is after gluing the Welt in. I used my sanding machine to smooth down the excess over hang I left earlier.

Note the left handed holster ..I’ll use that on another belt. Here I’m Walnut dying  the bullet strap, the buckle strap and the belt extension strap.

Dying the inner liner.

Time to dye the Holster, using Walnut and following it with a coat of eco flo dark brown antique dye.

Once dyed the belt and holster need to be darkened off so that it ages the look of the belt. I used Eco Flo Dark Brown antique dye.

Note how much darker the holster is now after the antique dye has been added compared to the belt.

I decided to add line 27 snap studs to the back of the holster to be able to change it out for bigger holsters / pistols if required. The dye came out great and after the antique it polished up very well. Also..though it’s not intended for it...it turns out the antique works great for darkening and polishing the edges. I didn’t use edge kote as I personally don’t like the look. Just a personal choice, maybe you’ll like it...try it on scrap first.

Test fitting.

The straps were then dyed to match and burnished, ready to fit to the main belt.

Meet ‘Ken’ our model.

Loving the match with the dye.

I was advised to use an oval hole punch as it doesn’t get mishapen as quickly as a round hole. I now use this on all my belts and straps.

I always use the Evo Stick 528 contact cement if possible, be warned though this stuff..once cured..will really stick and if you are not lined up..you have a problem, it’s good stuff. Not necessary as I only need to attach the strap long enough to hold it in place whilst I Hand stitch it, but I always think..”Why not”..it just makes the whole thing that bit stronger.

Again with 528 glue for the Buckle strap. I used a leather ‘rougher’ to create grip for the glue but you can do it with a scratch awl or other sharpish object.

The straps are glued, here I’m making the stitch holes I used a 4mm.

On to the Hand stitching using a Saddle stitch and a Dark Brown waxed thread.

What follows from this point is a lot of extra pics showing off the almost finished belt, You can see I’ve added the Brass buckle, very simple, if you are more than a novice you will be aware how this is done, if you are new to leather craft you will find lots of pics in the archive showing how to do this.

All that’s left to do now are fiddly bits. To burnish the edges of the main belt, very easy to do as I decided ‘not’ to add a ‘Liner’ to the main belt...the reason?...well the holes I cut for the ‘Rounds’ strap were a tiny bit close to the edge of the belt and I didn’t feel there would be enough material stuck in that area, hence my decision. lesson learned for my next one. I said four and a half years ago when I began my ‘journey’ that I would mention any issues or mistakes I make in the hopes that you might avoid doing the same thing...that was not so much a mistake...as I followed the pattern..but I learned that not all patterns are exact and I will adjust this area next time.

I also need to add some lace in these two holes to pull over the Pistol ‘Hammer’ to prevent the gun falling out of the holster whilst the ‘Cowboy’ / ‘Cowgirl’ is running or rolling around and to add a longer lace to the back bottom edge to use as a leg tie.

Excuse ken, he’s a slim kinda guy and it’s falling off him...oh well. lol. But I’m Loving this thick strap with the hand made solid brass buckle.

The lace over the ‘Hammer’ and the leg tie.

Annnnd..that’s a Wrap folks, What a great project this was, I would recommend having a go, maybe not for a complete beginner.....not that you couldn’t do it if you took it slow but it’s expensive to make, especially if you need to buy the replica and the dummy rounds and to make mistakes on expensive leather can ruin your day. I’ve learned a lot making this and I will improve again on the next one but I am more than happy with my first ever attempt, I’m looking forward to the next one. I hope this might encourage some of you to try your hand at leather craft. For those who aren’t already aware there are many more  project build alongs in the archive of my Blog ‘Beginners Journey into Leathercraft’ . Watch this space, good luck with your own Projects and Stay safe...Stay Crafty.

[barpurplewrites]

Down like the eight-ball

WovenLace Lemons. Took me ages, but I got there, so yay me. Enjoy.

-x-x-x-

Lacey is queen of the pool table.

-x-x-

The eight-ball dropped into the top pocket with a satisfying clunk. The loser groaned but shook the winner’s hand with good grace. Lacey grinned and plucked the bills from the edge of the table. Another twenty bucks, she was doing well tonight. She tucked the money into the pocket of her shirt and looked around at the crowd.

“Who’s next?”

Everyone shook their heads. Lacey had been queen of the pool table since half six and it was now come up for nine o’clock. She’d beaten all the regulars tonight, some students from the local college, and a couple of off-duty coppers.

Keith oiled his way to the front of the crowd; “Come on guys, someone’s got to be able to beat her.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. Keith had been running side bets on her games all night, just like he did every week. It wound her up because he was always going on about what a good team they made, and how they’d made a great team in other ways. He was a total sleaze, Lacey would rather give up all sex, including her vibrator, than sleep with him. She’d lost track of how many times she’d told him no. At this point she was ready to whack him with a pool cue, maybe a few good bruises would get the message through his thick skull.

Weaver swigged back the last of his scotch and rose from his seat; “I’ll give you a game, Lacey.”

Laughter erupted from Keith and his cronies. Weaver had never beaten Lacey on a Friday night, he’d not even come close. The odd thing was he was good at pool, very good. On the odd evening Roni decided to let a few folks stay for a lock-in Weaver had easily won. She’d asked him about it and he’d just shrugged. There’d been a gleam of mischief in his eyes, that she’d found far too damn attractive. As he sauntered across to the pool table, casually flipping off Keith and his buddies, the gleam was back.

She gave him a smirk as he lay a twenty on the table and chalked up his cue; “Feeling confident tonight Weaver?”

“I shouldn’t be according to Nott’s odds.”

The little wink only she saw clued her into his plan. Weaver was going to bring his A-game, and judging by the money changing hands, Keith was going to end up out of pocket.

“You never know, luck might be a lady for you tonight, but you’ll have to work for it.”

He leaned in close; “I never mind working hard for a lady.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. Flirting was normally reserved for their lock-in games, well that wasn’t going to be a hardship for her. She picked up the nickel from the edge of the table; “You want to toss?”

He snorted and took the coin from her finger-tips. It twinkled in the air before he slapped it down on the table; “Call?”

“Always got to be head.”

“Heads it is. You take the break.”

Lacey leaned over the table to line up her shot. As they had done all night Keith and the rest of idiot’s corner started whistling and making comments about her arse. They were easy to tune out, and since she’d stomped on Charlie’s foot last week when he tried to get handsy, they all kept their distance.

Weaver hissed through his teeth as she made the break and sank a stripe. She sank the next one as well, and while the third didn’t go in it did cover a pocket perfectly to block what would have been an easy shot for him.

“Trying to make me sweat, Lacey?”

“Second best way I can think of doing it.”

He ambled by her and softly said; “If I win will you try the first best?”

The answer to that was a great big yes, but she wasn’t going to let him think he was on a promise just yet; “Maybe.”

Weaver made what looked like a hit-and-hope shot. The crowd jeered, but Lacey bit back a smile. For all the shot looked wild, he’d actually moved several of her striped balls into tricky positions. She managed to eek a stripe in by fluke on her next shot, but the cue ball rolled to far and she was pretty stuck for the next shot.

“You’ve got me on the ropes here, Lacey.”

He had to be kidding. She looked up at him and spotted that gleam in his eye again. Ah, a little performance for the crowd. Most of them were busy heckling Weaver, which proved to her that they weren’t paying attention to the table. She played her shot, failed to sink anything and from the looks of it had left him set up to clear up.

He’d sunk four solids before anyone caught onto the fact he was now winning.

“What the hell, Lacey? Why are you going easy on the copper?”

“Game’s not over yet, Keith.”

Unless Weaver decided to hold the cue with his feet, the game was over. He’s next two shots were flawless. She wasn’t sure if it was showmanship that kept the final solid teetering on the edge of the pocket for a few seconds before it dropped, but it caused a groan from the crowd who’d bet on her to win.

She leaned against the table where he was lining up his shot on the black, close enough to say quietly; “Sink this and it won’t be the only thing going down tonight.”

He rolled his head slowly and looked at her, a question in his eyes. With a tiny nod she confirmed she was serious. Weaver licked his lips and said; “Deal.”

Lacey shivered as sparks of desire danced down her spine. He kept his eyes on her. She watched the smooth roll of his shoulder as he took the shot. The racing thrum of her heart muffled the thwack of the balls, and the metallic cluck as the black dropped into the middle pocket. Weaver straightened up and leaned the cue against the table. There was a ruckus starting around them, but Lacey only had eyes for him as he stepped closer.

Movement behind him made her lunge for the collar of his jacket and drag him into her. Keith missed hitting Weaver in the back of the head and staggered away. Lacey’s hip slid along the edge of the pool table and if Weaver hadn’t grabbed her around the waist they would have ended up on the floor. Weaver twisted them around pinning her between his body and the table as Keith wound up for another punch.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Weaver’s rings and bracelet flashed in the lights as he punched Keith in the jaw. Keith’s eyes crossed and he wobbled. He rubbed his jaw and glared blearily at Weaver. Lacey could see him getting ready to either yell assault or try again to commit it. Two of the off-duty coppers had hurried over when Keith started mouthing off. They grabbed him none-too-gently by the shoulders.

“Be sensible for once in your life and back down, Nott.”

“What do you want done with him Detective?”

Weaver huffed; “Send him on his way. After he’s paid everyone who had a flutter.”

While he’d been talking, Weaver’s hand had been rubbing gently on Lacey’s hip. Once Keith had been taken away, he turned his attention back to Lacey.

“So, erm…”

Weaver was always swagger and confidence. Lacey had never seen him look uncertain about anything, it was oddly endearing. She trailed her fingers over the edge of his open collar; “We made a deal. My place, alright?”

The confidence was back. He stepped away from her, his hand still on her hip and nodded towards the door; “Shall we then?”

 Roni watched from behind the bar as Lacey and Weaver left together. She glanced at the security camera screens and was pleased to see the pair of them had calmly walked out of the alley and onto the street. With all the eye-sex and innuendo flying around between them for the past few weeks, she’d been worried that they wouldn’t wait for real privacy before feeling each other up. She had not desire to go after Weaver with a bucket of water.

 They walked along in a silence that was comfortable and charged. Easy in each other’s company, and very aware of what they were planning on doing once they got behind a closed door. Lacey’s apartment was a short walk from Roni’s. Like many rental places in Hyperion Heights it had seen better days, but the rent was affordable, and the super was pretty quick with repairs. She had the feeling she could had led Weaver into a hole in a tree and he wouldn’t have noticed.

