#so much so that someone tagged it as an au

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙opposites attract | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x tattoo artist!reader y/n (she/her) x alexandra saint mleux

genre: social media au, polyamory

warnings: polyamory, some sexual innuendo

summary: in which no one actually believes your new partners could actually like you

a/n: LOVE this request i jus chose charles & alex coz i figured they r both sweet and tattooless LOL they dnt rly match y/n vibe hehe i luv it tysmmm

request!!!: reader is a tattoo artist of at least heavily tattooed. I’m talking big tattoos all over her body. I imagine that no one believes they could be together let alone be friends because it’s someone you totally wouldn’t expect to be with a driver and his girlfriend? I’m open for any driver x wag pair :))

my masterlist

fc: aussiedomxo on ig

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 monaco

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff, and others

yourusername so much fun in monaco this week – got to do some super cool tattoos among other things!

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user1 alex in the likes

user2 why would they be friends 💀

user3 we dont know them lol. be srs rn

user4 she's so cool

yourbff sooo cool

yourusername ilysm

user5 who's the man lol

user6 who is she???

user7 tattoo artist who's been seen out with alex

user8 who cares bro 😂

user9 idk ppl r so dramatic and nosy lol

alexandrasaintmleux me next! 🙋‍♀️

yourusername i could never mark that glorious skin of yours

alexandrasaintmleux not what you were saying last night .......

charles_leclerc 😂😂😂

user10 urmmm WHAT

user11 excuse me lol

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by user12, yourusername, and others

f1wagupdates (your nationality) tattoo artist y/n y/l/n was spotted driving one of charles leclerc's cars this weekend in italy, following rumours of her newfound "friendship" with him and his girlfriend, alexandra saint mleux

tagged: yourusername

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user18 stop it hahahaha

user19 is this some elaborate prank

user20 not y/n liking this post lol

user21 i kind of love her

user22 threesome alert threesome alert

user23 our unbothered queen y/n

yourbff she looks good in red

liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others

user24 omg hello????!???!

yourusername posted a story

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, and others

user25 there's no way charles & alex like u covered in all that 💀

alexandrasaintmleux wow

yourusername i am not worthy of you

charles_leclerc my love 😻

yourusername meow

charles_leclerc oh stop it you

user26 me when i love women

user27 wow the tats r so cool

user28 charles & alex have rich prince and princess vibes & then there's y/n

user29 trashy tbh

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and others

charles_leclerc wow look at her 😻

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

francisca.cgomes love her!! bring her to a raceeee

alexandrasaintmleux all in good time 🤓

user30 omg y/n again??

user31 why are u always with her now

user32 where's charles!!!

user33 this pairing makes no sense

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername, and others

charles_leclerc home life lately

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user34 AHHHHH stop it

user35 omg wait what?

user36 WAS THREESOME ALERT THREESOME ALERT REAL???

user37 YESSSS F1 POLYAMORY

user38 maybe they're just friends??? everyone always wants ppl to be dating

user39 be fr...

alexandrasaintmleux our tattooed goddess 💘

charles_leclerc she is so majestic!

alexandrasaintmleux unbelievably beautiful

charles_leclerc oh, i believe it 😌

yourusername GUYS. stop it im blushing

user40 AHH NO WAYY

user41 where are the charlesalexyn deniers now

user42 omgg they are so mismatched but in the best ways possible

user43 i can't believe it's real omg

user44 literally i didnt believe it at first

yourusername im so lucky to know you guys! you know what they say, opposites attract 😉

charles_leclerc forever and always ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux our missing piece 🧩

THE END ❤️

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Jacked Up Love

Jack Hughes X Best Friend! Reader

(Brothers Best Friend AU)

a.n: I have been bouncing around my living room as I typed this up. I have so many ideas for this fic since I want it to be on the longer side. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, alcohol usage, allusion to cheating.

masterlist link

Summary: Caught between a secret crush and family loyalty, she shares an undeniable, electric connection with his best friend, Jack Hughes. Haunted by her feelings and the fear of Lee's reaction, Y/N finds solace in a cozy girls' night where her friends encourage her to take a chance on love.

word count - 3184

...

The music thumped through the crowded living room, the bass reverberating off the walls and shaking the floor beneath your feet. Partygoers spilled out into every available space, red solo cups clutched in their hands as they swayed to the rhythm of the beat.

It was your twin brother Lee's birthday bash, a wild celebration that would seamlessly transition into yours once the clock struck midnight.

Red and purple lights flashed in sync with the music, casting colorful shadows over the throng of people. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat, slowly beginning to choke you.

The living room was a chaotic blend of laughter, shouted conversations, and the clinking of cups, with decorations hastily thrown together to give the place a festive feel.

As much as you wanted to enjoy this moment for your brother, you couldn't. The music, the cake your friends had painstakingly made, the thoughtful gifts scattered across a table – none of it could lift the heavy weight in your heart. You were drowning in the secret you'd been carrying for months, maybe even years.

Through the haze of bodies and strobe lights, your gaze locked with a pair of striking blue eyes. Jack Hughes, Lee's best friend and the object of your forbidden affection, stared back at you intensely from across the room.

The connection between you two was electric, undeniable, a connection girls would kill for – but also utterly wrong. You knew his fan girls would kill for that look, that moment alone with him.

You quickly averted your eyes, guilt twisting in your gut.

The pulsating energy of the party seemed to mock your inner turmoil, each beat of the music hammering home the impossibility of your feelings. You took a sip from your cup, hoping the alcohol might dull the ache, but it only served to remind you of the secret you could never share.

As the minutes ticked down to midnight, the anticipation in the room grew. People began to chant Lee's name, the excitement palpable. But all you could think about was the man standing just a few feet away, and the forbidden connection that both thrilled and tormented you.

Instead of suffering in the heat of his presence, you made your way to the kitchen for a refill, snippets of conversation floated past you. But one hushed whisper from Lee's girlfriend made you freeze in your tracks.

"Mhmm yeah I know right!!” she whisper-shouted. “But did you hear? Jack's seeing someone on the side that no one knows about," she murmured conspiratorially to her wide-eyed friend. "But she came and told me. She’s my friend’s cousin. Apparently, he's been sneaking around with her for weeks now."

Your blood ran cold as the words sank in and your breath hitched as you tried to gasp for air but it ceased to work. The room seemed to tilt around you. Jack was cheating?

But how could that be, when just last night he'd held you in his arms and promised that you two would find a way to tell your brother about your secret relationship?

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around to see Jack standing there, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said quietly, urgently. "Meet me upstairs in five minutes."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you reeling. Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of it all. What the fuck was going on?

Trembling slightly, you ascended the stairs, navigating each step slowly on your wobbly legs. You had a sinking feeling that whatever awaited you in the room above would change everything - for better or for worse. The only question was, were you ready to face the truth?

…

5 months prior…

You'd known Jack since childhood, as he and your brother Lee had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the epitome of popularity in high school.

His easygoing charm and infectious laugh made him a magnet for attention, and he reveled in teasing you relentlessly about the most trivial matters. You had always brushed off his playful flirting, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, but it wasn't until sophomore year that you started seeing him differently.

It happened gradually at first - lingering glances across the cafeteria, a flutter in your stomach whenever he flashed that crooked grin. But by junior prom, you were head over heels.

You could still remember that night vividly. Jack had shown up at your door looking unfairly gorgeous in his tailored suit, ready to pick up Lee for their double date.

When his eyes met yours, time seemed to slow. "Wow, Y/N," he'd said softly, his gaze raking over your dress appreciatively. "You look beautiful."

Your cheeks had flushed scarlet at the compliment, and in that moment, you knew you were a goner. As Jack and Lee posed for photos, laughing and joking around, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the tall, athletic figure of your brother's best friend.

You loved the way his dark hair flopped over his forehead boyishly, the way his blue eyes sparkled with mischief and intelligence. He was charming and quick-witted, always ready with a joke or a sarcastic quip. But beneath that cocky exterior, you sensed a deep loyalty, a steadfast devotion to those he cared about.

That summer, you found yourself spending more and more time with Jack and Lee, the three of you lounging by the pool or goofing off playing video games.

Every accidental brush of Jack's hand against yours set your skin on fire. You lived for those little moments - a shared inside joke, a knowing glance when Lee said something ridiculous.

Now you found yourself engrossed in videos on your phone as you lay on your side in your bedroom. You felt the weight of the bed shift as it dipped on the other side and a pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, a low, husky voice whispered in your ear, “Miss me?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar timbre. “Definitely not,” you scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. “Did you need something, or are you just here to bother me with your existence?”

Jack chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “You're way too serious,” he whispered, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer. “You need to relax once in a while, you know...”

“God Jack, you're such a fuckboy,” you muttered, voice strained as you weakly fought against his hold, worming your way off your side.

He laughed softly, tightening his grip on your waist. “Aww, don't say that like it's a bad thing,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead. Over the years you had grown used to Jacks subtle affection, but that didn’t help the skip of your heart anytime he came with an inch of you.

“Is it *bad* for me to want to hold my best friend's sister?” His words were laced with a playful, almost teasing tone, but his touch was anything but playful.

It was possessive, almost desperate, and it sent shivers down your spine. “Depends on what your intentions are,” you replied curtly, trying to maintain what composure you had left. “You know we're never gonna happen, right? Can't ever and won't ever.”

