#the teardrop on Yai's nose...

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Let's enjoy the time we have left together.

For @troubled-mind 🥰

[arainesque]

am i insane or did u make the colour of ur blog like a Teeny bit darker. it looks cute but Something is different... anyway. im back in ur inbox to scream about ur fics Yay. ok lets GO

Matty was awoken by the sound of George’s panting breaths, heavy puffs of air across the skin of his bare chest, where George’s head was resting. His cheek laying heavy against Matty’s sternum, close to his heart in a form of symbolism he’d dissect later. A symbolism he’d attempt to put into an incoherent string of words that no one but George could make sense of. He always did.

first paragraph and it just shot me dead and kicked me in the face. OH MY GOD. "A symbolism he’d attempt to put into an incoherent string of words that no one but George could make sense of." NOBODY TALK TO ME this is GORGEOUS. "heavy puffs of air" also scratches an itch in my brain like just the words and the sounds of them is So Good

George just squirmed in his arms, seemingly still fast asleep and in clear distress. Trying to press himself closer to Matty than what was humanly possible. It was sweltering beneath the covers, George was like a furnace. He traced his fingers down the smooth slope of George’s nose, sweeping under his eyes where the skin was wet from fresh, salty tears.

i just turned into a teardrop. pls. hes having a nightmare everybody be nice to him:((( and this part "He traced his fingers down the smooth slope of George’s nose, sweeping under his eyes where the skin was wet from fresh, salty tears." THAT IS ??!?! AMAZING ?!?! i love the word sweeping so already 10/10 but aaaaaaaaaaaahh. smooth slope of his nose!!!!!! !!! u just . u use words so nicely

Maybe that’s the curse of finding your mate too early in life. He’d always felt George on a level that he couldn’t put into words. Where his head would hurt and he’d feel agitated when George went into heat and they couldn’t be together. Would be smashing up his room and make his mum upset and deep down he’d always known why, but when you’re young it’s hard to put into words. Difficult to rationalise your emotions and sit with them, rather than taking it out on the people (and objects) around you.

DONT SPEAK TO ME NOBODY TALK TO ME 9H MY SIJSHDJW i cant even. explain. im. ondnsjsjshnqn. hes agitated when george isnt with him during his heat OK SO BASICALLY THEIR SOULS ARE CONNECTED AND IM GOING TO DIE dont speak to me. i will explode. no pls like !!!!!!!!!!!! i just cant

Instead it had been meeting a boy that hadn’t necessarily been shy , but he had been quiet. It was intrigue about his mannerisms and the way he’d twirl his hair around his finger. It was George’s scraped knees after falling off his bike and Matty cleaning his wounds. Kissing his skin after applying the pokemon themed plasters over the scrapes on his knees. It was George sleeping next to him in bed. Matty eventually having the courage to cradle George close to his chest.

no because the Quiet But Not Shy thing STUCK w me. like. every day since u posted this chapter ive thought about that line and Omg omg omg it is so !!!!!! like ?!??! omg just like i GET it. one sentence and u described him Perfectly omg omg i cannot deal. pokemon plasters:'))))) kissing his skin before:')))))) courage to cradle him close :'))))))) i need to be taken out back and shot over this

Predestined and divine and easy.

HELLO. THIS oh my god. u literally. ok i say this as a joke a lot but i am 100% serious when i say this. u have a way with words. oh my god. predestined and divine?!?!??! AND EASY?!??!?.!.!.!.?!??!&#*×;#*×*#>[×,×

It had just felt like the right thing to do. And George always blushed so prettily.

in my heart this is a reference to 'first impressions in the past tense' (because everybody knows i am that fic's number one fan) and Omg. blushing:(((((( hes so gentle and sweet and 😭😭😭❤️ im emotional

He hoped the fingers he was running through George’s bleached hair was helping.

is that...is that iliwys george im spotting... (vibrating)

“Oh, George .” Matty said, running a hand down George’s sweaty, trembling back. “I’ll take care of you, I will.”

something about the whole Taking Care thing just kills me in the best way. its so :((((( hes so delicate and trembling and im :(((

“I will- will eventually need you to fuck me.” George said, unable to stop a tiny whine from escaping his plush lips.

i dont know how u make the need to be fucked so sweet but u do and i love it. also the word whine is like the best word ever and im !!!! that it is used here

Matty thinks about the pack of condoms still in the bag of groceries on the kitchen floor.