The thrumming anticipation ramped up another notch once the door was closed. When she dropped her keys onto the little hall table, he caught her waist. Lacey leaned back into his touch as he nuzzled at her neck. She turned in his arms making sure to trail the back of her hand across his stomach just above the line of his belt. She felt his muscles twitch. He leaned in a little but waited for her to close the gap between their lips. The kiss was soft and teasing. When Lacey caught his bottom lip and sucked slightly Weaver growled.

She pulled away, and although he craned forward to chase her lips, he didn’t tug her into him.

“I need a minute. Why don’t you go sit down and get comfy?”

“Sure thing.”

He stole another kiss and headed into the lounge. Lacey ducked into her bedroom and slipped the money she’d made at pool from her pocket. The folded bills were tucked into her hollow book. She opened the drawer in the bedside table and fished out a couple of condoms. The foil packets went into her shirt pocket and she took a moment to fuss with her hair.

When she strolled into the lounge, she found Weaver had taken his boots off, and was sat on her couch, his head leaned back against the cushions. The rest of her furniture was thrift-store and hand-me-down, but she had saved for a really good couch. She stroked his hair where it was fluffed out against the plum fabric.

“Comfy there?”

He opened his eyes and smiled at her; “This couch is amazing.”

He suddenly lunged up and caught her around the waist. Lacey squealed as he tipped her on to the couch. He kept his weight off her as he leaned over to kiss the breath from her. She ran her hands over his chest and under his jacket. With a bit of squirming she shoved it from his shoulders, and he tossed it somewhere on the floor behind him.

Weaver pulled back enough to give her a suggestive smile; “I believe we had a deal.”

Lacey toyed with the shaggier hair at the back of his neck; “Oh yeah, something about going down like the eight-ball?”

He hummed in agreement. She expected him to sit up to give her access to his belt, but instead he eased himself down her body. He nuzzled at her cleavage while those clever fingers of his hitched her skirt up. She arched up as his fingers stroked over her damp panties.

“Been a while since I’ve done this, so tell me if I’m going wrong, okay sweetheart?”

Lacey bit her lip as he peeled her panties down her legs. In her experience not many blokes were willing to consider doing this, but Weaver looked keen. When she’d made that comment at the bar, she meant that she’d go down on him, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He draped her legs over his shoulders and started kissing her inner thighs. Slow and steady was apparently Weaver’s approach. Lacey lost herself to the sensations of his licks and nibbles. She’d never come for oral before so the climax that washed over her came as a surprise.

“Fuck me!”

Weaver chuckled; “If you insisted.”

She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He made a damn fine picture, between her legs his mouth shining with her cum and a pleased smirk on his lips. She was going to ride that smirk right off his face.

“Stand up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

His knees clicked as he rose to his feet. How long had be gone down on her for? Lacey reached for his belt. His hard-on had already forced the zipper down, so all she had to do once she’d freed his belt was pop the button. His cock sprang out as she shoved his jeans and boxers down his legs. While she’d been striping his lower half, Weaver had tugged his shirt off over his head. She gave him a wink and fished a condom from her pocket. When she rolled it onto him with her mouth he swore. It was a bit of a penguin-shuffle to get him sat down on the couch, but Lacey was too impatient to let him get out of his jeans properly.

She sat astride him, and his hands went straight to her hips.

“Not going to last long, Lacey.”

“Long as you see stars like I did, right?”

“Aye.”

Sliding him into her made them both gasp. Weaver’s fingers tightened on her hips and she could feel him trembling She gripped his shoulders and started to ride him slowly at first, but she upped the pace quickly. His head rolled back against the couch, face contorted in a grimace of pleasure. When she squeezed his cock, he growled and started thrusting up into her.

“Fuck! Yes! Right there!”

He didn’t last more than half a dozen thrusts after that. He tensed and pulled her down onto him as he gave a final thrust. Lacey squeezed around him making him groan and curse. He was shaking as his body relaxed.

“Wow, you, you really made me sweat, Lacey.”

“Told you this way was better than pool. Have a break, maybe a drink and go for round two if you like. I’ll go down on you this time.”

His cock twitched inside of her making her squirm.

“Deal, sweetheart.”

[brett-buckner-the-dirt]

The Flame made up with enthusiasm, what they lacked in wins.

SO … DAMN … CLOSE.

I could hear the excited gasp from everyone in the stands when the metallic thunk of the aluminum bat sent the ball sailing into the darkness like a giant yellow day glow comet on a reverse course toward destiny. The batter, who looked old and strong enough to be a forklift operator despite supposedly being only 11 years old, strutted around the bases, knowing she’d hit a home run.

Though, in her defense, given that it’s kid-pitch softball, I’ve seen bunts turn into triples, and since she hit this ball like she was Mark McGwire jacked up on Creatin, there was probably no need to rush.

But she didn’t count on Jellybean being.

It was the kind of moment that only parents of little league outfielders can appreciate. Since early March, Jellybean has spent hours during practice and 25 games waiting in the down-and-ready position, but that ball never comes.

Sometimes, I think the coaches even forget she and the other outfielders are even there. They become like lawn furniture as they hit endless grounders and pop flies to the infielders – generally the best players (AKA the Coaches Kids) – while my little princess feels the grass grow beneath her feet. Then they shout something like, “Look alive …” and wonder why the kids have the loafing reaction time of a Walking Dead zombie.

And in truth, the only actual game action the outfielders get comes from backing up the back-up and by the point the play’s pretty much over.

But not on this night, not with this batter.

It was the last game, in what’s been a long and frustrating season for our Flames. We weren’t very good, a reality made all the worse by the fact that we really should have been. We were the last seed in the tournament, down 13-7 to the dreaded, and seriously hated, Peaches. After four days of torrential rain – and three straight days of game cancellations – it was hot and muggy and gross, and everyone from the parents in the stands to the kids swatting mosquitoes in the field just wanted it all to be over.

Then Andrea the Giant stepped up to the plate and sent a moon shot hurtling toward my child, who, as always, was in the down-and-ready position.  It was like a dream come true. When the ball left the bat, I left my seat. In that frozen moment, I remembered the hours we spent in the back yard, listening to Princess Rap Battles and tossing pop flies. Jellybean had gotten so good.

She held her glove right. She moved her feet. She kept her eye on the ball. She blocked out everything going on around her. One time, she caught 13 flies in a row, and I’m not talking easy ones either. I mean, I reared back like I was throwing a haymaker at God, and she shagged it with a flip of her hair and gleam in her eye (after I got smart enough to buy her sunglasses before she went blind from starting into the sun).

It was all about to pay off. She felt it too, running forward when all her fellow outfielders would have run the other way in terror. Jellybean WANTED the spotlight, the pressure. Sure the game was a blowout, but I could already hear the roar of the crowd and see her teammates running out to give her high-fives and maybe even hoist her on their shoulders and carry her off the field.

It would be a glorious triumph for every kid who’s every been spent more time applying bug spray and sunscreen than actually … ya … know … feeling like a part of the team. From here, Jellybean would be catapult to a position that didn’t require visiting grandparents to say, “now where is she? Oh, way out there.”

Down. Down. Down. The ball came, fire trailing behind as it re-entered Earth’s atmosphere. Other parents stood up for a better look. Bam-Bam shucked off his headphones and ignored the Shrek movie he was watching to see what all the excitement was about.

The entire stadium fell silent as Jellybean extended her glove while still running forward. It was so still, so quiet that I heard the gentle scratch of leather as the ball skipped off the tip of her glove and fell dead to the ground.

Disbelief and disappoint spread through the stands, like the seconds right after the fireworks have ended and the sky is still filled with smoke. It would have been the perfect ending. But instead, the Behemoth in a pink batter’s helmet ran around the bases as Jellybean picked up the ball and hit the relay throw to second.

I wanted to cry, to scream the unfairness to the heavens, but I had to be strong for my little girl, whom I knew would be devastated as the game and season were over.

After the obligatory “good game” handshakes and the “I’m so proud of you … never gave up … fought right up to the end …” speeches from the coaches, I hugged my little ballplayer, ready to offer words of wisdom, experience, encouragement, and, most of all love. She, in turn, looked up to me with those big blue eyes and said:

“Can we get a Frostie?”

So brave. So brave.

‘So Done’

When the game was over, I wasn’t exactly sad. Jellybean was downright elated.

It had been a long, season. The weather had gone from freezing to that kind of sticky hot that seems to fester around ball field. The Flames were the epitome of the “always played hard” but fell short in the win column.

I knew I’d grow to miss it all more than I do now. Jellybean vows she’s “so done” with softball. She promises we’ll keep tossing the ball around from time to time, but I know better. Pretty soon dance recitals will take the place of backyard pop flies, and that makes me sad. Softball was something we could do together. I could toss her grounders, show her how to watch the ball into her glove. It was something we could bond over. I cannot dance … unless the white boy prom sway is an actual dance move.

What I’ll miss most is how softball brought our weird little broken family together. Two or three days a week, we’d get to hang out a couple of hours and just enjoy each other’s company. It was like a family reunion but only with the family members you actually like.

She so little, and cute

Jase tries not to sleep, fails

The Diva, a great mom

Grandma gets some baby time.

All of Jellybean’s scattered grandparents made it to multiple games, but best of all was the visits with The Diva and her brood. Sure, I usually had to drive all the way to Phenix City then back to Midland to pick ‘em up, but were it not for those trips, I’d never have known that 2-year old Bam-Bam knows every word to the Scooby-Doo theme song.

After picking our spots right by the fence so we could sit in the shade and still see Jellybean in the outfield, I’d get Bam-Bam set up with his toys – brought over from my house. There was Han Solo and Chewbacca, a Hulk bobble head, the Xenomorph from Alien and a tiny key chain figure of GhostFace from the Scream movies, which he called, “Stabby” – all carried in a battered old KISS lunchbox along with some almonds.

Bam-Bam has loves KISS

Heeeer’s Stabby

Booty-Head the dinosaur

Once the game started, he’d climb up in my lap and using Jellybean’s iPad, watch episodes of Boss Baby or PJ Mask while trying not to fall asleep.