You knew you were pushing him away but couldn't help it; the thought of anything more than friendship with him felt wrong, forbidden.

Jack shrugged, “you never know,” he whispered, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. “There could always be a chance...”

His words were a dangerous siren song, tempting with a future you knew you couldn't have. “Trust me, I know Jack.” You whispered back, heart thrumming against its cage like a frantic drum. The sound of your racing heartbeat was a betrayal, a secret you feared Jack would overhear.

“You're nervous,” he whispered against your cheek. “I can hear and feel your heart, it’s so loud y/n… am I making you nervous?”

Panic surged through you at his words and suddenly you felt the need to get away. “oh my god, do you hear that? I think my brother's calling me,” you said placing your hand against your ear, dramatically looking towards the door as if searching for his voice. You finally broke free from his hold.

You readjusted your clothes, trying to regain your composure and walked towards the door, turning back to look at Jack with a forced smile. “Come on!”

“But we were just getting to the exciting part,” he whines, adjusting himself into a seated position. An idea sparks into his mind, and he proposed, “Why don't you go check on your brother while I stay in your room? When you're ready, come fetch me.”

He gave you a sly grin, raising his eyebrows suggestively while he relaxed himself against the headboard.  

“No way,” you protest, marching towards jack and firmly grasping his strong, muscular arm. “Let's go.” Undeterred, he readily follows your lead, allowing you to pull Jack to his feet.

“Alright then, I suppose you're just not in the mood for some playful banter,” He say with a shrug, trailing behind you as you exit your room.

…

As you both made your way down the stairs, you can't help but be drawn to the pictures of Lee and you that adorn the walls. Each one brings back a flood of memories, creating a timeline of your life, that is both heartwarming and bittersweet.

Your eyes come to a stop on a black and white photo of Jack and yourself from three years ago, taken in the very room upstairs on senior prom night.

Jack takes note of you pausing beside him, his eyes following yours to the photo. A small smile tugs at the corners of jack’s mouth as he take in the sight of you both looking so young and carefree. “Ah, I remember that night...” jack says softly, laughing softly. “God, you were a pain in the ass...' he teased, his voice full of affection.

“Like you were any better,” you shoot back, nudging your arm playfully.

Jack laughed, unable to deny the truth in your words. “Hey, at least I didn't whine and complain the whole time. You promised me that if I went to this party with you that you wouldn't complain, but of course you did...” he trailed off, recalling the events of that night.

You pause, mock-offended at his accusation. "Me? Complain? Never! I was just expressing my opinions on the music selection. There's a difference, you know," you say, pretending to be scandalized.

"And it's not my fault your fan girls kept stepping on my feet,” you say with a mock glare. “What even happened to that one girl? Weren't you supposed to go to prom with her that night?”

“You mean Jennifer? It seems like a lifetime ago now.” Jack raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Yeah, I was supposed to go to prom with her, but she was a bore. I didn’t plan on going to prom with her to begin with.” He admits.

“Being with her felt... forced. It didn't feel right. She found herself a different guy to go with anyway." He shrugs again, not bothered in the least. “But what about you? Who were you going to go with, huh?”

You look away sheepishly. “You’re the only person I asked.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, a flicker of surprise in those azure eyes. But then he smiled softly, feeling a warmth in his heart at your words. "Did you secretly have a crush on me back then or something?" he teases, with a hearty laugh.

“In your dreams.” You scoff, pushing his shoulder before continuing down the stairs.

He catches you off guard by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close, smiling brightly at you. “Maybe dreams do come true, you know?” he whispers, "Don't worry, it's okay to admit it. You can't resist this face," jack jested, striking a ridiculously cheesy model pose.

“We could never do that, Jack.” You sigh.  

“Yeah yeah... but…” he trails off as you lean your head onto his shoulder, his arms tightening their grip around you.  He was silent for a moment before he started again. “You feel that?” he whispers, referring to how perfectly your bodies fit together. “It feels like we’re made for each other.”

“Don’t say stuff like that.” You turn in his arms, now facing him.

Jack tilts his head slightly, looking at you. “And why can’t I?” he asks, a sly smile on his face. “You don’t feel it too? That there’s definitely some sparks between us?”

He reaches up, gently cupping your face while he presses his forehead to yours, your lips just barely touching. The warmth of his skin and the scent of his cologne envelop you, creating a bubble of intimacy.

You say nothing, just continue staring into his eyes, your thoughts a whirlpool of confusion and desire. “We were supposed to be down there 10 minutes ago, Jack. Let’s go.”

Jack rolls his eyes slightly, looking back at the photograph before sighing in defeat. “Fine, let’s go then.” the creak of the wooden steps underfoot and the distant hum of conversation from the living room growing louder. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafts from the kitchen, mingling with the tang of lemon cleaning solution.

…

You glance around the living room, searching for your brother's watchful eyes before allowing Jack to veer into the living room. The room is a burst of activity: Lee's friends scream in triumph as they win another round of NHL, their cheers filling the space with infectious energy.

The flicker of the TV screen casts a blueish glow across their faces. Lee huffs deeply, turning his disappointed gaze to Jack as he plops onto the couch, the leather squeaking beneath him.

Jack laughs softly, joining his friend on the couch. “You’re just making it easy at this point,” he chuckles, shaking his head mockingly. The warmth of the room, filled with the scent of popcorn and the underlying hint of teenage sweat, contrasts sharply with the cool leather of the couch.

“I get why you’re losing though; you have other things on your mind…” Jack tilts his head slightly as he speaks, shooting a glance in your direction unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of teasing and unspoken affection.

…

The following weekend, snow fell in thick, lazy flakes, covering the world in a pristine white blanket. Inside, the warmth from the fireplace filled the room, the crackling flames casting a cozy glow that softened the edges of your living room.

Your three closest friends trickled in, each carrying trays of colorful cocktails, the drinks decorated with festive garnishes. Laughter and chatter filled the air as they set the trays on the coffee table, their cheeks rosy from the cold.

"Y/N, this place looks amazing," Sophie exclaimed, shrugging off her coat and hanging it by the door. "And I needed this so much. Work has been a nightmare."

"Tell me about it," Ava chimed in, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a cocktail. "I feel like I haven't slept in days. But tonight, it's all about us."

Mia, the last to arrive, brought a tray of her famous spiked hot chocolate. "Who needs a beach vacation when you have a fireplace and booze?" she joked, handing you a steaming mug.

Jersey Shore played in the background, a comforting, familiar noise that accompanied your weekly girls' night ritual. The girls settled in, curling up on the couch and floor, the room filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon from the candles you had lit.

"So, what’s the latest?" Sophie asked, taking a sip of her cocktail and looking around expectantly. "I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in forever."

Ava leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, you guys are not going to believe what happened at work this week. So, you know that cute new guy in accounting? Well, apparently he's been asking about me!"

Sophie gasped, clasping her hands together. "No way! Tell us everything!"

As Ava launched into a detailed account of her office flirtation, complete with dramatic reenactments, you found yourself relaxing, the warmth of the fire and the camaraderie of your friends soothing the turmoil inside you. For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, sipping your wine and laughing along with the girls.

But just as Ava was getting to the juicy part, Mia turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Okay, enough about Ava's love life. Y/N, we need to talk about you and Jack!"

You nearly choked on your drink, feeling your cheeks heat up. "What? There's nothing to talk about," you protested weakly. Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, you've been crushing on him since high school. It's so obvious. Why haven’t you made a move?”

"Yeah, remember junior prom?" Ava chimed in. "You couldn't take your eyes off him all night. I thought you were going to combust when he told you that you looked beautiful!"

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. "Ugh, don't remind me. I was so awkward back then."

Mia reached over and squeezed your shoulder. "Hey, we've all been there. But seriously, what's stopping you from going for it now? You're both single, you have history... it could be epic!"

You sighed, swirling the wine in your glass. "It’s not that simple. Lee would be so angry if he found out. Jack is his best friend. I don’t want Jack to have to deal with that kind of fallout. And besides, I don’t even know if he likes me the way I like him."

Sophie leaned forward, her expression softening. "But what if things went right? You can't let fear hold you back forever, Y/N. Sometimes you just have to take a chance on love."

The girls exchanged looks before she started again. "Y/N, come on," Sophie said, rolling her eyes. "Any guy would be falling at your feet if you wanted them to. Jack is no exception."

"Yeah," Ava agreed, "and from the way Jack looks at you when he thinks no one's watching? I'd say there's definitely some unfinished business there."

Your heart fluttered at the thought. Could they be right? Was it possible that Jack felt the same way after all these years?

As if reading your mind, Mia grinned. "I think it's time for Operation Seduce Jack Hughes. Who's with me?"

The girls cheered, clinking their glasses together. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of affection for your ridiculous, wonderful friends. "Alright, alright," you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. "I’ll think about it, okay?"

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the giddy thrill of possibility, but in that moment, anything seemed possible. Even a happily ever after with the boy you'd loved for as long as you could remember.