:') prepared :')

“Don’t care.” George said before pressing his hips a little too firmly into the side of Matty’s hip, causing him to whine. Matty would be lying if he said the hot pressure already sitting deep in his abdomen didn’t turn up even more. Molten lava resting in his lower body, barely managing to be contained. Just on the cusp of uncontrollable. “Want your babies.”

this is so pls. 'molten lava' !!! 'whine' !!! "just on the cusp of uncontrollable" omgomg omg omgomgomg omg. "want your babies" beautiful but also . hot. omgomgomg

George’s responding whimper was nothing less than out of this world. Pained but beautiful. A sound Matty had never heard coming from George, even when he was so deep inside of him that he couldn’t physically get further. Even when George would say it hurt a little, but that it was “so good, keep going” .

i just died. ive been killed. OH!! MY!!! GOD!!!! ho is u jane austen . pls. i have no words im just. in awe

“You have me.” Matty said, firm. No questions to be asked, no doubt. “Always.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 OH MY GOD

“I think-” George gasped, tilting his head to press his face into the dip of Matty’s throat. Breathing shakily against Matty’s skin while pushing back against his fingers. “I think I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop.”

he is so delicate :((((((( and desperate :((((( baby :((( he just wants to come :((((((

“ Yes , please-” George's legs started to shake as he whimpered almost pathetically on every exhale, like the noises were violently punched right out of his lungs as Matty redoubled the effort of the circling movements with his fingers. Matty wasn’t even touching him properly. Not really. And George was falling apart completely beneath his touch.

!!!! falling apart completely even though hes barely being touched because he is just So affected by matty !!!!!!!!!! because theyre so !!!!! connected !!!! AAAAAHH!!!!!

George’s eyes started watering, his breath hitching just ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable. But nothing about George could go unnoticed by Matty at this point. He’d never been so hyperfocused on anything in his life as he was on George right now. He saw each and every single one of his eyelashes, the different hues of his lips, the shades of browns and reds and golds of his eyes. The slight irregularities of his breathing pattern and the smallest changes in tone of his scent.

im. dying. "nothing about George could go unnoticed by Matty at this point" HELLO. u write so. wonderfully. lashes!!!! lips!!!! eyes!!!! breathing!!!! scent!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe it was a sickness in itself, loving George too much. Being in love with his eyes and quirks and personality before he fell in lust, and when they actually did have sex it was unlike anything Matty had ever experienced before. Because it was George . Of course it was going to be better. He wasn’t interested in sex if it wasn’t with George, and George was barely conscious by the looks of it. And Matty’s adoration was marginally stronger than his arousal. It shouldn’t be biologically possible, yet here he was. Debating his own feelings rather than giving George what he needed.

HEEELLLLOOOOOOO?????????????? CAN U PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A BOOK I NEED TO BUY IT this. is so. GORGEOUS. "Being in love with his eyes and quirks and personality before he fell in lust" i need to be shot. my heart cant take this. "It shouldn’t be biologically possible, yet here he was. Debating his own feelings rather than giving George what he needed." this as a concept like the "doing things that are Literally Impossible because of love" is just. 11/10. 12/10. 102982782/10. BEAUTIFUL. GORGEOUS. WONDERFUL. if u were published i would pay all the money i have to buy ur book. "debating his own feelings rather than giving george what he needed" OHMYGOD

How can you love someone so much that it becomes selfish?

THIS LINE PLUS THE NOT SHY BUT QUIET LINE OH MY GOD THEYRE oh my god. ingrained into my mind. like. i just cannot

“Need your knot.” George piped up, ripping Matty’s daydreams and ponderings apart at the seams. A sharp cut from his dreamlike state into reality.

somehow u managed to do it again and go from "sweetest most emotional thing u have ever read" to "this is so insanely hot" and have it work. perfectly. im so !!!!!

The air in the room might as well have been chemically bonded with the one of George’s scent glands, creating a viscous substance with the specific intention to breed . It seeped through Matty’s pores and made his knees buckle with a primal urge to claim .

rereading this paragraph nine times every time i read the fic because it is so. awe inspiring. im. AAAAHH!!!!!

When his body was preparing to breed.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

George’s needy whines didn’t help, especially not the noises he made when Matty’s lips gently grazed the impossibly soft skin of one of his nipples. So soft and so pink, an addictive texture beneath his tongue. So he did it again, and again, licking and sucking the sensitive skin as he pushed George’s boxers down his thighs and crawled between his legs. Letting one of his hands wander down the spasming muscles of his abdomen and the crease of his hip before finally stopping right where George needed him, running his fingers through the slick gathering there. And there was so much he was doubting if George would even feel him slipping inside without any friction.