On the other side, The Lovely Mother of My Children, always dressed in scrubs after rushing to the field from the hospital, would sit by The Diva and just talk. Things haven’t always been great between those two over the last few years, but during those games, things were pretty good, and I’d like to think some of those good vibes carried over after the game.

But with her newest bundle of beautiful still not at the sitting-up phase, The Diva wants all the help and advice she can get, while her momma can’t help but love the baby, even if she still worries about her own child.

There are still problems and there always will be, but for a little while at least they don’t matter much. It’s just nice being together, being happy, and cheering. And even if there’s not another “next year,” at least we had this one.

But maybe … just maybe Jellybean will change her mind. I’d sure like to see her get another chance to catch a pop fly.

  Take me out to the ballgame … one final time SO … DAMN … CLOSE. I could hear the excited gasp from everyone in the stands when the metallic…

[bussanbaby]

veni vidi amavi

soulmate (noun) - a person with whom you have an immediate connection the moment you meet; a connection so strong that you are drawn to them in a way you have never experienced before.

What does time mean to an immortal being?

Mundanes have a limited amount of it. Aware of the final line, they try to live out every fantasy before their hourglasses run clean. They plan out the years, goals to be achieved, memories to be made in the right order. They dream of being remembered after their years have rushed by, whether for something worthy of fame or just simple photographs set in frames on homely mantelpieces.

Sometimes, Magnus hears people say ‘We haven’t seen each other for so long!’ when it’s been a year or five, and it makes him smile. He’s always felt stationary, almost solid against the waves of time; for Magnus, there’s no end line in sight, no set rules, no bracket to keep him contained.

Immortality doesn’t mean invincibility - Magnus has learned that the hard way - but there is a specific sense of freedom in not having to count your years.

He turns the shower lever and waits until steam rises from the stream of water, then steps in.

Magnus has lived over four centuries on this earth, watched it evolve before his very eyes. He’s lived through many wars, fought to keep himself and his kind alive against all sorts of evil. But there have also been years of peace, when he was free to indulge in adventures, his studies and pleasures of life. With these years, came people.

He’s made great friends, like Catarina and Ragnor, who’ve stuck with him through thick and thin, made unforgettable memories and annoyed him out of his mind in the most loving way possible. There have been other acquaintances, warlocks he worked with, loyal clients, and random downworlders whose presence Magnus enjoyed immensely. They’ve all made his life different in their own ways and he will remember them, even if the world forgets about their existence.

There have also been lovers, many of them. Single night flings he remembers as clothes draped over furniture, long hours tasting like liquor and laughter, followed by parting ways. Some people stuck around for longer, held Magnus’ hand and went with him on dates, but, sooner or later, they always fled. Whether it was his cat eyes, past deeds or something else entirely, the relationships never lasted, each leaving behind a new fissure in Magnus’ soul.

Magnus tips his head back, letting the water from the showerhead spray over his face. He’s not sure why he’s thinking about all of this, old loves and the many years he remembers; maybe it’s the date or the repetitive motions that leave his mind wandering. His eyelashes flutter as droplets of water hang onto them, only to slip down his nose and chin, catch on the sharp edge of his jaw.

At first, he had hope - a romantic at heart, Magnus loves like he lives, to the fullest. But for an immortal, love, like everything else, is only temporary. He understands these feelings aren’t meant to be timeless, because even other warlocks or vampires he’s been with had never stayed as soon as the flame of affection dimmed.

Of course, break-ups are a commodity in the world of relationships, but, at some point, a tinny voice in the back of Magnus’ mind warned him to not get too attached, because he would always end up alone. By the point Camille had come into Magnus’ life, he was tired of it all, but let himself take a last chance; a last shot at putting his hand in the fire and hoping it wouldn’t burn.

She was good for him for a while - distracted his thoughts, set his mind at ease with her colorful personality and all kinds of frivolities, told Magnus she understood the pain he felt in his heart, pulled him away from the edge in more ways than one. They crashed events as famous people, partied until the sun rose overhead; Camille made Magnus feel good, made him feel important and wanted when the world meant to prove him otherwise. He loved her with his whole being, gifted her with his best works to keep her smiling, but her feelings for him were never quite the same.

Magnus has realised her decadence over time; for Camille love was just another plaything, an entertainment, something that required little effort on her side. Ruthlessly cold at the core, she toyed with Magnus’ emotions, selfishly manipulated him into giving her all she wanted, put thoughts in his head, ones he should have never believed. Where for him love was a gorgeous thing, for Camille it was a ball and chain; despite all she told Magnus, she never intended to be his forever.

Camille broke Magnus’ heart, shattered it into sharp pieces it took decades to pick up and put back together. After her, Magnus had had enough; he closed himself off from any kind of feelings for other people. He was sick of baring himself, letting people in, only to be pushed away over and over. And so, he’d promised himself to never love again.

Magnus lets his head lull forward, blinks his eyes open as water trickles down the back of his neck. Puffs of white foam wash down the drain, swirling around his feet, as he stands under the warm stream just for a moment longer. There’s no rush for him to be anywhere, no lives in danger, no early calls, no war to fight.

With a relaxed sigh, he steps out and dries himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist. Without the loud hum of the water, Magnus can clearly hear the birds chirping right outside the house through the open window; the air brushing his bare skin smells of sea salt and the citrus trees growing nearby. Hair dry after a click of his fingers, Magnus combs it back loosely, and with a brief glance into the mirror, he leaves the bathroom.

He’s bought this Provençal little house on a whim, after on one date night Alec suggested that if they ever get a day off, they should elope, spend it out in the countryside and away from the big cities. And now, they’re here on a sunny Saturday, with their phones turned off and all day to themselves. Fingers dragging over flowery wallpaper, Magnus makes his way over to the master bedroom, old wooden floors creaking under his weight.

They’d arrived yesterday evening, just after they both got off work and said goodbyes to their kids, who were staying with Luke and Maryse. The summer warmth stuck to their skin the second they stepped through the portal, kept them company while they strolled around a nearby quaint town tucked into the seaside, hand in hand down cobblestone alleys lined with buildings painted the muted shades of sunset. They tried the food and listened to stories told by locals, until it got dark and the stars rose above their heads. New York’s sky couldn’t ever measure up to to the bright-freckled night in the middle of a heather field.

At one point, when they were already drunk on love and rosé, when Magnus was laughing at something Alec said so hard he had to prop himself on whatever was near, it seemed like they were the only people in the entire world. Not hearing Alec’s laughter along his own, Magnus looked up, caught him staring with a gaze intense and tinted with something earnest and tender, something that spoke beyond simple words.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful.”

Magnus has heard those words many times from Alec, who takes every chance to tell him how gorgeous he is, inside and out. He has made Magnus feel far from an abomination, monstrous and dangerous - when faced with Magnus’ past, Alec hadn’t passed judgement; instead, he’d embraced Magnus, along with all his vices and virtues, and accepted him as he was. Alec had made Magnus feel safe.

With stars above them and the brightest ones set in Alec’s eyes, Magnus crowded him against a wall, kissed him with all he had - passion and fondness and devotion. Alec smiled against his mouth, Magnus could feel him push his entire body into the gesture, respond to the kiss like a storm, electric and enticing at once; Magnus would never tire of it, of how each kiss made his heart grow two sizes, whether it was an everyday greeting or something deeper and more reverent as this.

When Magnus walks into the bedroom, Alec seems to still be asleep. Before, he was settled on his stomach, his bare back exposed to the rays of sun slipping in through the wooden shutters, pale ochre-colored light cutting thick lines like painter’s strokes into his runed skin.

Slipping out from beneath the thin sheets, Magnus had dragged his gaze along the curves of Alec’s muscles, over paths Magnus’ hands have taken more times than he can count. It felt impossible to leave the bed with his husband still in it, warm and solid, yet he had, mind heavy with thoughts only to be resolved under a stream of hot water.

Now Alec is on his back, tangled in the lavender-colored fabric, sleep-hazy and uninhibited, with his arms resting loosely over his torso and a sliver of thigh peeking through a gap in the coiled sheets. He looks like an artist’s muse, Greek Apollo captured in tan marble. Stuck in the doorway, Magnus smiles absentmindedly, wanting to keep this image forever.

The clothes they’d shed the day before, lost in the sensation of skin on skin and fingertips pressed into muscle, are still scattered over the wooden floors; Magnus picks up a crumpled shirt and a pair of pants on his way over to a small suitcase they’d brought along. He throws them onto an armchair in the corner of the room and fishes out some fresh underwear, the breeze from the open balcony door wrapping itself around his ankles. The towel lands on the ground with a soft noise and Magnus pulls the red boxer briefs over his ass.

“Nice view,” Alec murmurs, his voice rough with disuse, the words slurring together into one noise Magnus deciphers with years of practice. He turns to look behind him, only to find Alec with a smile on his face, somewhere between sleepy and playful, an arm tucked behind his head as a pillow.

Magnus lifts an eyebrow at Alec, unimpressed.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says with a semi-flat tone, his amusement at the mischievousness coloring his voice despite best efforts.

With a sigh accompanied by Alec’s chuckle, Magnus looks towards the horizon beyond the balcony railing - the pale sand bordering overgrown flower fields, the sea waves lapping at the coast, cerulean lined with white foam. He glances back towards Alec and sends him a sly wink.

“It’s quite impressive, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, it’s extraordinary,” Alec hums in agreement, then huffs out an indulgent laugh at their stupid little jokes; the sound echoes bright between Magnus’ ribs as he goes to hang the damp towel over the balcony railing.

The late-morning sun touches at his skin when he leans against the carved wood, letting the wind play with strands of his hair. He’s spent so much time in New York that this kind of quiet feels almost eerie - there’s no honking taxis, no helicopters flying over buildings at random hours in the night, no people with their easy chatter littering every nook and cranny of the city. Instead, there’s just nature, bees and birds mingling, the rustle of branches against the roof tiles.

“Come back to bed? I haven’t kissed my husband today yet and I really want to,” Alec says, voice teasing, yet soft.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Magnus remarks, taking deliberately slow stops towards the bed, watching Alec’s smile grow into a sleepy grin.

The mattress creaks beneath Magnus’ weight when he settles on his knees across Alec’s hips, arms pressed into the pillow on both sides of Alec’s head. Alec looks up at Magnus, hands raising to rest against his neck, feather-light and adoring. It’s slow and easy to drown in, Alec smiling mid-kiss, pressing soft pecks to the corners of Magnus’ lips before pushing up for more open mouthed kisses.