…

Tag List <3

@ru-kru, @rebelatbay

[staytinyville]

Burn It (Pt. 1)

↣ Summary: You were only a decoy for all those who wanted your family off the throne. The real leader was your horrible sister who ruled with fear in their subjects. You only did what was told of you and if others came to assassinate you then so be it. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Eventual!Min Yoongi x Reader, Slight Namjoon x Reader,

↣ Genre: Historical, Mature

↣ AU/Trope info: Historical!au, Queen!Reader, Rebel!Yoongi, 

↣ Word Count: 6.1k

↣ Warnings: Abuse, Toxic household, 

↣ A/N: Honestly I always get inspired by all the historical stories on here and I just really wanted to sit my ass down to write. Part two might just have smut y’all so tell me if you want lmao. Also can you please tell me what you guys think of my writing? I don’t know I want to publish sometime soon but like if I suck at writing why bother.

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Tags: @anyamaris , @kpop-stories-21

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 

You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 

You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.

You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 

You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.

You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 

You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.

“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 

“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.

There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.

“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 

He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 

He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 

She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.

He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 

You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.

“I thought you were going to—”

“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 

“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 

“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 

“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 

The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 

“Wait—”

You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 

But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 

“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.

“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 

“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 

“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.

“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 

“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 

You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 

“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 

You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 

“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.

Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 

“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 

You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 

The only one who did. 

As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 

“Are you truly okay, my queen?”

Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 

He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.

**

The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 

You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 

“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 

“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 

There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 

“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”

He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 

“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 

“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 

You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 

You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 

He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 

No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 

“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”

“Him.” You interrupted your father. 

“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 

You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 

“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”

“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”

“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 

“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 

With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 

“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 

“Agust.” He spoke deeply.

“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.

“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 

“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 

You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 

“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 

Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 

“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”

“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 

Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.

“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 

It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 

“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.

“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.

As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 

Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 

“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 

“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”

“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 

“Because I am your royal guard—”

“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 

He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”

“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 

His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”

“So you know about it?”

“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 

“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 

He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 

There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 

“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.

“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 

He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 

“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”

Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 

“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 

“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 

He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”

**

The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 

“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 

“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 

“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 

“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 

As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 

Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 

There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 

“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 

She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.

Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 

“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.

“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”

His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 

He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 

“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”

“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 

You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 

“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”

The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 

“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 

“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 

“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”

“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 

“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 

He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 

“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 

“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.

Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 

He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 

“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 

“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.

“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”

“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 

“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”

Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.

“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 

He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 

“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”

Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 

“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.

“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 

“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 

“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 

“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.

Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 

“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”

“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 

Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 

The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 

“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  

Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 

“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 

Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”

“They gave her a cold patch.”

He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 

“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  

As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 

“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 

Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 

However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 

“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 

“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 

“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.

“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 

“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 

“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 

“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 

Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 

“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.

“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.

You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 

“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.

“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.

You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”

“It will solve many.” He sneered. 

“That’s what you think.” You told him.

He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.

However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 

“Who?”

“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.

“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 

“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.

You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.

** 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.

“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”

You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”

The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 

“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 

He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.

“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.

When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.

“Leader?” He questioned.

“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”

“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 

There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 

“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 

“Don’t get what?” You questioned.

“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 

“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.

There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 

But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 

“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.

“What is that?” You asked him.

“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.

“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 

“Not what?”

“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 

This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 

“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.

“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 

“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.

“Which job?” He questioned. 

“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”

Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @cryingpages , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @kenzie203 , @loveless-lie , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @emtrades22 , @wolfgurl2600-blog ,

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: arachnophobes beware, there is a spider in this one (it’s fairly early into the chap tho) (also v tiny boi, not even really described). Summer has arrived! No other notes for this one, lovelies ♥ except some more second-hand embarrassment. A bit more Suguru focused in this one ♥ Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 WC: 14k

“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.

With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.

“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”

“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”

He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”

“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”

The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.

Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.

For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.

He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.

That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.

Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.

He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?

Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.

“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!

Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”

You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.

You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”

You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer. 

Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.

Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?

Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.

A shiver dashed up your spine.

He looked positively feral.

You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal. 

You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–

“Mochi!”

Damnit.

“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”

Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.

“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”

You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.

The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.

How noble of you.

“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.

He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”

He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.

“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall. 

That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–

Legs. 

Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.

With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.

The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out! 

Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.

“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”

He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”

“I am not fine!”

His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.

Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.

This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon. 

Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.

“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”

Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”

Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”

“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.

Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.

“You okay?” He asked.

You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.

You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”

He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”

“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”

Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close. 

You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.

Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

The sun.

The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.

Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.

“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.

You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”

Good save.

Dumbass.

You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.

Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you. 

“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.

Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”

For too many damn reasons.

He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”

“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”

“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.

Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”

His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.

You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.

You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.

Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks. 

“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”

The hell you aren’t.

He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”

All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.

Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”

“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.

“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.

He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.

The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”

Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.

“That was the point.”

You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”

“No promises,” they both responded in unison.

They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.

Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?

Since when were you into psychology?

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”

You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.

“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”

“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.

He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.

“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.

Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”

Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.

You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.

Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.

“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.

So much for high ground.

Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.

Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”

Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”

“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”

“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.

“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.

Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.

Or someone, anyone, else.

“Hello!”

Prayers answered! For once!

Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.

“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”

“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”

“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”

Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter. 

Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”

“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”

He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”

Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.

Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”

“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”

You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”

Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.

“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”

“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”

“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”

Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”

“You already do,” Geto responded.

You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”

He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?” 

“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.

Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.

His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop. 

“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”

“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”

Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request. 

Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.

Sweet, sweet AC.

You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.

The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.

“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.

Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.

“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”

“Granny–”

“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.

“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”

“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.

You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”

She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.

“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”

Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”

She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”

Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”

You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”

This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“Granny–”

“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”

You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–

You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.

“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.

Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.

She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assented.

That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”

There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”

That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.

You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter. 

His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.

You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.

Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.

“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.

You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”

“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”

Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”

The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”

Wha–

Was she trying to set you up with him!?

You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.

Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”

“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”

She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop. 

“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”

“Snegurochka,” you corrected.

“Yeah! Her!”

A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”

Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.

“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.

“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”

“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.

You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”

“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”

“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”

She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”

You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.

“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”

He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”

“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.

“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.

“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”

What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.

“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”

They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.

Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.

You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.

“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”

Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”

“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.

He feigned innocence. “What idea?”

Bastard.

“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.

With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.  

You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.

Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.

Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.

The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.

You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.

Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.

“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”

You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.

Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”

You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.

The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.  

Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.

“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.

Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”

You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”

He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”

Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones. 

“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”

“Ehh?”

“Season.”

“What about it?”

You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.

You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”

“Good choice,” you approved.

Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.

“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.

You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.

A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.

The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy. 

You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.

You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.

Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.

You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?

Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?

…

Home nation.

What was your home nation, again?

All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.

Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything. 

When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves. 

Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.

And then there was you.

You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.

These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.

You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.

You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.

Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range. 

You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.

Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.

There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.

You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.

“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”

“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”

“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”

He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”

You instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.

“No.”

“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”

Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.

Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.

“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”

“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.

“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”

Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”

You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”

Geto hummed in acknowledgement.

An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”

“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”

You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.

A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.

Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”

He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.

You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.

You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.

A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra. 

“Fuck, cold!”

Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.

“Cold!” He echoed you.

You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.

Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes. 

He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.

Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.

He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”

“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”

Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.” 

Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”

“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”

“Doesn’t count.”

“It does count!”

The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.

Perfect.

You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.

Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.

You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.

A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…

“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.

Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.

Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them. 

Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”

“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”

He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”

“Not until you hand me your crown!”

“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”

“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”

You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.

Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king! 

“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”

“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”

Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.

Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.

“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”

“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”

He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”

An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.

This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.

The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.

As long as it lasted, you would savor it.

The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.

“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”

“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”

“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”

A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day. 

“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.

He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.

Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water. 

You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.

Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.

You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.

“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.

His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.

All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.

His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode. 

Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess. 

Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.

“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.

“You can shower first,” he said to you.

You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”

He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”

“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”

Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”

Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.

Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”

“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.

“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”

You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”

He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”

He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.

You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”

He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”

“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”

“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.

You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”

He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”

He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…

You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.

Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.

The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.

It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.

It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.

You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.

Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided. 

You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.

You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs. 

Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.

His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You called out.

The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”

“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?

There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”

“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.

Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.

You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.

You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes. 

You wanted to steal it.

But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.

You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.

The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.

All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you. 

A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”

You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”

His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.

Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.

“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”

Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have. 

Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.

As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.

If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.

If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.

The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness. 

You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz. 

Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye. 

You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow. 

It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.

That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey. 

…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?

The concept gave you chills.

You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.

Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.

You continued your train of thought.

Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.

What did that make you in comparison to them?

Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.

If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle? 

No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.

Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility. 

You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.

Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right? 

If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.

Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?

No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.

Fennec fox? 

You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.

A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.

‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’

Bunny.

Bunny…

A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.

Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.

Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.

You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.

You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.

“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”

“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”

Ohp. 

And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.

“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?” 

Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”

Man.

You were such a bad liar.

He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were. 

Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.

Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.

Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.

You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.

“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.

You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.

Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…

Happy.

You were okay with being happy like this.

You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.

It was okay.

This was okay.

You were okay.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi 👋🏻 are you taking requests for the creators child AU.

Could the child be Alhaitham's or maybe Diluc's.

Thank you

The creator had

Such a smart child

WC: ~900

This feels more like a collection of head cannons but enjoy!

I believe Nahida would be able to dull the hit to the archons enough for them to not have a public outbreak like in other scenarios, so most of the gossip around is from people of sumeru.