:((((( hes so desperate :((((( i literally do not know how u convey that though its so impressive like !!! its hot but its gentle at the same time and they dont usually Work but u made it work and im ?!?!??! !!!!

He kissed the bony centre of George’s chest before pulling away to just look at him. He looked wrecked, his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions from tossing his head back and forth against the pillow, his lips were a deep shade of red from biting at them and the pulse in his neck was quick as a hummingbird's wings. Accentuated by the sweat lingering there. Pooling in the dip between his sharp clavicles.

:((( hes so beautiful. i cant see him but u described it so well i might as well be able to. :(((((

Loved how George immediately obliged when Matty told him to “Look at me.”

!!! he does what hes told !!!!!!!!

“What do you need, love?” He said, grinding his hips into George’s. Pressing himself impossibly deeper. “Tell me what you need.”

im so obsessed with how u write matty to still be so nice and so gentle with him even when hes like mid fuck. its so perfect :(((

A circling effect. Pleasure for pleasure.

im getting this tattooed along my hairline like ethel cain INSANITY. THIS IS WONDERFUL

Manipulation, really. Guilt-tripping.

hes so afraid to Want :((((( im emotional

“Knot.” George said, and his voice was thick with the lump forming in his throat, Matty could tell he was emotional before he saw the tears brimming in his eyes. Again. He hated himself for thinking George was beautiful when he cried. For finding an ethereal painful beauty in the wetness clinging to his eyelashes. How it highlighted his cheekbones as they trickled down his face. How the tears accentuated the dip between his clavicles. “Just you.” Simple. “Your babies. Want you in me.”

i cannot cannot cannot get over the way u can make it so hot but then make me tear up like 2 seconds later Pls. tears in his eyes:(( tears accentuating dip between clavicles ?!??!?!? this visual is 1. making me insane and 2. so unbelievably gorgeous ??!?!? "want you in me" !!!!!!!!

He leaned down to kiss George senseless as he slammed into him harshly, basking in the smooth drag of the sweaty undersides of George’s knees rubbing against his shoulders and in the noises escaping George’s lips every time his cock bumped right against his cervix. Bruising it from the force of his thrusts, fucking him harder than he could ever remember doing it before, sweat was dripping down his neck and the sensations were only heightened by the pain of George’s nails scraping his upper back.

!!!!!!!!! bruising it!!!!!!!!!! nails scraping!!!!!!! sweaty undersides of his knees!!!!!!!!!! i am so obsessed with how u write

George and his scent. The strawberry and coconut. The vanilla and sugar. The scent that was so indescribably and so frustratingly George that Matty couldn’t ever possibly get it off his chest. Couldn’t ever put it into a lyric. A scent that would forever be ingrained in his heart as an entity of its own. Never to be let out. Imprinted. Indescribable.

OHMYGOD???!??!?!?! i have no words other than im printing this out and putting it on my wall

Because as he slammed into George one last time, one last hard thrust where their skin met before couldn’t keep going, before he physically and mentally had to stay buried, shaking through the force of his orgasm. Bringing George with him. Sweaty, tangled limbs and his knot swelling and swelling inside of George, but it was more beautiful than anything he’s ever read about.

!!!!!! i just cannot. like theyre so. together. theyre almost one person im so :((((( and even though hes literally actively fucking him hes so sweet:(((

Getting to watch the tears trickle down his face, feel his chest heaving against his own. Being so connected that he never wanted it to end.

!!!!! connected !!!!!!!! pls im just so emotional like theyre so in love !!!!!!!!!!! tears !!!!!!!! trickling !!!!!!!! chest heaving !!!!!!!

Swimming in the depths of George’s soul.

ripping my hair out

Matty couldn’t ever seem to stop marvelling at George. Finding a new mole on his smooth skin every single day. A new undertone to his scent. A new pathway of neurons in his brain.

im gonna hand write this on a piece of paper in like calligraphy and im gonna get it tattooed

Using his unfair advantage of having eyes deep enough to lure Matty into oblivion to distract Matty for a second. If held at gunpoint, Matty would probably say it was his favourite part of George. The closest he’d come to merging them into an entity. The closest he’d come to divinity.