When Magnus met Alec, he had long forgotten what true love felt like. It was a tumultuous time, with Valentine on the rise and the warlocks uneasy. Then, Clary came like a whirlwind back into Magnus’ life, turning it inside out. With Clary, Alec had begrudgingly tagged along, at first thorny and closed-off, always keeping himself safe in the shadows of others. Yet, since the first time they’d spoken to each other - even before that - they’d had a connection.

It was beyond simple physical attraction; it was more than skin-deep. Even in the aftermath of their short-lived fight with that Circle member, they took a moment just to breathe each other in, Magnus watched a smile grow on Alec’s face, unabashed and uninhibited with the burdens of his everyday life. There was something so special, something Magnus couldn’t deny, and it was exactly what pushed him to reach out, start the entire chain of events that led them here.

Kissing Alec feels easier than breathing, their bodies responding in sync to each other, one of Magnus’ hands travelling down Alec’s chest, over coarse hair and to his side, thumb dragging against the sharp line of his hipbone only to grab at his thigh. Before they even realize, their chests are pressed flush together, legs tangled and hearts beating to one rhythm.

They’ve done this more times than Magnus can count, kissed until their mouths were red and puffy; sometimes it was all passion and heat deep in the pit of Magnus’ stomach, their hands reckless and needy, but sometimes it was just like this, steady and lazy and slow, touching for the sake of it.

The initial leap into the unknown was terrifying, every exposed piece of Magnus’ soul a step onto the minefield. The first Shadowhunter to come into Magnus’ life, Alec was a key to the cage Magnus had locked himself into a century ago. And it wasn’t easy at the beginning - with every move forward, they made two back; after all, nothing good ever comes easy. The turning point was the wedding Magnus crashed, when he decided to fight once more for his and Alec’s happiness, with a little bit of help from an old friend. In hindsight, it was one of the best choices Magnus has made, because Alec was like summer rain - powerful, yet soothing.

He turned Magnus’ world upside down and led him home at once.

Magnus presses his lips against the deflect rune on Alec’s neck and feels the fingers buried in his hair tighten, pulling a hum from his chest. It’s mouths brushing against stubbled cheeks, smiles hidden in collarbones, ticklish touches leaving them giggling like teenagers. They kiss and kiss and kiss, until they feel full, if for a little while.

Helplessly tangled up in the sheets, Magnus lies down on his back next to Alec, who shuffles closer, resting his chin on Magnus’ chest and winding an arm around his waist. Without the need to say anything and slightly out of breath, Magnus moves his fingers through Alec’s hair, combing back the unruly curls that keep springing back into their place.

“25 years, huh,” Alec muses, his chin digging into the muscle underneath with each movement.

Magnus cranes his neck down at a strange angle, pretty positive he’s sporting a double chin from Alec’s point of view; his fingers keep running through the motions.

“That’s roughly half your life you’ve been married to me. How does it feel?”

“Wonderful, actually.” Alec smiles lopsidedly, halfway lost in his thoughts, swallows around the next words. “Do you think I’d be bald by now, like Camille said? Or maybe I’d have grey sides, all rugged and sexy a la Oscar Isaac.”

Magnus chuckles, a vision of Alec dressed like the Star Wars pilot forming in his imagination; the leather jacket would look surely nice on him, fitting well into Alec’s already existing fashion sense.

“First of all, did you hang out with Simon recently? And second of all, Camille didn’t know what she was talking about. I love you as you are, in all your messy, bed-hair glory.”

Alec’s snicker is mixed with a soft glance from beneath his eyelashes, before he pushes up on his arm to peck Magnus on the mouth, lingering close just for a couple of seconds. “Love you too, baby.”

He lies down comfortably again, this time with his scratchy cheek against Magnus’ skin. The hand that was resting loosely around Magnus’ waist begins to trace feather-light shapes over his side.

Magnus’ hand stills, settling against the curve of Alec’s skull, almost cradling it against his chest.

Their love was a conversation, a dialogue of souls made of the same material. Smitten with each other from the very beginning, it was impossible to stay away - no matter what life threw at them, they’ve always returned, found the right path and tangled their hands together. They’re good for each other, but in a healthier way than Camille was for Magnus. While it’s impossible to avoid comparisons, Magnus knows deeply they’re two entirely different worlds, a theatre show versus something so real and tender that sometimes it hurts to feel.

Alec has made Magnus open up and believe again - in true love, in stability, and a kind of safety going beyond locked doors and magical wards. That he still can have his happy forever. Alec has listened to Magnus’ doubts and fears, opinions and memories, heard beyond his voice. Alec has loved him in the moments when Magnus felt unlovable.

Magnus sighs, a subtle smile settled on his mouth, as he blinks himself out of his thoughts. He used to have quiet days a lot back in his more lonesome times. There’s less of them now, but they still happen, almost welcome - times likes this sun-lit morning, where’s no darkness weighing down on him, but something peaceful and complete instead.

His fingers dance down Alec’s back, over the straight line of his spine, pulling a drowsy hum from Alec resting on his chest. He seems to be drifting in and out of sleep, eyes closed, but fingertips still moving against Magnus’ side.  

“Let’s have breakfast, dove,” Magnus says quietly, drumming his fingers against the knobs of Alec’s vertebrae.

“Can’t we have breakfast in bed?” Alec groans back, pushing his face into Magnus’ skin as if he could escape the reality and the sun slowly climbing higher and higher in the sky.

It’s a tempting offer, one snap of Magnus’ fingers and they could have the feast of their lives in these very sheets, but it doesn’t feel right; he’s gotten so used to doing things the mundane way with Alec that it’s almost ridiculous.

“Come on, you lazy oaf, there’s only so many hours in a day. And I’m really craving your special recipe scrambled eggs.” Magnus pats Alec’s ass and with one final sigh of defeat from the Shadowhunter, they both start to get up, the mattress squeaking with each sluggish movement.

Alec pads over to the suitcase and picks out a pair of black underwear to slip into before brushing past Magnus in the doorway, his hair sticking out in every possible direction. They walk down the stairs, the worn carpet rough beneath their bare feet. The small kitchen they walk into is connected to a dining room, framed with black and white linoleum and kitchen isles, plenty of space for a whole family. The sun is pouring in through the window, exposing all little dust particles floating around.

“Chef Alec is in the kitchen, two orders of five-star scrambled eggs with spinach and tomatoes coming right up,” Alec jokes as he pulls a pan from one of the cabinets, twirling it in his palm before he sets it on the stove.

The fridge is freshly well-stocked, charmed with a spell to always provide everything they need, and Alec dumps an armful of ingredients onto the counter, busying his hands and mind with making breakfast, already looking much more awake than moments before.

Magnus, on the other hand, busies himself with coffee and making the toast to accompany the eggs; he cuts thick slices of dark bread and puts them in the oven to crisp up, before pulling out the french press.

Still, Magnus can’t help but stare.

Alec still looks so young, bright-eyed and with morning scruff covering his face; there are no grey hairs on his head, no wrinkles embedded in his skin, except for little crow’s feet around his eyes that came from smiling. The golden band around Alec’s right ring finger catches the light as he cuts the tomatoes, quick and efficient.

It’s an unspoken rule that warlocks rarely marry. Usually, it’s the fear of commitment with mortals - the promise of heartbreak after they pass lingering like a ghost over your shoulder or people not wanting to spend the entirety of their lives devoted to one soul. But Alec has always had a tendency to surprise Magnus.

He always manages to say things that nobody has ever told Magnus before. There’s nothing ugly about you. I don’t think I can live without you. Will you marry me?

How could Magnus say no to the love of his life? They’ve gotten married, surrounded by their friends and family, all dressed in shades of gold. Magnus has never thought it would happen to him, that he’d be able to walk down the aisle covered with rose petals, holding his newly-wed husband’s slightly clammy hand, to see him smile at Magnus like he hung the stars and the moon in the sky. Magnus had resigned himself to a life alone, but there was Alec, taking down all his walls one by one, pressing a pair of gentle hands against Magnus’ heart.

There have been many lovers in Magnus’ life and he could not count them all, no matter how much he tried - fleeting romances, deeper connections, flings that turned into friendships. But never before has there been a person like Alec. Never someone who was more than a lover, who was also a best friend, a partner in crime, a kindred spirit.

With Alec, everything clicked - every joke was funnier if told by him (even if he stuttered through the punchline) and trouble never seemed as daunting with his presence behind Magnus’ back; they could talk about anything and everything from dinner options, politics and opinions, dreams and deepest fears, right to their plans for the future.

There wasn’t a day where Magnus didn’t think of his husband, his honest and loyal and tender husband, where his chest didn’t burst at the seams with all the love he harbored for so long. Alec isn’t Magnus’ longest relationship by far, but Magnus is sure it will outlast the world itself - he is a constant in a world full of temporary people.

After dumping a few spoonfuls of coffee grounds into the press, Magnus sets the kettle with a click of his fingers, not wanting to get into Alec’s way as he’s shuffling the eggs around with a wooden spatula. The food smells heavenly and Magnus feels hunger gnawing at his insides, almost tempting him to steal just a little bit off of the pan.

Alec glances up, one of his eyes lit up by the sun while he studies Magnus’ expression; since somewhere along the lines he’s learned to read Magnus like a book, he smiles and scoops some of the food onto the spatula, blows on it to cool it and carefully brings it closer to Magnus’ face.

Magnus dips down and takes a bite, managing to not spill any on the ground. With his mouth full, he can’t speak, so instead he expresses his emotions by a dip of his eyelids and a shamelessly exaggerated moan; there’s just the right amount of spices and herbs in the food.

Alec chuckles, his smile somewhere between smitten and pleased. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

With a hand on the side of Alec’s neck to draw him closer, Magnus nods, pauses chewing to peck Alec’s mouth and wink at him. “Yum.”

The kettle starts whistling, bursting their flirtatious bubble. While Magnus pours the boiling water into the press, Alec reaches into the oven with the mitts on, pulling out a pan full of already browned, crispy, and perfectly warm toast, then sets it aside for a bit to cool.

With a sigh, Magnus focuses on stirring the coffee mixture, waiting for it to brew properly; nobody wants to drink bad coffee.