“Stop speaking like that of the acting great sage! The matra will get you punished if they hear you talking like that”

“I'm not claiming anything! I'm just saying it's weird how much time he spent around them”

“They were reviewing the structure of the akademiya”

“Sure, and my wife and I were just studying so many years ago”

“Profesor…”

"that is why my daughter was finishing highschool when we both published our thesis. We were 38 but you get the point"

"professor please... Stop..."

It has been a running rumor for a few months, but nobody really believes it, the stone faced great sage and their welcoming grace? No, never, impossible. There are scholars attempting to refute it but their attempts are short-lived as a few months later you settle back in sumeru, and your lazyly hanging robe you wear now is pushed slightly forward around the abdomen, just enough for it to be an untold fact.

“Why am I returning? I guess it just felt right, given everything” slowly after the theory took traction.

On the later months the baby gets calm whenever he is read books, the kicking stopping for as long as anyone recited paragraphs of dense knowledge, it was a common occurrence for you to tag along thesis defenses, something that professors enjoyed the opportunity of chat you up and students suddenly put delays because of sickness on masse.

“I wonder why they are all so nervous to defend their statement! I don't even ask them questions for them to be scared of me!”

“I think regardless of what you did or didn't do any of them would be at ease”

“And I heard they sit through thesis defenses and lectures because the child is calm hearing long speeches”

“I heard that too! I even heard that once they summoned one of the great sages to read a book so they could fall asleep”

“Really! Could it be…” the teen girl looks at her friend mischievously “great sage al haitham?” Making her friend look away feigning not knowing.

°•°

“I'm extremely sorry for calling you so late, Haitham” you lay on your bed, back flush against the wall. The covers on your lap make little to cover the almost watermelon sized bump “I attempted to read to see if he calmed down on his own but when I stop he starts kicking up a storm”

Alhaitham drags your vanity stool to your bedside, a soft creaking sound coming from the friction between the woods. He just hums as he skims the bookshelf “don't fret so much, it's only natural for me to do this” his fingers dance softly caressing the spines of various books ranging from Inazuma novellas to published investigation on bird care “what has been working best? Early language dictionary? Transcripts of old manuscripts?”

“alchemical botany has been doing alright”

“great, it's coming out to be a spantamad or amurta. I'm sure Tighnari and Cyno will be elated with the news” he rolls his eyes and pulls out a leather bound book with vine engraving.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

“I'm just saying that something like ‘development of runic language during the last 300 years’ might be more interesting” you just snicker “weren't you attempting to sleep? Close your eyes”

You side down the pillows with a smile on your lips “fine, if you don't want to read alchemical botany why don't you use the white book?” as he glances over he read the simple title ‘weight distribution in columns depending on materials’ and sighs heavily.

“Spantamad might not be so bad.”

There is a small whisper in the last few months that the child could be meant to be one of the great sages but the matra keeps it down when someone starts with it.

When he is born Alhaitham reads to his son some of the books he kept from his parents.

The one year old is perched on his lap, leaning against one of his arms while they both look at the book, one of them reading attentively the words and explaining some concepts while the other is attempting to fall asleep.

“I doubt he is truly listening to you”

“You would be surprised by how much the biology faculty showed children can learn before school”

“I believe they meant before the 5 years mark, not 6 months”

Maybe even wants you to do something similar, it could be an essay, thesis or even storybook but he would want it to have some banter between you two or little comments like “it's good that you remembered to spell correctly postganglionic fibers, I don't have to correct you anymore”

He uses kaveh as an underpaid nanny just plopping the toddler on his lap and leaving without saying a word. He does stop when his son's drawings start to feature more houses and structures than people.

“Are we sure he is mine?”

“For the sixth time, yes. He is a carbon copy of you”

When your baby grows he is the smartest of his class, reciting everything his father read to him since before his birth, even if he refuses to acknowledge it al haitham is really proud of his son and his little shelf with math Olympics medals or the certificate he got from the first place in a writing competition.

Even then the moment your son turns 18 and has to decide what branch he wants to go into is the hardest week of his life, dreading the possibility of another architect in his life. He is quite happy when he choses spantamad, even if he would have like him to go for haravatat.

[angelicliima]

California Dreamin' [Backseat Bingo, part i]

masterlist

summary In 2077, Cooper Howard's efforts in the Sino-American war and his achievements on stage and screen have made him a household name across the globe. After his divorce, Cooper decides to throw himself back into his work on screen. Abandoning his dreams of becoming a real cowboy, he supposes acting as one will suffice. That's until he meets you, a rising starlet that's been pinned as the next big thing, that just so happens to be playing his love interest in his new movie... and Cooper can't seem to remember his lines anymore.

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!actress!reader

tags au (pre-war era/vault tec doesn't drop any bombs), older man/younger woman, age gap, reader is early to mid 20s, cooper is mid to late 40s, mentions of sa (nothing too graphic), reader has gender envy kinda, cooper is a tiny bit condescending but only if you squint.

a/n it's finally here!!! this is part one, not sure how many parts there will be just yet, but i'm just so excited to get this out here!💕

word count 1967

The persistent heat of Los Angeles had burned a star shaped hole straight into your heart. For years you had longed to go, to be someone. To create your own life, to live your passion. To be someone other then what you were.

Los Angeles had a reputation, the shining stars of Hollywood congregated there, it was where they worked and where they played. It was mysterious and oh, so enticing to a young girl who watched holotapes everyday after school.

You craved the feeling of the warm sun and the blistering heat, the smell of delicious coffee permeating the air and the dull sound of the crashing waves.

To be a star in Hollywood's constellation was anyone's dream. It was a life of luxury and fun, you'd wager most people would give an arm or leg, or both, to become a household name.

Years of longing and praying to God had payed off, you had bitten the bullet and once again, you prayed. Begged, even. You needed this to work. You couldn't face the shame of moving back home as a failed actress.

It worked. The praying to God had worked.

Or maybe you were just really pretty, and had worked your ass off for months. Waitressing, auditioning and waitressing again until finally you had gotten a part.

A part that you knocked out of the park, one that had changed you life.

In a matter of weeks you had went from a waitress in Sammy's Diner, to America's new sweetheart. Your rundown, one bedroom studio apartment that was severely overpriced considering the mold and the peeling wallpaper had morphed into a lavish villa in Bel-Air.

You had went from scowering for open casting calls to having an agent that was finding you parts, most of which were being offered to you.

Life had taken a turn for the better, and it stayed that way for the following two years.

Now, the glamour of Los Angeles was a part of your daily life, you were used to the heat by now, though never tired of feeling the sun on your smooth, pampered skin.

You had grown accustomed to your fans, your wonderful, ever growing crowd of fanatics that helped grow your confidence more than you would like to admit.

Though, you also had your fair share of negativity, so much so, your management had decided to assign you a bodyguard to accompany you during press and parties.

Most criticism drawn towards you was based on your more... provocative roles, although you had joked that your critics are simply jealous of your appeal.

Now, you could afford to be selective with your roles. You could choose how the public viewed you.

Were you gonna be the femme fatale, the dumb blonde or the screwball heroine?

You had decided to mix the three, who wants to be typecast, anyway?

Now, though, you had landed the female lead in a Solomon Barnes flick, 'Under the Covers', starring the Cooper Howard.

Originally, the part was meant for Vera Keyes, however, the studio (and Barnes, but he'd never admit that), had come to the decision that Keyes' acting was flat, and she wasn't sultry enough for the role.

In other words, you were prettier. And, more willing to take off your clothes.

So, here you were, being driven along to Global Pictures Studios on your first day.

It would be an easy enough gig, all you had to do was be a damsel in distress, bat your eyelashes and smile sweetly. Barnes hadn't exactly written your character with layers.

Seemed like a sweet deal to you.

Only problem was, you were nervous. As you always were, even on jobs that required more of you. You were always able to handle it, of course, it was your job and not only that, you were good at your job, obviously.

Stepping out of the car sent for you by Global, you hurriedly made your way to the makeup trailer, which you found with ease, it wasn't your first time on this lot.

Opening the door to the large trailer, you make sure not to turn around when closing the door, your mother had always told you it was rude.

"Look who it is!" a voice squealed.

Your head snaps in the direction and you can't help the cheeky smile that creeps onto you bare face.

It's Madelyn, the makeup girl, well... your makeup girl.

She had been an assistant makeup artist on your first ever movie, and had quickly became one of your closest friends, so you had no choice but to request her presence on every other set since.

"Scale of one to ten, how excited are you-" she began with burgeoning excitement, quickly embracing you before ushering you to the makeup chair.

"To be working with Cooper Howard?" you interrupt, mocking her tone with a giggle. She must've asked you that question at least 50 times in the past week.

Her head jerks towards you, looking at you sideways through the mirror, a poorly concealed laugh escaping her lips.

"Seriously," she says, eyes squinted, tone stern.

"Meh."

You had never seen the appeal. Sure, you admired him because of his talent and ability, but westerns had never been your thing.

"You are unbelievable," Madelyn shakes her head, giggling, "you're seriously trying to tell me you don't care that you're going to be working with him?"

"It's not that I don't care, I just don't understand all the fuss," you sigh, amusement lacing your tone, "he's just like every other leading man I've worked with. Nothin' special."

Madelyn hums at that, turning to face her makeup palette.