OHMYFUCKINGGOD this is ridiculous u are so amazing. "the closest hed come to divinity" ARE U SERIOUS this is beautiful. merging them into an entity oh good god

“I asked you to.” George said. Quick to comfort. Grounding Matty as if subgenders didn’t exist, as if Matty needed the comfort as much as George did, and maybe it was true. “I know I did.”

theyre so ! connected ! it doesnt matter that theyve got their 'roles' mixed up because they are !!!!! them !!!!!!!! theyre their own thing!!!!!!! aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh

Like it was the first time they’d kissed, clumsily at that one house party when they were both a little too drunk.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 nobody talk

“It’s not about deserving anything.” George said, quick to pull Matty’s head down to capture his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. Just their mouths pressed together, no incentive for progression, no underlying motive other than to just be close. Ground each other. As they pulled away enough to breathe, George spoke again. “Just me loving you. I can’t help it.”

i was gonna say im getting This tattooed instead but im just getting the entire fic actually. this. is so. beautiful. ground each other!!!!!!!! im so:((((

“Do you mean that?” George said, and Matty despised the slight shift of mood. Didn’t ever like the sound of insecurity on George’s tongue. Especially not when it was in the form of doubting their relationship, of Matty's feelings towards him.

the way matty gets so stressed about george feeling bad Oh one day u will kill me dead with ur writing. hes so affected by it :( just the thought that hes insecure Aaaaaahhhh

“You never have to doubt my feelings for you.” He said, not able to resist the scent emitting from George’s throat, just shamelessly burying his nose there for a couple of seconds before pulling away to cradle his jaw in both of his hands. “I loved you even when your hair was past shoulder length.”

IM SICK. i cant describe why i love this but imagine me yelling at the floor or something because thats the closest i can get to an explanation

if it was possible i would give u three thousand million infinity kudos. times twenty. u just. u write so emotionally and u always somehow capture the feeling SO perfectly and i just love it So much :((((( ok ok ok sorry for sending an ask thats like twelve years long but i hope ur day is going nicely and yayayaya !!!!!!!!

HI!!!!! (I think I made it a little darker to suit the new george icon). And also I'm in love with u, to start things off lightly.

I feel like I can never do ur (fucking beautiful elaborate breakdown) reviews any justice. PLEASE know ur legitimately making me the happiest person alive and i love u. (not dramatic, don't even try to send me any divorce papers. we're married now.)

Here's me trying to condense all of the praise I've just read and trying not to blush like George in my fics:

I'VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I WILL SAY IT AGAIN (I re-read my fics through your asks and use it for inspiration, so really u should be credited as a co-author for everything I post jifsjijf.) ALSO: Need to start a fanclub and fic-verse about:

George having nightmares

George's shiny, perfect nose-bridge

YOUNG MATTY/GEORGE (origin story. there's so many possibilities and scenarios. scream at me.)

Desperate needy George (we all love him, right? RIGHT?)

Matty taking care of George

I was so obsessed with the concept of a realism in the a/b/o-verse. Like almost to the point where it's a bit of a turn-off? So I'm glad it came across and I hope it didn't ruin what was supposed to be....hot? Like George's little post-coital dysphoria and talks of birth control. I don't know why, but it felt right to me. Also George just being upset in the aftermath of needing Matty to bed him was sweet to me somehow.

(Just me wanting to make George cry in every single fic ever. Probably.)

ALSO: Ur reference to 'first impressions in the past tense' has me in tears. Subconsciously, I probably had that in mind but it wasn't something I had thought of at the time of writing and u are SO SO right. Baby George not knowing what to do with his feelings and being....a little odd. And Matty being loud and obnoxious and taking George under his wing whether he liked it or not. (obviously he did.). They're so sweet :(. (They're probably my favourite m/g I've ever written).

Feverish, glassy eyed, baby George needs to be cherished. AS DOES Matty who just wants to make things better and overthinks everything to ridiculous degrees. They love each other so much and this is my perfect form of escapism.

THANK U FOR THIS. I LOVE U. (and can't wait for what u post next obviously) ❤️❤️❤️

[bugmomwrites]

Bloody Knuckles (Satori Tendou x GN!Reader)

A/N: My first time writing for Tendou! He was definitely one of the more multi faceted characters I’ve seen thus far, and I wanted to portray him in a way that wasn’t just an unhinged crackhead and it turns out I’m soft for The Weird Ones With A Heart Of Gold so...yay? 

Give this song a listen while you read!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8GwUos_Mtw&list=LLMufVjq3gMI8bOOKLeFGq4g&index=257

If this takes off and enough people ask/comment/reblog I may write part 2 but no promises

TW: You break someone’s nose so a little blood? You can throw a mean punch in this one. Do with that what you will.

“Hey, I’m sorry for worrying you. Semi kind of exaggerated over the phone but I swear I’m fine.”

Silence.