He didn’t want to let Alec go, still doesn’t. And while at some point in his life, Magnus had had come to terms with the issue of mortality, sometimes it surfaced like an oil spill over seawaves, dark and worrisome. Over a year of their marriage later and right on the day of Alec’s birthday, they were sat with half-full glasses of wine on the loft’s balcony, when Alec turned to him with a vulnerable look after Magnus asked him what he’d like for his birthday next year.

“The only gift I want is an eternity with you.”

The words resonated loudly as if the entire world had disappeared into silence, only leaving him and this hazel-eyed mystery of a man, always making Magnus’ heart strain against his ribs. Immortality is not something he’d ever push Alec about, because while it sounded good on the surface, it came with a price of death - not yours, but everyone around you.

But Alec was sure of his decision, sincere and quiet in the way he held Magnus’ hands; for Nephilim, death was always on the other side of the coin. It had taken a deal - a dangerous amount of energy and an exchange with a yellow-eyed creature in the middle of the glowing summoning circle.

And now, there were the two of them, moving against the current of time, watching almost everyone around them age with grace.

The clink of plates pulls Magnus out of his thoughts again and it’s a miracle he hasn’t spilled any coffee on himself. Alec piles the eggs onto the dishes in even amounts, pairs it with the now-buttered toast and sprinkles everything with just a bit of grated cheese.

Magnus closes the lid and pushes down on the press, filtering the coffee before pouring it into two mugs, one of them chipped at the handle and Alec’s utmost favorite. With their hands full, they move to the porch on the back of the house that looks out onto the shore, a small space surrounded with glass walls and a ceiling like a greenhouse. The cold from the stone tiles seeps into Magnus’ feet as he wanders over to the patio furniture to put down their coffees - a dark wicker table and matching chairs, the entire space cluttered with potted plants.

Alec lingers behind, his deep breath audible in the vague quietness.

“We should bring the kids here for a weekend, you know, have a little picnic at the beach.”

Magnus smiles to himself, takes the plates from his husband’s hands and sets them down alongside the mugs. “We should, I’m sure they’d love it here with all the space to run around in and explore.”

“They’re a lively bunch, just like the ones before them. I fear for Luke and his back.” Alec chuckles, his words conjuring the fresh image of pepper-and-salt haired Lucian in Magnus’ mind, the eldest Garroway-Lightwood enjoying his role as a grandpa.

“He’ll handle himself. If he made it through Clary’s puberty, then what are three little downworlders in comparison? And he’s got Simon and your mom on stand-by,” Magnus shrugs and they sit down side by side.

Through the glass, Magnus watches the sea move, waves folding over each other, washing out empty shells and starfish onto the sand. Alec takes a bite of his food and washes it down with a sip of coffee, then turns in his seat to face Magnus, cheek resting against the top of his palm, the fork unsteady between loose fingers and dangling above the plate.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Magnus sighs, turns to meet Alec’s eyes, curious and roaming over the lines of his face with half-hidden worry. He looks and looks and looks - takes in the little scar in his eyebrow, the edge of the rune curling up his jaw, the small birthmarks at the base of his throat.

This is the man who has stolen Magnus’ heart, the one who knows him better than anyone else in the world, the one that treats Magnus like a sacred and powerful demigod. Alexander Lightwood-Bane, Magnus’ immortal husband, the father of his children, his North Star.

Magnus lifts his palm, presses it against Alec’s face, thumb swiping in slow motions against his cheekbone. He leans into it, patient and golden-hearted.

“I am glad to have met you.” It’s a simple statement, underlaid with emotions too big to describe in any sort of language.

Maybe it’s Magnus’ expression what gives it away or the way his hand stills as he gathers the next words, but Alec seems to understand - he smiles encouragingly, his coffee-warmed palm settling over Magnus’.

“When I saw you for the first time, not at the loft, but at Pandemonium, my heart ached and I knew you’d be someone special. That you’d be it.”

In that moment, as Alec pushed past Magnus just after saving his life, a feeling surfaced, something almost like a voice in Magnus’ ears despite the bouncing club music - there you are, please stay for a while.

Now, he’s looking at Magnus with this bittersweet fondness, as he tugs his hand down from his face and instead cradles it in his own palms, long fingers wrapping their way across Magnus’ skin. The touch is grounding in a way, a quiet expression of love and awe.

His grip tightens for a breath and he smiles again, there and gone.

“Listen, I had a whole speech ready for our candlelit dinner later, but I wasn’t prepared for this.” They laugh, because of course Alec had a speech planned. He keeps saying he’s far from a romantic, but if the spontaneous and heartfelt confessions and random gifts, just because, are anything to go by, Alec is one of the most sentimental, idealistic people Magnus knows.

“I wasn’t prepared for you, either. From the moment I was born, I was taught to not believe in the idea of happy love. Practical marriages, alliances for wealth, yes, but not the kind of affection that makes your life better, that makes you happy. You saved me, Magnus.”

The words hang in the air, echoing in Magnus’ mind. He has never really believed in the concept of soulmates, two people destined to cross each other’s paths, two hearts bound to each other before they were born. Fate herself is a trickster, painting an endless amount of paths to take, and before meeting Alec, Magnus would’ve scoffed at the notion of someone meant for him; it just didn’t seem reasonable, but now, it’s different. Maybe they did save each other after all - from loneliness, heartache, a sort of emptiness nothing material can fill.

“Hey.” Magnus catches Alec’s gaze, their hands still tangled in his lap, cooling breakfast be damned. “Thanks for loving me.”

Alec’s following eyeroll is a mix of exasperation and understanding, because he’s been there too, when the best things in your life feel like a dream never meant to last. But theirs had, against all odds.

“You are the man of my life and if I could marry you again, I’d go down on my knee right now. It’s an honor to love you,” Alec says with pure conviction, lifting Magnus’ palm to his lips, branding a soft kiss onto his skin, a knight’s promise.

Magnus swallows the lump in his throat, voice breathy. “I’d say yes. Always.”

They fall quiet against the song of the sea and Alec leans closer, kisses Magnus; it’s far from rushed, not a fire doused with gasoline, but a steady light against the dark. With that, they settle back into their seats, hands still linked, but now resting on Magnus’ bare knee. He clicks the fingers of his free hand to heat up their food again, the steam curling above the plates in abstract shapes.

Alec hums, then laughs quietly, almost as if to himself. “We’re giant saps, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.”

They both pick up their respective coffee cups, clink them together in a mock-toast like champagne flutes.

Fifty, a hundred years ago, Magnus was disillusioned, disappointed by what the world was to him. He was drowning in something dark, a cold and deep ocean that sat inside of him - pretty on the surface, but harboring things nobody wants to see.

Here he is now, bathed in something peaceful, something that tastes like black pepper and coffee. The darkness, the cold water, they’re still there; love will not erase it, nor it will fix it, because it was never broken. Love just makes living easier, all the rights brighter and all the wrongs more bearable.

Alec smiles at him, fingers squeezing Magnus’.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

Whether it’s in a year or five or ten, it will be okay. Storms at sea pass and one day everyone finds their someone, their somewhere; for every sailor, there is a haven.

Magnus smiles back, lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a slow sip. The hot liquid warms him from the inside as it travels through his body.

“Happy anniversary, my dear Alexander.”

It will be okay.

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: The Mom Rule

An anonymous request here!

Can I request Chris is on a date and she lets him know she has a kid, expecting the worst like with some other guys and Chris is totally engaged asking questions and maybe it time skips a little and they have built their relationship and its finally time for Chris to meet the little guy or girl?. Obviously goes amazing cos he has the same mental age as them 😉 lol.

***

It had been going well. Almost too well, and that was making you nervous. Weird, right? Normally people get nervous before a date, or if the date is taking a dramatic nose dive in front of their very eyes. But not you, no. A date going well meant that when you did eventually reveal the truth, you’d just be all the more disappointed when he inevitably walked away and you never heard from him again.

So, you chatted and laughed over a delicious dinner and you sipped your wine carefully, just enough to try and quell the raging ball of nerves taking hold in the pit of your stomach. Your body was on automatic countdown to the moment of implosion and, damnit, you didn’t want to go there.

Maybe you could just… not mention it? Just this once? You felt certain another date was on the cards so what would it hurt to save the news until then?

But you instantly swallowed that thought down. You needed to follow your own set of Mom Rules. It wasn’t fair, to either of them: the gorgeous, funny, affable man sat in front of you, or the beautiful little boy probably now fast asleep at your mom’s house, your adorable son who, as far as you were concerned, the sun rose and set with.

You sighed inwardly and resolved to enjoy the next half hour before you broke the news to Chris over dessert.

***

Chris was… enamoured, he had to admit. The girl - woman - in front of him had been a treat to be with since the moment you sat down. You had been a little late, only enough to make him get slightly twitchy, but had arrived flustered, apologetic, and talking a mile a minute. Traffic had been awful, it had taken forever to get a cab, you had been so worried that he’d have gone by the time you arrived.

He couldn’t help but smile, standing up to take your hand and drop a chaste kiss on your cheek.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he’d said, 'you’re here now.’

And so the date had begun and Chris found himself losing track of the time more than once. He was positively surprised when his main course was placed on the table in front of him - hadn’t the starter plates just been cleared?! He was enjoying himself. More than he had for a long time, and he’d felt that longed-for click, that moment where you just know you fit together in the universe with another person.

You were just… so at ease. Completely unfazed by him, treating him as if he was just any other guy on the planet, even though there had been considerable planning and preparation prior to this date to avoid being spotted. He didn’t want that to sound arrogant, but he had gotten used to certain reactions over the years. The one you gave was one he didn’t see very often: calm, collected and grounded. He relaxed instantly into your company and it had only got better from there.

Every person you met in the world was a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, and although some pieces didn’t fit together, some did very easily indeed.

***

You could see the server carrying dessert over in your peripheral vision and you willed him more than anything to drop the plates, accidentally give them to another couple, anything at all that would stop them arriving at the table. Because that was your rule: you give it until dessert and if it’s going well and a another date seems likely, you take a deep breath and spill the beans.

Usually there would be a look of surprise and a slight fall in the face, and the conversation never really picks up again after that. Occasionally, a guy has pretended, or convinced themselves maybe, that they didn’t mind, that they were totally cool with kids, but the truth always, always eventually revealed itself. Luckily, it was always long before you’d ever suggested introducing him to your son.