You look straight into the mirror, watching her as she does. You entwine your fingers into eachother and rest your elbows on the armrests of the chair.

What made Cooper Howard so special? He was all anybody ever talked about. Makeup artists, producers, directors, fellow actors... why did everyone adore him so much?

Most leading men you've worked with tended to be a bit egotistical on a good day, but never seriously vicious. Some were nicer than others and some were more prone to snaking their hands just an inch too low on your backside than others.

So, what made Cooper Howard any different? You had heard rumours of his recent divorce, how he'd had to split custody of his daughter with his ex-wife. You felt sorry for him, but more worried for yourself, would his recent shortcomings make him harder to work with?

Honestly, you were surprised you had never met him, you travelled in somewhat of the same social circles due to your profession.

It would be a lie if you said you weren't slightly jealous of him. The adoration he received from practically everyone made your skin crawl, you wondered had you been a man would you be loved unconditionally by the public like he was.

A tinge of anxiety bolted through you like a strike of white, hot lightening.

Before you knew it, you were dressed and ready.

These costumes provided to you always made you feel like a little girl playing dress up again.

You strut towards the indoor set, making pleasantries along the way with PA's and other crew members, you felt ready to face your first day. How could you not be?

It wasn't until you finally arrived inside did your slight panic fully subside. A feeling of ease washed over you. No matter where you were filming, you felt at home on sets, always.

Surveying the set, your gaze locked onto Barnes.

He was short, shorter than you anyway and had a glistening, bald head and his browline glasses amways seemed to make him look like some form of a cartoon. He was in the process of chewing out some poor, unfortunate intern.

He had always been nice to you when you'd seen him at social events, but you didn't think he liked you so much as to offer you a lead role in his movie.

Stalking over to him, he jolted when you spoke up behind him.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Mr. Barnes," you smiled sweetly.

Barnes turned to face you, his own sideways smirk plastered on his face. He looked you up and down, his eyes scanning your outfit. The intern took your distraction as a chance to scurry away like a mouse.

"Please, I should be the one thanking you for signing on on such late notice," he breathed, "you saved this movie from being scrapped by the studio."

"Don't be ridiculous," you shyed away, eyes flickering towards the motel room set that was being built up with final touches, "how could I ever say no to being in a Soloman Barnes picture?"

He laughs gleefully at that.

"I'll have you know flattery doesn't work on me, young lady," he sighs deeply, tone dripping with sarcasm, "but seriously, can we talk about this dress? The ladies in the costume department really took care of you."

"They're the best in the business," you state, "you're lucky to have such talented people working for you."

Barnes begins to speak, some sticky remark on the tip of his tongue, amused by your apparent flattery, but is interrupted by another deep voice, coated in a thick southern drawl.

"I would have to agree."

You spin quickly, following the sound.

Cooper Howard stands directly infront of you, his annoyingly handsome face has a toothy grin spread across it, it looks almost earnest. Maybe it's the lighting. And, of course, a cigarette in hand.

Definitely playing the part of leading man, and the camera isn't even rolling.

He's in costume too, though you notice his isn't nearly as constrictive.

Asshole.

He extends his free hand towards you, which you take. His hands are large and calloused and you almost jump when he clasps his other over yours.

"Mr. Howard-" you start, your voice is a pitch higher than it was a moment ago.

"It’s Cooper, dolly. No need for niceties 'round me," he offers.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, before you nod dumbly.

Jesus Christ, girl, wake up.

You repeat his name sheepishly, almost shyly. Almost.

“There we go,” Cooper tilts hid head slightly, cigarette hanging limply from his lips.

You huff, you feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by a teacher at the top of the class.

"Well, I am honoured," he begins, "I have to admit I am a huge fan of yours."

"Oh, well thank you," you breathe, smoothing you dress out with you jewellery laced hands, head tilted high, chin up.

Barnes chuckles, his head bent sideways, his blue grey eyes meeting your own.

"Not a fan of Mr. Howard?" he teases, very obviously trying to contain his amusement.

You roll your eyes between the pair of men. Seriously?

Cooper raises an expectant eyebrow.

"Not exactly a fan of shitty westerns," you state simply.

Cooper chokes, suddenly finds the vinyl floor very interesting, a pink hue cast over his cheeks.

Barnes gapes at that, not expecting such brassy tones from his young leading lady. And he certainly wasn't expecting her to call his some of his previous work 'shitty'.

"Now, gentlemen, if you could excuse me, I need to acquaint myself with the crew," you proclaim, sauntering away towards the sound technicians.

"She's quite something, isn't she?" Barnes chuckles widly.

Cooper turns to him quickly and nods hesitantly, clicking his tongue.

"Sure is."

He follows Barnes' gaze and watches intently, his lips pulled into a tight line as you smile with glossed lips at the sound guys, all of whom are watching you speak adoringly, bashful smiles and scrunched noses as they bathe in sunshine of your presence, a harsh contrast to what Cooper had just received.

Cooper sighs.

He's fucked.

~

tagged people @whatiswrongwithpeople @sarasxe @htchnr @lilivanilli @eykismyfav @spookyspecterino @sillysimping @anonymous-creep @chainsawangel @harveysgirl101 @lovziy @b00tycheeks @ss108 @babyinatrench-coat1 @auroranodyssey @ghcstvibess @looneylooomis @valhallavalkyrie9 @ineffablebean @gobsalad @ddarling-ddearest-ddead @sitkafay

[pumpkinbxtch]

Helloo I was wondering if I could make a request

Since it's prom season here where I'm at I was wondering if you could do a highschool au prom with Jason Grace (or any other of the PJO boys) where reader(male or gn) Is waiting for someone to ask them out because they don't think anyone will accept their invitation to prom if they ask so they wait patiently for someone to ask them to prom. Days go by still no one has asked the reader out to prom and reader is like sulking in their home sad cause no one asked them out until reader heard a noise coming from outside they check it out and they see Jason outside waiting to ask reader out

Angst to fluff type stuff It would be so nice if you were to fill this request but it's you're choice if you do tyy

wait forever —⁠☆

| highschool au | — jason grace x gn!reader

warnings; language, a bit of angst but turns into fluff. tags; the reader has a crush on jason, jason being oblivious about the reader feelings. a/n; hello! I hope you are very well. This is the first Jason fic omg . I will do it in gn because I usually use the feminine or neutral, I hope you enjoy it and I send you a big greeting from mhmm mars!

Jason was the king of the class. Everyone wanted to talk to him, ask him out, kiss him, or even kill him though those were the jealous few.

Guys like him got tons of invitations to be prom dates, just for the chance to be by his side for one night. But every time, he politely declined – which somehow made it even more painful– I mean, he was handsome, kind, and smart. Whoever ended up with him would be lucky.

And there you were, leaning on your elbows, watching as he gently turned down another girl. This was becoming routine since the prom date had been announced and plastered all over the school. You noticed the girl apologized, and he tried to avoid a hostile rejection. You could almost read his lips saying, “On the contrary, it’s an honor, I’m sorry, blah, blah, blah.” Same words, just another person hearing them from Jason. You laughed to yourself, unsure if it was in humor or despair.

Then you cleared your throat as you saw Jason return to his seat, conveniently in front of you. You guessed that you and Jason weren’t that close because talking excessively during school but rarely outside of it didn’t make you friends.

— If you keep this up, you'll never get a date, Jason — yelled his dark-haired friend, tossing a paper ball at him. Jason examined it with a raised eyebrow.

— Shut up, will you? And really, Leo? Heather B.?— His friend grinned and raised his hands. If you remembered correctly, Heather often teased Leo, and they apparently couldn’t stand each other. But it seemed that was just her way of getting his attention, and it worked. Great, Leo Valdez had a date, and you didn’t.

When Jason finally sat down, he turned to you with a smile that gave you butterflies.

— Do you have a date?

Oh god.

— No — you said, whining with pleading eyes. It would’ve been just as obvious if you got on your knees and started praying out loud that you were the one he wanted to go with. Instead, your classmate pressed his lips together and rested his head on his crossed arms.

— You’ll find someone.

Uh, that was the problem. You looked around, and no one seemed particularly interested in asking you. Your friends had found their dates before you could even suggest going as a group. But honestly, even if that had happened, it wouldn’t have been what you wanted. You wanted to go with someone special, but you were too shy to ask anyone, so you just waited.

—I suppose,— you responded, trying not to sound disappointed, though you knew you couldn’t expect anything from him because he probably had much better and more attractive options than you… oh. Despite your mind’s attempts to calm you down, you found yourself wondering… What if you asked Jason? Would he say no? Of all the people, you’d be the first somewhat close person to ask him.

— Jason — you called out suddenly, a burst of courage surprising you. His bright blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, leaving you speechless. How many had the privilege of his attention? You didn’t know, but you wanted to be the only one. You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing, but he turned slightly, attentive, until the words left your mouth. Not a hint of mockery on his face. — Never mind.

You mentally slapped yourself, and Jason smiled kindly.

— If you remember what you wanted to say, tell me.

Yeah, asking wasn’t your thing. It was better to wait for someone to ask you. Maybe that Nakamura guy from the other class with whom you had a great conversation about the weather would come to mind. You thought, with a bit of luck, he wouldn’t have a date, and he’d think of you.

So, that’s what you did. But the torment was watching others ask each other in creative ways, flirting to see if there was mutual interest. You witnessed the air fill with the joy and misery of securing a date. Obviously, the proposals for Jason didn’t stop; they increased, making it more painful because he was the guy you wanted to hold your hand at the stupid dance.

As the days passed, your mood worsened, and that Wednesday, you opened your locker with hope and found absolutely nothing. Frustrated, you stuffed your books inside and slammed the door shut with a curse. You might have looked intimidating if Jason hadn’t appeared behind it, making you scream and him laugh. You didn’t understand how some people thought he was stuck-up and serious when the guy was the complete package (you cried internally again).

— What are you doing later? — he asked, twirling the rose in his hand with a raised eyebrow.

— Why? Are you going to tell me all the ways people have asked you to the dance, starting with that rose that some girl must have given you — Jason laughed again and pointed the rose at you so close you could smell its sweet fragrance.

— Boy — he corrected, and you rolled your eyes, but curiosity and anxiety overwhelmed you.

— And you said…?

— No.

You nodded and headed to the cafeteria with him following behind, which you found odd since he was about two heads taller than you.

— Don’t get me wrong. It’s for the same reason I turned down everyone else.

You smiled to show you were listening and stopped abruptly when the dance committee blocked the way with their huge decorations. Totally distracted, Jason bumped into you. If it had been the other way around, it wouldn’t have happened, but he was much heavier, so you ended up wobbling, at risk of falling flat on your face if his large hands hadn’t caught you at the exact moment.

— Sorry, I didn’t see — he swore, holding you tightly by the waist with his chin brushing your ear. His breath against your skin gave you a shiver; you had never been so close to him.

You slowly turned your body while still on tiptoes, and to your surprise, he never let go. Probably, your eyes had stars, and you wore the stupidest smile ever, but Jason didn’t notice because he was focused on not letting you fall on the freshly waxed floor in front of everyone. Because contrary to what you thought, to Jason, you were a dear friend. Now that his eyes met yours, the frustration of not knowing why he felt so different with you compared to his friendships with Leo, Piper, or Annabeth became even more apparent. He could never achieve the same level of closeness with them that he had with you.

— Th-thanks — Nervously, you began to remove his hands from your body, and Jason let go with an apology, noting that maybe you didn’t like physical contact too much while ignoring the fact that some people were watching and whispering, and you were almost melting in his arms.

You gave him an embarrassed smile and watched as the last decorations paraded down the hall. Only two days left, and you still didn’t have a date. Apparently, Jason didn’t see your frown or the pout starting to form on your lips because he carelessly began to pat you on the shoulder with a friendly laugh. But that wasn’t as bad as what he said next.

— Well, if I pushed you against the balloons and streamers again, at least you’d be part of the decorations and prettier than being a wallflower.

And honestly, what the fuck?

You didn’t know if it was the stress of not having a date, the desperation for Jason to notice you, or everything combined with the bad weather outside, but you didn’t have the guts to handle the joke. Because yeah, that’s what it was, and there was no malice in his tone. But you couldn’t do anything more than hum while grimacing. The hallway seemed to transform into the coldest place in the universe and Jason looked at you with slightly wider eyes than usual, noticing your mood change immediately.

— Sorry–

— It’s fine, Jason. I wish I were you to get thousands of proposals. See you later. — You rushed ahead, leaving Jason with his mouth open and a guilty feeling in his chest. He had never seen that side of you.

—Come on, dude! — Leo yelled, slapping the blonde’s back, who was miserably hugging his left sneaker while sitting on the locker room bench. He had worn that long face and slumped shoulders for the next hour. How could he have dared to make you angry before building a better friendship with you?

— I swear, Leo. Their eyes were full of…

— Not that, Jason — interrupted the dark-haired boy with a grimace. Jason raised an eyebrow, expecting something better than a nonsensical scolding, or so he thought. — Seriously, you haven’t realized they’re in love with you?

Jason nearly fell off the bench and bit his tongue. Leo rolled his eyes, exasperated by his friend’s dramatics. If being blind was a definition, Jason embodied it in many ways. Leo took off his glasses.

— Hey!

He cleaned them with the edge of his sports shirt and put them back on Jason.

— Can you see now? Or do I have to tell you that you’re terribly attracted to them, which is why you keep rejecting everyone?

Jason opened his mouth, his cheeks starting to burn, his stomach twisting, and his heart feeling close to a panic attack. Leo nodded wisely.

— My friend, you have the emotional maturity of a toddler.

Jason felt like a creep lurking around your house from the bushes after not seeing you anywhere for the rest of the day. Your sudden announcement of being sick didn’t sit well with him, so he ended up finding out where you lived.

In reality, you were grumbling and pacing around your living room while watching another episode of your favorite show. You reached the part where the main couple finally realized they were in love, and the episodes were filled with romance, so In bad humor, you threw a chip at the TV. The protagonist reminded you of Jason… Jason. UGH.

You smashed a pillow against your face and groaned in embarrassment. You had acted so weird with him that you thought you’d never be able to face him again, and that moment came too soon when his face appeared squished against your living room window, accompanied by a familiar metallic clang. Jason had tripped over the trash, leaving his face imprint on your window.

You wished you could’ve said something better than:

“AHH!”

And Jason wished he could’ve responded with something better than:

“AAAHHH!”

But honestly, neither of you was good at expressing your feelings in front of each other.

You quickly got up to open the door and found the blonde with his hands in his jacket, his breath visible in the cold. It took you several seconds to formulate the first of many questions racing through your mind.

— What are you doing here? — was the first of them, but you hadn’t expected the tone to be so guarded. You still seemed to hold a grudge from the morning, but in reality, you felt worse with yourself.

— I came… I…. — Jason took a breath and walked towards you, illuminated by the porch light with each step until his hair looked like golden thread. — Sorry for what I said. It was really stupid.

— It’s okay, Jason. I wasn’t in a good mood…

— No, please. I should’ve been more considerate…— You frowned, and he took another step, pulling his hands out of his jacket to try and reach yours. The gesture seemed unexpected, but you didn’t do anything to avoid physical contact because, honestly, you’d never do anything to avoid being close to him.

— Jason…

— Please, let me speak. — He held your hands, and for the first time, he was aware of how it felt physically to be with you. He almost felt his body vibrate, his heart leap with excitement, but he still had the hardest part to say. — I don’t have many explanations right now, but I’d like to be your prom date.

The words didn’t have the expected effect because you stepped back.

— If this is just out of pity…

Jason shook his head and reached for you again, this time hugging you. Maybe if he didn’t look directly at you, it would be easier. He hadn’t realized you could make him so nervous.

— Never. You’re the one I’ve been hoping to go with… just forgive me, I have the emotional maturity of a five-year-old, and... I thought you hated me.

You smiled, and Jason took that as a good sign. He pulled back a bit to look at you face-to-face and, with a nervous smile, whispered, “Please.” You had Jason Grace begging you to be his prom date.

— I don’t hate you — you whispered and blushed. — I, uh, like you.

— Thank all the gods that exist! Because I hope you forgive me for what I’m about to say…

Jason smiled widely, cheeks pink, nervously pinching the fabric of your clothes. You raised an eyebrow. Did that mean he liked you too?

— Actually, I kinda forgot to give you a message from one person and maybe it was to ask you out...

You opened your mouth in disbelief.

— Nakamura — you guessed, and Jason nodded, embarrassed, but then he started waving his hands and stuttering.

— But, Please, be my date. I like you too, okay? Who’s Nakamura, anyways? — He almost said it so fast it made you dizzy, but you laughed, the sweetest sound he could’ve heard.

— I thought it would take forever.

[syn4k]

hello!!! as you are the resident miante person in mcyt (there might be another one but in my opinion it's you) I have a question: if I wanted to watch mianite how would I go about that/where do I find it? I know it's a youtube thing but I don't know which channel it's actually on and I am. Extremely Curious about it & want to watch it but I have no idea where to do that /genuine question

(also, I know it's got multiple POVs, is there anyone you'd recommend I start with?)

hello! thanks for the ask!

mianite has four main POVs that remain in VOD and episode form on the creators' channels, they all have a playlist for it and you can find them pretty easily by looking up "[creator name] mianite s1" on youtube.

i recommend starting off with jordan captainsparklez' POV like we did, as he is involved in mostly everything in both s1 and s2 and his episodes are edited down to only really have the important bits. if you decide to watch back through the series later from another perspective, tom syndicate's POV is another good one to watch as he's kind of on the opposite side of everything happening in s1 and it puts a lot of his actions in context that jordan left out of his episodes.

if you don't want to watch through the series in its entirety (which is completely understandable), fern @voidandradiance has made a playlist of the important lore moments in both mianite s1 and s2 that she'd be happy to share :]

also it's really funny to me that we are the resident Mianite Guy to you when we've only been here for like, six months. this series turns ten years old today and there are people in this fandom who have been here since the beginning of it or at least who have been here for way, way longer than we have.

if you do end up sticking around here, i cannot recommend these people enough:

@kiwibirdlafayette - AMAZING artist who has been here in the trenches here since 2014. syndisparklez enthusiast. his art-only blog is @grailknightmonty and he also posts Hermitcraft stuff occasionally :3

@transandor chase my good friend chase!! resident Jordan Captainsparklez Guy. brilliant writer, also happens to be fistfighting The Horrors, you know how it his

@voidandradiance i already tagged him before and i'll fuckin do it again because this bitch's writing is stunning beyond words and xyr brain is HUGE. if you like the style of the stuff we write, you'll LOVE fern's work. its so beautiful that i physically cannot overhype it. its so good, y'all. its so fucking good.