And now, there was your chocolate soufflé. You looked at it sadly, knowing just how delicious it was going to be but how bittersweet the taste. Picking up your dessert spoon, you slowly pierced the top, letting out the steam and gathering a small spoonful before bringing it to your lips. You idly collected another spoonful, letting your mind wander and managing to simply push your dessert around its ramekin.

'Everything okay?’ Chris’ voice brought you from your reverie, 'Do you not like your dessert?’

Your gaze snapped back to his and you tried a smile, 'It’s delicious really. I just…’

Chris raised a patient eyebrow, 'You just…?’

You sighed and set your spoon down gently, placing your hands in your lap, 'Listen, I have something I need to tell you.’

His expression was immediately serious and guarded and you could see his gaze minutely flicker to the entrance, probably planning his escape route. He gave a short, nervous bark of a laugh and gestured towards the bar with his thumb.

'Should I be ordering a scotch for this?’

You gave what you hoped was an encouraging smile, 'No, no, I just… there’s no easy way of saying this so I’m just going to come out with it. I… I’m a mom. I have a kid. A son actually. So… yeah. There’s that…’

You had shrugged and your gaze had dropped to your hands on the word 'mom’, your thumbs nervously circling each other. There is was. Out there in the open. And you couldn’t take the words back now. But it was for the best. There was no point drawing out the inevitable.

When you heard nothing for an uncomfortable length of time, you quickly glanced upwards to try and gauge his reaction. He looked amused and… relieved?

'Is that all? I mean, all you need to tell me?’

You could feel your brow knitting together in confusion.

'Yes…? You’re not… it doesn’t matter to you?’ You could barely believe it. Where was the other shoe and when would it drop?

He sat back in his chair, relaxed and open.

'Well, no. I mean, of course your child matters. But you being a mom doesn’t change… anything here,’ he gestured with his hand between the two of you, 'I was expecting you to tell me you’d set me up for the paps and had suddenly gained a conscience or… that we’d slept together in high school and I didn’t remember or something.’

You knew he was joking but you still couldn’t get past the fact that he didn’t care. Your voice was quiet but incredulous and you were sure you looked like the dumbest person alive but this… was not what you were expecting. In any way.

'It doesn’t bother you?’

'Why would it? I always thought I’d have had my own kids by now, if I’m being completely honest.’

'Huh. I’m just… not used to this reaction I guess. A lot of guys… lose interest when I tell them. So I started doing this. Following my mom rule. Gauging whether another date was on the cards by the time dessert came out and if not, I’d stay quiet. If it seemed likely, I’d break the news and prepare myself to get ghosted.’

'Ghosted?’

'Yeah, like contact just dies out gradually until they just seem like they’ve disappeared off the face of the earth.’

Chris’ brow shot up, 'People do that?!’

You reached for your wine glass, feeling lighter than ever, 'Not been on the normal people dating scene for a while, huh?’

He was bashful, 'No, uh, it doesn’t tend to work out too well. Usually.’

'Thanks for clarifying,’ you teased him and tipped your glass towards him in acknowledgement. 'So, I feel dumb now. For making that such a big deal.’

'Well, precedent didn’t make you very hopeful so don’t worry about it. So tell me: what’s his name? How old is he? You got a picture?’

You smiled. It was a revelation.

***

'You’re sure about this? Really sure?’ you asked him for the millionth time, your ear pressed to your cellphone.

'Yes, I’m really, really sure. I swear. Now will you stop freaking out? I’m not nervous at all, but you’re making me nervous,’ Chris’ deep voice filtered through your speaker. He sounded further away than usual and you knew he was using the hands free in his car.

'Okay, okay,’ you breathed, 'I’m not freaking out, I swear. This is going to be fine. He’s going to adore you, you’re going to adore him.

'Precisely. Now go, I’m nearly at your house.’

'See you in a few minutes,’ you hung up just as the subject of your phone call came barrelling around the corner, toy rocket in hand, making zoom-zoom noises as he went. He smashed straight into you, not looking where he was going and fell down on to his bottom.

'Whoops! Up we get!’ You said quickly, pulling him to his feet before he had chance to start crying from the shock, 'You’re okay, just a little fall on your bum!’

He blinked, as if deciding in his three year old brain what his reaction should. He eventually settled on not crying, and held his arms up for you to pick him up. You bounced him on your hip and he swayed his rocket around in the air now that he was up higher.

'Now Ollie, we’ve got a friend coming to visit us today, remember?’

Ollie nodded, still swooping his rocket through the air, just as the doorbell rang. You started slightly, even though you’d been expecting it and walked towards the front door. Ollie squirmed to be put down, his independent streak back with a vengeance, but as soon as you opened the door, he hid behind your legs.

And there was Chris, smiling and relaxed as ever, and your heart skipped what felt like several beats.

'Hi,’ you breathed, stepping back slightly to let him in, Ollie moving with you.

'Hi,’ he replied, stepping through the door, not taking his eyes from your face. It felt so weird not to kiss him hello, but you agreed that you wouldn’t do anything in front of Ollie until he’d gotten used to Chris’ presence. This was all about making sure Ollie was comfortable so you were holding back.

'Ollie, this is Chris, our friend who is visiting us today. Remember we just spoke about him?’

***

Chris looked down to see a small head of fine, fair hair peeking from around your legs shyly. He immediately sank to the floor, crouching so that he was on Ollie’s level.

'Hi Ollie, its nice to meet you. Your mommy has told me so many good things about you.’

Ollie darted back behind your legs, giggling nervously.

'Come on Ol,’ you encouraged, 'come out and say hi. Why don’t you show Chris your rocket?’

'Oh my goodness, have you got a rocket?’ Chris spoke animatedly, getting Ollie’s attention again. It was his favourite toy and he loved showing it off, 'Well guess what, I brought my space rocket too.’

And although you knew you shouldn’t have been too surprised, you were a little bit when Chris produced a toy space rocket from behind his back, just different enough from Ollie’s to make him want to investigate. So he took a few halting steps towards Chris, rocket in hand, as Chris held the toy out to him.

'Well I can see that your rocket is really cool. What colour is the tip of yours?’

'Blue!’ The answer burst forth from the little boy, excited to be able to talk about his favourite thing.

'And what colour’s mine?’

'Red!’ Ollie told Chris proudly, pointing at Chris’ rocket.

'Wow, aren’t you clever?!’ Chris told him and he beamed back, 'Would you like to play with my rocket for a little while?’

Ollie nodded and hesitantly took the toy from Chris’ hand as he offered it to him. As soon as he had it in his grip, he was off through the house, zooming the two toys around as he went.

Chris stood up and gave you a quick kiss against your smiling cheek now that Ollie was off running around the kitchen.

'What did I tell you? It was all going to be fine,’ Chris said triumphantly.

'All right, baby whisperer!’ you rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly against his shoulder, 'How did you even know about the rocket?’

'You told me about it one time. I do listen to you when you talk, you know?’ He threw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you in close to his body.

'You know he’ll be begging for you to play with him and those rockets in about ten minutes time?’ You warned him, a palm against his warm chest.

'That’s what I’m hoping for,’ he said quietly against your hair, 'Come on, let’s go see what he’s up to.’

And with that, Chris lead you through to the kitchen where you could hear Ollie’s toddling footsteps running around on the floorboards.

He was a natural, you thought to yourself with a smile, and, fingers crossed, this might just all work out.

[wallpaperpainting]

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[notesfromthepen]

THE MAKING OF AN OUTLAW

THE MAKING OF AN OUTLAW

I was five years old when I smoked my first cigarette. 

It took me and my best friend john a week of planing. Which is an eternity when your five. A few days in and we seriously considered just waiting until we were adults. But the plan was already in motion.

We lived in military housing for enlisted men with families in Fort Campbell Kentucky. Military brats. We stayed just a few houses from one another. Initially you might think that growing up on a military base would provide the much needed structure and discipline to otherwise deviant youths. You'd be wrong. In a way we were all children of single parent households. The patriarchs were gone all day, at the same time, creating a "Lord of the Flies" free-for-all for the hordes of adolescents that swarmed the base. Many firsts in my life happened on military bases. Where men are men and kids are heathens.

John and I were best friends, more like co-parented brothers actually. We spent most of our time at his house. He had all the cool shit, namely a Nintendo game system. Our households were very different. Both with macho, old school, fathers who believed a good ass whooping trumps a good talking to every time. But that's where the similarities ended.

My house was what you'd probably expect of a decorated military man and war hero. The air of a no nonsense authoritarian rule filled our dwelling and my psyche. However that was only when dad was there. Mom was the complete counter balance to dads energy. A punk rock chick that spent her teens partying with bands and madman like the Ramones, MC5, and Patti Smith. Mom has always been a free thinking, tough, rebellious, and completely loving woman. It was a completely odd paring but the balance of the two extremes worked well. 

Johns house was a completely different vibe. Where my house had two strong personalities that competed for control. Johns had one clear ruler and his agenda was decadence and fun. They had all the newest toys and implements of entertainment. Big TVs, calico vision, VCR's and...... A Nintendo Entertainment System!.. The N.E.S! For those of you who were born in to a world with preexisting gaming systems I cannot over state the mind blowing affect of the first Nintendo system.

Johns parents smoked like chimneys, drank competitively and had a knee high stack of playboys next to the toilet.. A fucking wonderland for a kid. I wasn't aware of the term "white trash" at the time and even of I was, if that's what they were, I would have thought of it as high praise. 

All the houses on the base were the same. Bare bones, two bedroom houses with a flat roofs and a wooden sheds towards the back. 

Much of the neighborhood debauchery took place in or around those sheds.

Its rare to be able to pin point exactly when and where you became a man. For me it was the first time a caught a glimpse of the inside of johns dads shed. Every inch was plastered with the centerfolds of adult magazines. Vixens with giant breasts, startling tan lines and even more startling bushes (it was the eighties). It might sound tame now, in the post internet world of porn hub but trust me when I tell you it was life changing. Im pretty sure that I sprouted a single pube right there on the spot.

Neither me or John were saints before our latest plan. We'd both sipped the last swigs in our dads beers before, took part in petty vandalism, had been into our fare share of fights, and we were now both veterans of perusing adult magazines, and so we decided the next logical step in our initiation into adulthood was to start smoking cigarettes. Again...We were five!

It wasn't a complex plan, however it was high risk. Since we were practically men now a lil risk was nothing to be afraid of. 