@syndianites is, as far as we're concerned, the mouth of god himself when it comes to Tom Syndicate SynHD. there is nobody on this site who understands this character better than she does. they consistently leave the most galaxy brain objectively correct tags about him on our posts and she never fucking misses. this bitch Gets It and i am very lucky to be her friend

@coolcattime's blog is more of a general purpose one, like ours is, but she carries the f/f ships in the Mianite fandom and is also a great writer! she's written a lot of neat AU ideas and although we haven't talked with her much she definitely lives up to her url- she's one cool cat :]

@cactusprisms is also someone that we see around a lot in the notes of our mianite posts, although we unfortunately havent talked much. also more of a general purpose blog but worth following anyways. shes vibing.

hope this helps! <3

[chaosheadspace]

Dreamling fic Masterpost

So in Honor of Dreamling week I've decided (like many others), to make a masterpost of my Dreamling fanfics. I'll put the one's exclusive to tumblr first, and then the ones on AO3 after that.

On Tumblr:

Honk snoo Hob

Dream ditched at the altar (human AU)

Dream eats in hob's dreams after his imprisonment

Dream getting snacks for Hob from dreams

Castle in the sand epilogue

Food truck Hob I (human AU, Food critic Dream)

Food truck Hob II

Dream teasing Hob by eating his ice lolly

Orc!Hob smutlet (explicit)

On AO3:

Series:

The library idiots

Inappropriate Uses of the Dewey Decimal System and Coworkers by Hob Gadling, no PhD (93K, E) - Library AU

Coffee (395.53 - Public behavior) (500, G)

Manners (641.815 - Bread and bread-like foods) (400, G)

Late nights (641.864 - Pudding) (400, G)

Up (641.822 - Pasta) (1.3K, G)

High-strung (646.42 Underwear) (3.2K, E)

Chaosheadspace's Pleasantly Unsettling Things (mind the tags)

Feel my body, crack my bones (3K, E)

Waves (2K, E)

The softness of light (1K, M)

The truth and the sublime (2K, E)

Safe and Sound (1.6K, E)

There isn’t much I haven’t shared (with you along the road) (1.6k, G)

Single works:

I'll go to sleep and dream again (37K, E)

Policy of truth (8K, E) - Smut march ficlets

Take both my hands (8K, E) - Omegaverse, Human AU

Silent Melody (600, E)

Sapphires (3K, E) - Human AU, Bank heist)

Advantages of four-poster beds (2K, E) - assorted smut fills

Foam and Whispers (10K, E) - Little mermaid AU

Rainbow Snails and Plastic Cups (1.5K, T) - Human AU, Ikea meet-cute

Ill-advised things (19K, E) - HUman AU, arranged marriage (ish)

Home should be where the heart is (15K, M, unfinished) - Beauty and the Beast AU

Castle in the sand (8K, E) - Human AU, single Dads

Someone opens a window, Music spills onto the dirt (2K, E) - Human AU, age difference

[toji-girl]

Levi - 7

(Idk if i did this correctly 😅)

18+ content only - mdni

you did do it correctly yes 😌

tags: fem reader + modern au + explicit smut + age gap

Levi couldn't ignore the pang in his chest when the sweet scent of your perfume wafted around him when you sat so close to him. You were his assistant and younger, not by much but albeit.

Your skin glowed in the golden sunlight that streamed from the open windows, highlighting your features and the modern classroom.

"I can feel you staring, Mr. Ackerman, do I have something on face?" You hummed never breaking your concentration from grading.

Silver eyes narrowed, then shifted down to his own papers on the desk. "I was checking your work." He replied smoothly that if you were anyone else, you wouldn't have picked up on his tone.

You hummed again, making his blood sizzle as the two of you finished until the stack of papers resembled a paper mountain, and your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. "Call it a evening?"

Levi didn't want to, but sleep always eluded him anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning." He husked with a nod, watching as you stood up, gathering your things, working up the courage to ask you to stay.

It's been two years since you've been working under him, and he likes the flow between you and him, how you're able to shoot back so quickly with ease and a grin.

"I have a date, so I can't be late or I won't get another mate." Your rhyming usually made him chuckle or roll his eyes, but the mere mention of a date made his skin tighten with jealously.

The next evening, Levi could tell you were withdrawn. Your little comebacks didn't shine through his sass and it was clear you're upset.

"Bad date?" He questioned when he settled next to you. Your eyes never shifted from the paper as you shrugged, unsure what to tell him.

Levi is your boss, not some twenty-five year old co-worker you can gossip with about getting dicked down only to end up disappointed.

Your face flushed with warmth as you remembered how you moaned Levi's name and not your dates when he went down on you. It wasn't until then when you finally came and he left.

"Have a one night stand go bad?" You asked, letting the question settle between the lines of silence that was filled with static.

Levi shifted in his seat briefly, remembering a date he had a while ago with the same woman he's been going out with for the last several months and how he dreamt of your mouth instead of hers pleasuring him.

She knew exactly what to do to get a man to cum in less than a minute but Levi's guilt refused to let him experience the bliss and his orgasm was dry, painful leaving him irritated.

You were all he could think about. "No, sex should be with someone you have a connection with, so I don't do that." He simply replied.

Levi was always honest.

Sometimes, too honest, but you appreciated that about him.

"Well, when you want to get off...anyway it was awful, ever call someone's name out?"

Your question made his dick twitch with his fantasies of him kissing your pussy then riding him in his chair with your tits in his face.

He wanted to let his hands be greedy and feel you up. "No, I've never done that either."

"You are old." You teased rolling your eyes now feeling a bit perkier.

Levi took notice and handed you a stack of paper. "I'm a decade older, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to please a woman."

Courage or pure stupidity got a hold of your mouth and pried it open. "Prove it."

His eyes narrowed in challenge as you both engaged in a stare off until you leaned in closing the distance to kiss him fully on his mouth.

Levi's lips were soft and tasted like tea, his tongue parted your lips to sweep in your mouth as you scrambled from your chair to straddle him.

His bulge pressed against your aching pussy as you ground down on him as your fingers flew down his shirt to unbutton it and reveal his body to your touch that seared his flesh.

He hissed when you dipped down lower to unbuckle his belt. "Mr. Ackerman--" Your breath mingled with his as your nose bumped his.

Your gaze met in a heated exchange as his hands slid into your pants and panties to grope and squeeze while the both of you undressed each other with wet kisses that followed after.

At any time, anyone could walk in and see you two dry humping until you were naked in his lap, and he was half naked thrusting wildly up.

His cock slid between your slick pussylips separating them catching his tip on the soft opening of your cunt. He held you close to him and helped you sink down slowly.

The both of you let out soft, drawn-out moans as you rode him slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongues tangled.

[suseagull04]

Thanks @onthewaytosomewhere @xthelastknownsurvivorx and @tailsbeth-writes the tags!

Lots of RBB/Divergent AU (well, more than I initially planned to share, anyway) to celebrate the fact that I hit 20k this morning! A bit of a content warning for mentions of a minor injury comes with it

The room was silent, so much so that Alex would've been able to hear a pin drop. The thought made him grin. His abuela had been great at sewing, able to fix any snag he found in his clothing. It was nothing short of comical to picture someone like Henry or Shaan in her stead, sitting in a rocking chair working on their latest project.

Then he sneezed, and he guessed he must have done it at the exact moment Henry let the knife fly, because the knife knicked his ear, making him hiss.

“I did warn you to stay still,” Henry reminded him unnecessarily.

“I sneezed!” Alex protested. Was this faction ever reasonable? “Name one person you know who can successfully keep their eyes open while they sneeze. Last time I checked, it was physically impossible.”

“I suppose you shouldn't sneeze again, then.”

Alex wanted to bite back that it wasn't something he could control, but he knew that argument would go absolutely nowhere with Henry. The man was never reasonable, after all.

Then everyone was silent, and Alex tried to relax. However, Henry seemed to be aiming low for some reason that Alex couldn't understand. He would have thought that Henry would've wanted to threaten Alex's (admittedly too mouthy sometimes for his own good) lips more than anything else.