We made a list of the implements necessary to accomplish our goals. It was a short list: A lighter, two cigarettes, and that's pretty much it. We would get the supplies in stages. We decided to get the cigarettes first. They would be the least likely to be missed. If we made it through phase one unnoticed and unscathed then we would proceed to phase two operation "fire grab". Which was just the stealing of a lighter.

The heist would take place at johns house because, well, my parents didn't smoke. We staked out the area, the players, and the goods for a full day. Johns dad was a "no-go" for several reasons. one: he wasn't there during the day. Two (and far more importantly): was the real threat of physical violence. Johns mom, on the other hand, was there all day, left her cigarettes in the kitchen, and we were confident that we could out run her if shit went sideways. She would be the mark. 

The next day we would snag one cigarette from her pack, stash it,.and repeat the process the following day, as to not arouse the suspicion that two missing cigarettes might cause.

John showed up at my house right after breakfast. We walked to his place and formulated our plan of action. Since his mom was never stationary for too long we'd need a distraction. That would be johns job. Leaving the thievery to yours truly.

We approached his front door. My heart rate began to increase as we closed in on the threshold to the little square house. Upon entering, the kitchen was immediately on the left. John pointed a the table at the far end of the kitchen. He mouthed the words "right there". A soft pack of cigarettes sat under a red lighter perched atop the table. I tip toed into the kitchen as he went to run interference on our unsuspecting mark. His mom sat on the couch in the living room folding laundry in front of the TV. Between the laundry and the soap opera drama she was completely enthralled. In hind sight our "distraction" was not only completely unnecessary but it almost did us in. As I approached the table and silently lifted the lighter off the the pack of smokes, John said "hey mom whatcha doing?" 

There were two doors leading into the kitchen. One in the entryway of the house and the other, at the other opened into the living room, where johns mom sat with her back to me and the table. If she turned around she would have immediately saw me handling her pack of cigs.

Johns question startled her out of her soap induced trance. She briefly looked around. I froze with lighter in one hand a her pack of smokes in the other. My heart had never beat so fast. Just before her head swung around far enough to witness the crime in progress John picked up the remote and changed the channel. "Can we watch Space Balls?" asked my codefendant. She stopped dead in her tracks “Goddamn it John!! Go out side and play!" To this day I've yet to meet more than a handful of people more capable than a five year old John in that moment.

As quick as a magician I pulled a single cigarette from the pack, placed it back on the table and positioned the red lighter on top, exactly as I found them. 

With the contraband secured we shot out of the house like two bottle rockets. The screen door slammed behind us partially trapping the string of obscenities that followed.

Once far enough away we slowed to a walk. My heart still pounding but in a different way. 

So began my true addiction. An addiction to that special mix of adrenaline and chaos brought on by the subverting of rules. An addiction that has followed me like a shadow for my entire life.

It wasn't the first cigarette that I'd ever seen but it felt like it.I rolled it between my fingers examining its details. I looked the little brown filter with the tiny imperfections in the coloring. I noticed the horizontal lines, so thin that they were almost invisible, on the white paper of the cigarette. I stuck it under my nose like a fake mustache and inhaled the aroma. it smelled so much nicer that the ones in he ashtrays at johns house. I looked around before letting it hang from between my lips like I'd seen the neighborhood teens do at the park. John was less enamored by the spoils of our heist. He'd probably already done this foreplay to smoking a few times.

We made it to the shed of a uninhabited house on my street. I went in and stashed the cigarette on one of the two by fours in the dark wooden box. Step one was now complete.

The plan was to let another day pass before going back to snag the remaining implements of our delinquency.

The next day, our day of inaction, crept by at a snails pace. We bull shitted around trying to distract ourselves from the single cigarette waiting to be smoked in the empty shed. 

There were two parks on the base: Sunny park and Shady park. At that age things are clearly defined, either black or white. There aren't many grey areas when your five. The two parks on the base were perfect representations of this hard line. The parks gained their nicknames obviously enough; one was sunny and the other shady. But the meanings ran deeper and its taken years of perspective to fully appreciate the depth and meaning of the two parks.

Sunny park was designed by convince. The block of houses in the center of the neighborhood created a huge field in their collective backyards. In the center of this sea of green sat the makings of a playground: swing sets, monkey bars, a slide, a merry-go-round and a big dome of interconnecting metal bars that created a geometric contraption to play on or bash your shins against. Not a single tree or bush grew in the field. Every inch was bathed in unobstructed sunlight and every action visible from the rear windows of the surrounding houses. Windows constantly manned by the bored and nosey housewives of the enlisted men. 

No one under the age of twelve used Sunny park for anything other than a short cut to the other park.

Shady park, on the other hand, was designed by no one.

Shady park was tucked away in a wooded area, on the outskirts of the neighborhood, hence the name. Dirt paths leading in and out of the park cut between the towering trees. The occasional few rays of sunlight that made it through the foliage created islands of light on the park floor.

I'd walked past Shady park everyday on my way to school. From the side walk you could hear the older kids in the park skipping school. The crash of breaking bottles, foul language, and general teenage revelry was the soundtrack to my walk. Every few steps I'd catch a glimpse of the forbidden playground and its inhabitants. A mixture of fear and excitement gave goosebumps to my skin.

So in an attempt to burn through the rest of our day, while we waited for tomorrow to bring us phase two of our heist, we decided that we were ready for a romp through the darker of the two parks. After all, we were just a few days and a couple of puffs on a cigarette away from becoming men.

I remind you that this was the eighties. A decade where the, now cliche, douchebag bullies from eighties movies really existed. 

Around the same time one of my cousin Judy's "friends", complete with long ratty hair, fingerless gloves, and a single dangly cross earring, flinched at me like he was gonna punch me in the face and said "Fuck you pussy!" Again, I was five! He must have been seventeen going on forty. I was so young, small, and Asian that he had to flinch down at me.. This goon was completely serious too. A hundred percent unaware. It was so par for the course at the time that only after entering adulthood did I realize how ridiculous it was. 

Man I miss those days and that specific brand of asshole. And I only mention this to give reason for our trepidation of Shady park and the characters we were likely to meet up with.

John came over and we walked towards the park. We approached the foot path that lead into the park. A path that I'd walked past a thousand times, always knowing, in the back of my mind, that the time would come when I was meant to follow it. Today was that day. Ten steps in and we were in a different world. It was oddly quiet and noticeably darker. The thought that we'd interrupt a group truant teens knee deep in some sort of unholy communion made me queazy. John was the silent type but I knew he felt the same. 

About ten yards in, the narrow dirt path split in two, then three, then four paths, before opening up to the Shadiest of parks.

Huge sections of concrete tubes, big enough for us to walk through, littered the park at random intervals and angles. The left over artifacts of some unfinished drainage project. Each cylinder with its own custom smattering of spray painted obscenities and vulgar pictograms. Some familiar others confusing. On one tube, a giant red dick seemed to be assaulting some sort of hairy clam standing on end.

The park felt and sounded empty. 

We huddled in the first tube that we came to, the one with the clam, to get our bearings. The bottom of the tube glittered with jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, and gems of every color crunched under our feet. At the opening of the other end of the tube sat the biggest gem id ever seen. An emerald with part of a 7up logo on it. Some of the smaller shards had been there so long that their edges were dull and rounded. We picked the best ones and put them in our pockets, to build our fortunes with later.

We exited the concrete tunnel and made our way into the heart of the park. An old swing set was the center piece. Large chunks of green paint had been chipped away exposing rusted metal. The stillness and the silence made for an eerie setting. John kicked one of the swings. The chains creaked and rattled forever. It was like time stopped. Like we were un-welcomed visitors. We were technically [in] the park but something was off. We were tourists. Sightseers... Trespassers. 

We walked to the decrepit merry-go-round and sat down. It groaned under our insignificant weight. I don't remember what we said. Probably nothing. John kicked at some pebbles. The chains of the swing set eventually went silent. 

Finally, I said "let's get outta here." 

We walked home in relative silence. I knew that things would be different once we smoked those cigarettes. The forbidden part of the world would finally open up to us. We'd be adults. We'd be enlightened.

I could hardly sleep the night before the next phase of the heist. It was like Christmas morning. I woke early, poured a bowl of cereal, and sat down in front of the TV. Before I could drink the pink tinted milk from the bowl John was at the door.

"Bobby, John's here." I jumped up, tossed the bowl into the sink, and ran outside.

When I saw john he was already smiling. "You ready?" he asked. 

Now, the plan was to grab the last cigarette today and the lighter tomorrow. So I assumed he meant "was I ready for phase two?" When in fact he meant "Are you ready to do this?" 

He looked around before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a a single cigarette and a red lighter! What i did to deserve such a sneaky, conniving, grab the bull by the horns, type of best friend like John I'll never know, but I was grateful.

My palms started to sweat. Hesitation and fear fought for control. Reasons to abandon our plan suddenly flooded my mind. However it didn't take long for another kind of fear, the fear of looking like a pussy, to override my better judgement. Such is life. 

With chests out, strutting like roosters we walked to our shed of inequities. Some of the neighborhood kids were gathered in a driveway. They couldn't help but notice the confidence. Or maybe it was the cigarette that dangled from my lips. I pretended not to notice them as we neared, feigning a conversation with John. 

One of the kids, I can't remember his name, ran up and asked "John, what you guys doing? That ain't a real cigarette is it?" 

To which I smirked at him. 

"Nothing" said John and we kept walking. John flicked the lighter as we made our way down the street.

We made it the house, up the side and to the shed out back. John struggled to open the door. He had to lean with all his weight to force it open. 

I followed him into the dark and musty wooden box. I grabbed the cigarette that we'd stashed away and tried to hand it to John. His back was to me as he leaned his head out the door.

"Get outta here, we're busy!" 

"Here" I said and handed him the cigarette. As he took it I glanced out the door. The two boys we walked past were coming up the side yard. I pretended to be pissed but was secretly glad to have an audience. I mean what was the point of being an outlaw if no one was there to witness it? 

At this point the cigarettes were merely symbolic. 

"Forget them" I said.."Gimme the lighter." 

I grabbed the lighter and flicked it several times before it sprung a flame.

This was years before burn stop cigarettes and child-proof lighters that infuriate the drunk and elderly smokers of today. 

I held the lighter out and lit johns cigarette before lighting mine. 

I need to make this perfectly clear. At the time I had absolutely no idea how to inhale. The idea alone would have confused me. As far as I was concerned you just puffed on the cigarette by pulling air into your mouth. But none of it really mattered. This wasn't about smoking anymore. It was about rebellion.

We both stood there puffing away, filling the small shed with smoke almost immediately. I did my best impression of an outlaw who had done this a thousand times. But the fact that my eyes were starting to water from the smoke almost gave me away for the rookie I was. 

As I fought back the tears two more nosey kids made their way up to the shed. It was the two black girls that lived next door to me. They were sisters (I mean that in their relation not color, though I guess both could apply). I don't remember their names and any attempt to guess would probably just come off as a tad "stereotype". 

I do remember that, of the two, I liked the younger one. She was sweet and funny. Her older sister was an asshole, already jaded by the ripe old age of seven. She was mean and spiteful. I was actually glad that she was there to witness my bad-assery, maybe now she would give me the respect that I deserved. 

The entire time the onlookers said nothing. They just stood witness, looking dumbfounded. 

We finished our cigarettes, left the shed, and walked through the kids gathered around the shed. The older of my neighbors, the jaded seven yr old, said "ewwwwww" in a admonishing tone as we walked by.

John and I walked home together. The only words spoken were his":I gotta get this lighter back." I nodded and we parted ways. 

I got home and went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I went to my room and sat on my bed. I sat there staring at my Hulk Hogan poster and realized that I didn't feel any different. I wasn't more mature. I wasn't more bad-ass. I wasn't an Outlaw..

Some time passed, it felt like hours but I can't be sure, when my mom opened my door a crack and said "don't go anywhere your dad wants to talk to you when he gets home." My heart sank. I knew it was a wrap. Right then and there I knew it was over. A mixture of panic, embarrassment, and fear set in.

I wasn't a tough guy. I was a scared kid afraid of an ass whipping.

It turns out that as soon as we left the shed the neighbor girl ratted me out. My dad came home, promptly threatened to hand me a sore ass, reminded me that I was anything but a tough guy compared to him, and grounded me for a month.

So there it was: my life as an outlaw had started and ended in a single afternoon.

Life has a strange way of giving you, not what you want, but only what you're ready for in that exact moment. And there's no way of cheating life. No way of speeding up the process.

And so for the time being, Shady park and my life as an outlaw would have to wait...

[depressedpuffin-blog]

Little Scarlet

A supernatural story about twins and family distress

Chapter 1 (1756 Words)

On the average night of August 27, 1999, Craig Trant rushed his wife, Elizabeth, to the hospital. Twelve long hours later, Elizabeth gave birth to identical twins. It was an unexpected gift, and Craig forever recalled their similarity even as they were newborns. The two babies, named Sidney and Scarlet, brother and sister, were exactly alike. They grew into the same features. Their hair was curly and brunette, they had square jaws, small but perfect noses, and hazel eyes. They used the same mannerisms. Both of the children would play their lip when they were deep in thought. They both performed an odd series of finger twiddling whenever they were nervous, where they would wrap one finger over the next. Elizabeth believed it was nurture, Craig believed it was their nature, and both adored watching the two twins grow with each other.

Within a few years Sidney and Scarlet became inseparable. They hung on each other, relying only on one another for friendship. They had bunk beds, but they would both lay on the top bunk and play. Sometimes they would draw unattractive, four-year-old doodles. Sometimes they would have thumb wars and play with toy cars. But other times, when Craig and Elizabeth were asleep, one would lay on the other's chest, and listen to the heartbeat.

"Scar?" Sidney would ask.

"Sid?"

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

"Can you still hear my heart?"

"Yes."

"Is it keeping you awake?"

"No."

And true to that word, Scarlet would soon fall asleep on Sidney's chest. That was most nights. It was almost ritual. Elizabeth would always worry that they were becoming too affectionate for each other, that they would become codependent. Craig never worried about it though. He enjoyed watching them together too much.

When it came time for Sidney and Scarlet to start kindergarten, their parents expected they might drift further apart than they had been for those first years. While both of them did try to find friends, neither succeeded much in the endeavor. The problem often was that the twins only really tried to have fun with other children in the ways they were used to. The boys did not want to draw like Sidney did. The girls did not want to play with toy cars. Eventually, they were brought back to leaning on each other, and so it was not the worst thing. They carried each other through the first years of school. One tutored the other if they were confused with homework. Never alone, they were as happy as if they had a crowd of friends at their heels.

Elizabeth ultimately came to feel anxiety whenever she would see Sidney and Scarlet doing their usual activities. She feared the worst, and any small effort to spread the two never came to fruition. She would shout at Craig. She would tell him to take Sidney to do boy things, and that she would take Scarlet to do girl things, and they would naturally come apart just enough. So Craig would haul Sidney off to the park, and try his hand at things like baseball and walking him through car shows — both of which Craig never indulged in in his years — and Sidney enjoyed himself. He was an excitable seven year old boy after all. And when Elizabeth took Scarlet to a nice lunch and put her in pretty things, Scarlet enjoyed herself just the same. Yet, each one would ask, at some point, why their sibling couldn't come, and the parent would have little idea how to answer.

Eventually grades like third and fourth came, where a child may be harassed for being impersonal with the other boys and girls. They were simply branded as the "Weird Twins", and nobody tried to talk to them. This neglection made them happy furthermore, and they continued to develop side by side. They would often sit on the blacktop, far enough from the basketball court where they could be ignored.

"Sid?" Scarlet asked, folding her fingers, one over the other.

"Scar?"

"You can go play with them if you want. I'll watch."

"Basketball?" Sidney laughed. "I'm no good."

"How do you know? You've never tried."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"Why would I want to play with them anyway? Sidney asked. "They'll just say no."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

Scarlet kept folding her fingers within each other, making them white at the tips. Sidney watched them.

"Why do you think I want to play basketball with the boys?"

"Because I see you watching them."

"You're supposed to watch sports."

"So you don't want to play?"

"Not with them." He smiled at her and got up and ran to the big net of basketballs. He pulled one out and dribbled it slowly, smacking it on top with outstretched fingers and sometimes missed entirely. He dribbled the ball up until he was at her feet and stared down at her with a smile.

"Come on," he said.

She looked at him warily, but couldn't help but show the smile that was edging at her lips. They ran to an unused court and played basketball. Sidney would stand past the three-point line and hurl the ball towards the net like he was a shot putter. Scarlet would grasp the ball on either side and throw from above her head. A couple shots were made out of dozens that day, but they did come home and ask their parents for a basketball hoop. When Elizabeth said no, they went to Craig, and he obliged.

"You've got to come pick it out with me though," Craig said. "I'm not bringing home one that's too tall or too short and getting yelled at by you two."

They happily agreed and were in the car before he was. Elizabeth was gone, grabbing dinner from the grocer, so she wouldn't be any the wiser. Craig got in the car and the twins were already buckled in the back. He always chuckled at such a sight. Even though they were nine years old, he pictured them as identical newborns in that nursery in '99.

They started off, zooming through the suburban neighborhoods. Sidney and Scarlet would stare out of their respective windows in the same manner too. Hazel eyes glowing, like dogs the first time they look out such a window. At a stop sign Craig checked on them in the rearview mirror, adjusting it back and forth to observe. He readjusted it and started from the stop. From the right he heard it. The kids didn't because they never knew to listen for it. It was a pickup truck, never intending on stopping at the intersection. The front end slammed into the right side of the family's sedan. The door and roof dented in like paper being crunched within one's palm. The chomp of the metal and plastic echoed through that intersection. The skid of the tires made thick black lines along the road.

Sidney was on the left, and Scarlet was on the right. The force acted on Scarlet with such power that there was barely any need for the car door to be between her and the pickup truck's grill. Her young, feeble bones shattered instantly. She was devoured by the collapse of plastic shards and metal parts. Glass shattered and bounced off Sidney's skin. The roof dented in and bashed the right side of Sidney's head. He, nor Craig, saw what the crash had brutally done to Scarlet. When Craig woke up he was being put on a gurney and placed inside an ambulance. He wrenched within his restraints, screaming in agony and at the need for his children.

Sidney did not wake up within such short minutes though. It was almost a week before he woke up, coated in white blankets inside a hospital room. Elizabeth was asleep, laying curled up in the chair in the corner of the room. He looked at her blankly.

"Mom?" he asked.

She hadn't heard many voices all the times she slept in that room, so when his weak voice came out she was quickly wrenched from sleep. She looked upon Sidney's beaten face. Gauze covered the right side of his head. She started crying and rushed to him, putting her hands on both sides of his neck. Her tears fell on his cheeks, and still, he looked on her blankly.

Then a thought powerful enough to force tears was summoned.

"Where is Scarlet?" Sidney asked.

Elizabeth's soft cries quickly turned to sobs. She shook her head, refusing to speak.

"Where's Dad? He'll tell me. What happened to Scarlet?"

Elizabeth collapsed back into the chair and cried hysterically into her hands. Sidney slowly swept his legs off the side of his hospital bed. The nurse came in. She rushed by his bed side and put him back straight.

"No. No!" He struggled like a baby. Groaned like one too. "I want my dad. I want my sister."

An extra nurse and a doctor soon rushed into the room, and what could not be explained by his mother was hence told. Sidney grabbed his sheets with weak fingers and squeezed and pulled. He cried, but not like his mother. While she sobbed uncontrollably, she watched him through her fingers, and he cried softly and silently. She couldn't read his face. Neither could the doctor. Elizabeth suspected shock. The doctor suspected something much worse.

The next day Sidney was put through an MRI, and the following day the doctor came to the room with news the collapsed Elizabeth once again. Trauma to Sidney's brain had caused permanent damage of his amygdala. Elizabeth did not know what that meant so the doctor painfully explained. At the end she understood. She understood the blank faces, the scarceness of his tears. Her boy would never be the emotional boy he was before. Her husband was laid up, bones broken. Her daughter was never going to be there to talk to again. She cried herself to sleep at night, and she cried herself to sleep in the middle of the day.

The experience was somewhat different for Sidney. He hadn't spoken since before the MRI. He hadn't spoken of the silhouette in the darkest corner of his hospital room. The one that was folding finger over finger. He could see Scarlet. She looked back at him. He was almost convinced that he had been lied to about her death, but he didn't care. He just looked on her, because she just looked on him.

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