Then the knife hit right between his legs, just below Alex's crotch, and Alex gulped. If that had landed even a little bit higher up…

I'm early, so lots of no pressure tags for @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cha-melodius @duchessdepolignaca03 @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @emmalostinwonderland @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @theprinceandagcd @pridepages @priincebutt @raysletters @read-and-write- @smc-27 @sherryvalli @thesleepyskipper @sprigsofviolets @sparklepocalypse @tintagel-or-cockleshells @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @welcometololaland @zwiazdziarka @14carrotghoul

[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you to @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @heartstringsduet @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @strandnreyes @birdclowns

@whatsintheboxmh @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe for the tags <3

back to the olympics au as that 4x18 coda wraps up

The flight to Vegas is only three hours. Carlos is grateful all over again that his parents push for first class tickets when they fly commercial, no matter how small the meet or short the flight. He’s never been the biggest fan of flying as-is. They land at Harry Reid the day before podium training, disembarking the plane with enough time to check into their hotel and grab dinner as a group. TK falls into step beside him as they enter the jet bridge, saying something about an Italian restaurant he was eyeing that’s apparently a five-minute walk from their hotel. Carlos turns to respond to him and finds TK gone from his side. He tilts his head, confused, until he hears TK’s voice a few feet behind. “Thank you so much.” He’s standing next to a young woman, Sharpie in hand as he signs the sleeve of her t-shirt. “It’s so cool that you decided to fly out for this.” “You were amazing in London,” she gushes, looking at him with a wide, awed smile. “I didn’t know men’s gymnastics could be so exciting.” TK bursts out laughing, and Carlos turns away, as he starts to go on about how many times he’s heard that and she interrupts to compliment his floor routine. He catches the end of someone else coming up to TK before he’s out of earshot, another fan. He takes a breath and makes himself keep walking, speeding up his pace through the tunnel until he reaches the gate they’ve arrived at. His mom is further up ahead, talking to one of the assistant coaches while typing something out on her phone. TK was amazing in London. That girl was right. Something about it twists uncomfortably in his stomach, and Carlos hates himself for that.

open tag!

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

OC Action Tag

tagged by: @raresvtm @cloudofbutterflies92 @rhettsabbott @harmonyowl @voidika

@inafieldofdaisies and @thesingularityseries (thank you all so much <3)

Killed Someone Under Orders |Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defence | Spared Someone's Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It I Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome (in certain AUs) | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid| Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High (Bliss) | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks| Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar| Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury (as far as she's concerned, yes) | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush| Laughed Themself To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotised | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor's Guilt| Been Tied/Chained Up| Given Someone A Massage| Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone's Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone's Trust | Broken Someone's Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing| Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name| Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured/Tortured Others| Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis| Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language| Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/ Uncle

Killed Someone Under Orders |Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defence | Spared Someone's Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It I Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome| Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid| Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped| Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High| Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks| Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar| Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush| Laughed Themself To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotised | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor's Guilt| Been Tied/Chained Up| Given Someone A Massage| Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone's Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone's Trust | Broken Someone's Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing| Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name| Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured/Tortured Others| Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis| Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language| Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/ Uncle

tagging (no pressure of course):

@kyberinfinitygems @scentedcandleibex @roofgeese @imogenkol @strangefable

@direwombat @ladyoriza @clicheantagonist @purplehairsecretlair @simplegenius042

@finding-comfort-in-rain @tommyarashikage @cassietrn @josephseedismyfather @florbelles

@carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @confidentandgood @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed

@thedeadthree @theelderhazelnut @unholymilf @shellibisshe @afarcry5fromstraight

@transcaster @aceghosts @jackiesarch @dickytwister

[maxbegone]

happy wednesday! thank you @rmd-writes for tagging me! trying to flex my creative muscle again, and am slowly easing back into it. here's another snippet from the prince of the underworld/god of death/hades au

“Are you leaving again soon?” He asks in a way so as not to disrupt the quiet. Alex doesn’t answer, instead rolling his lips between his teeth and continuing to draw gentle patterns on Henry’s shoulder. “I know not to as if you are, I already know that answer. Just…when?” “Soon,” Alex replies softly because, truly, that's all he can give him. “But how soon?” “I don’t know, Hen…” “Well, are you just going to go once I return to my post?” He asks, sitting up a little. He takes a hold of Alex’s free hand. “Because if that’s the case, then I will stay in this bed with you for as long as I’m able.” That jabs him somewhere deep. He breathes around it and shakes his head. “Henry, you can’t just say something like that.” “Why not?” “Because you are quite literally the only thing in the universe that could ever make me change my mind.” Henry’s eyes might brighten, but his tone does not. “And here you are saying things like that,” he mocks. “What’s the addendum?” Alex sighs. “You know how I feel about this place. It’s never felt right, and yet now…” “You’ve found someone.” Henry shifts, dropping Alex’s hand. “Right. My mistake then, thinking this was worth convincing you to stay.” “Wait, Henry.” He’s sitting up and grabbing Henry’s wrist without a second thought. While Alex knows in his heart of hearts that he should keep everything he’s learned recently a secret so as to protect [Redacted], he also knows that Henry would never tell a soul. Telling Nora that he’d just go blabbing if he did was merely Alex being pissy. Because Alex trusts him inherently, and just as much as he trusts Nora. And even after centuries of their relationship being so estranged, it’s something Alex still believes wholeheartedly. So, in reality, Alex doesn’t have to think too hard about his decision. Deep down, he’s wanted to from the start. He gives Henry’s wrist a squeeze, watches as his brow furrows while he searches Alex’s face for anything that might give it all away. Now or never. Henry deserves to know.

tagging @indestructibleheart @orchidscript @iboatedhere @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes

[larabar]

some adau things ^^ he cheers barry on through the dreamgear

[lovesickeros]

☆ thrice the bell tolls

{☆} characters neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, villain au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings minor angst {☆} word count 0.9k

"Get in the water."

There is no trepidation in the voice of the Sovereign as he speaks, only pure contempt that bleeds into the very air until it chills their lungs – there will be no penance here. No redemption. He stands before them with apathetic indifference, and with his hands he shall draw judgement upon sinners without a shred of mercy, so heavy his gaze they cannot move. This land shall become the grave of gods – no, not gods, Archons. Transcendent..and fallible.

Horribly, humanly fallible.

What a cruel thing to be – neither god nor mortal, in the end. Their Authority a stolen, coveted thing, so easily taken in a blaze of fury that singes them to the bone, in winds so harsh it tears the breath from their lungs from the sheer pressure, in the way their hairs stand on end as if lightning shall smite them for their arrogance. Judgement has come for them, in the end, and no plea nor bargain can save them from it's justice – they shall be judged and they shall be sentenced.

"..I was willing to put aside your past transgressions – forgive your thievery of the Authority that is not your own – to see Their vision of harmony come to reality." He speaks with nothing but clarity and calmness that unsettles – as gentle as the serene pond illuminated by gentle sunlight, ducks drifting across its pristine surface and creating faint, brief ripples. Calm as the tide as it recedes from the shoreline. His eyes speak of the tempest – the raging winds and the harsh waves that will crash and break and ravage. There is a fury so turbulent it makes the wind go still, the earth erode and the water recede. "You do not deserve repentance when Their body bears the marks of your transgressions," There will be no mercy. They try to plead, to beg and bargain but they cannot speak – their cries go unheard just as Theirs were ignored. A horrifying irony.

"Self proclaimed Acolytes, all, yet you bathe in Their most divine blood and call yourselves Saints," He breathes in, taps his cane against the hardened earth, and holds his head high as he meets their eyes unflinching. Mercy, they think, for we are innocent – we did not know. "Sinners, to the very last. You tear at the flesh of the most Divine like wild dogs to sate your own hunger, for you know nothing else."

His voice is the toll – it echoes like the ringing of a bell, calling them to the water like a siren. It beckons, it demands, and it will not wait. The water recedes and he stands like a beacon among the shores – a bastion of light where it has been snuffed out.

His eyes witness their sins – heavy a burden he bears as he witnesses that which they must atone for. The cruel hand of an Archon as it spills the Divine blood of the very earth beneath their feet. He sees Their agony, feels it to the last. Every bolt of wind, every jagged rock, every bolt of lightning. Every single one he feels until he weeps – for Them, he weeps.

His left hand renders judgement – guilty. Their transgressions are grave, and no redemption can be found for such horrors they have inflicted upon the mortal vessel of the Divine. They have felt their sorrow, have felt Their pain, and he has found them guilty.

And with his right hand..he enacts justice.

"Let your sins be your anchor – let your sins weigh heavy upon your shoulders so that you may feel a brief flicker of the agony you have inflicted upon Them," He lifts his cane with a solemn resolve, tears staining the scales upon his cheeks. "I shall weep for you, too, for no other shall do so in my stead. Return, wretched beasts, to the earth and let it nourish Them where you did not."

And at his call, the waves devour.

Entire cities, entire nations – those who bear the sin shall drown in it's wake, dragged to the lowest depths where even the sun cannot breach. It takes and takes, claws and tears and rips at the bodies of the damned – it devours the world, impartial and unrelenting in it's judgement.

And Neuvillette alone weeps.

◇

"Neuvillette? Are you..crying?" Their voices makes him startle back to awareness, the briefest flicker of shame welling up in the empty space of his chest as he wipes away the tears that roll down his cheeks like drops of rain.

"It..appears so. Forgive me, most Divine, it seems I had a brief lapse in focus." He clears his throat, straightens his back, tries to ignore the pit in his stomach as he watches Their lips pull into a smile all too happy. He..he should be happy too, shouldn't he? He should. If They are happy, so should he be. His lips curl into a smile that doesn't feel like it fits on his face, but he delights in the way They smile wider when he does.

They approve, and that's all that matters, isn't it?

"It won't happen again, I assure you."

Their approval is all that matters.

So why does his chest ache so badly? He did as They commanded, he removed the stain upon Teyvat and ensured Their safety.

So why does he feel such sorrow?

The thought gnaws at him like the tides erode at stone, yet he cannot bear to burden his Creator with such..nonsense.

He will bear this weight alone until the day the waves come to claim him, too.

"Shall we visit the gardens today, Divine One?"