You gulp. Tendou has already thanked the nurse for cleaning your cuts, and offers to wrap the last couple bandages. Sensing you two needed to be alone, she gives him the roll and quietly tends to the others. The several wrappings on his own hands must have been enough of an indication to them, seeming to say I know what I’m doing! I’ve done this before!, and it wasn’t like it was anything major. If it was something more graphic, say, a gun wound, they might have done it themselves. But here he was, wrapping you up with a level of care and intimacy reserved only for you.

How on earth did he let this happen again? You had been on your way to the gym around the same time he usually finished practice so the two of you could walk home together and hang out after school. Nothing out of the ordinary. You even had his varsity jacket on to block out the chilly autumn breeze, grateful that the sleeves were long enough to go well past your hands. His number 5 stitched onto the back was just the icing on the cake, and you wore it with pride.

Except today had been a little different.

As his s/o, you were very well aware of his past experiences with bullying, how he was labeled a “monster” by his peers; excluded from activities and singled out- sometimes even by the teachers. And while he had initially grown from the experience, feeling much more confident not just with age but with you becoming a vital part of his life as well, that didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten it either. Even though it was much less common in high school, there would still be the rare few that had something nasty say about him, but you didn’t think you’d ever witness it first hand in your third and final year.

As luck would have it, your “good behavior” streak came to a screeching halt when you heard snickers coming a little ways behind you. Frowning, you turned your head just in time to see a cluster of what looked like a few college kids from the team Shiratorizawa practiced against. You wondered briefly what was so amusing to them, when the shortest of the three beckoned you over. Hesitantly, you followed to where they were, just a couple yards away from the gym entrance.

“Can I help you?”, you asked curiously. One of them nodded, leaning down a bit and spoke.

“Yeah, we couldn’t help but wonder- are you dating the infamous Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa? The number on your back looked familiar.”

“Oh you mean Tendou! Yeah, he’s the greatest. Have you guys met him?”, at this they all exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. You faltered, half expecting that these guys were maybe friends of his, or at least on good terms. Anytime someone would ask you about your boyfriend, you were used to gushing about him to anyone who would listen, so this mockery was unprecedented. 

“Looks like even the Yokai scored a s/o before you did after all, Katsu. Pay up.” The one named Katsu groaned, but reached into his wallet nonetheless and handed over a few paper bills. At this, you frowned. Who the hell did they think they were, speaking so poorly about the man you loved with your whole heart?!

Indignantly, you huffed are them, demanding to know what kind of beef they had with Tendou. They glared down at you, retaliating with some judgmental comments. You couldn’t even remember how it escalated; whether it was a gradual build up or one sole thing that sent you from 0 to 100, but before you knew it hands were being thrown, and the little voice in the back of your mind warning you about utterly stupid you were acting was ultimately silenced.

Being outnumbered, and not to mention much smaller it wasn’t hard for them to land a couple hits on you. Unbeknownst to you Semi passed by the commotion just in time to see two of the guys comforting their friend, who was now holding a bloody nose.

This would have been the perfect time to make your getaway, but after you heard the words “psycho bitch” there was nothing in your veins but pure unadulterated rage, and any momentary relief Semi may have felt at the prospect of the scrap winding down, was shot down almost instantly.

He wasn’t too sure who he should be more worried for, but getting in the middle of it wouldn’t end well for anybody. The sight of maroon blotches on the concrete and smearing over all four of you sent him into a mild panic, as he turned the corner and dialed 911.

“Yeah, Shiratorizawa Academy. Just outside the gym. Thank you. Please hurry.”

He still had one more call to make, although he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Steeling his nerves and swallowing any anxiety that got caught in his throat he tapped the green call button. The dial tone sounded for fifteen long seconds before a cheerful voice finally greeted him on the other line.

“Semi-Semi? I’m right inside. Did you forget something after practice?”

“Tendou! It’s Semi. Hurry outside, it’s urgent.”

“I think the last time I decked somebody on your behalf was before we got to Shiratorizawa. Middle schoolers are ruthless”, you chuckled nervously, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. When he still didn’t respond, you cleared your throat.

“Tendou?”, you speak again, but this time your voice is much softer. Much more uncertain. As if you’re afraid to raise your voice out of fear of one or both of you breaking. With a shaky sigh, you reach a newly wrapped hand under his chin.

“Satori.”

This time, his face lifts into your view, and you don’t miss the way his brows furrow with worry, or the way his lips tremble as glossy eyes avert your own. A heavy hand is placed over yours, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your palm.

People had always told you that one of these days that temper of yours would get you into trouble. That was one other difference you had with Tendou- your boyfriend was nicknamed the “Guess Monster” on and off the court, the title coming from his hyper observant nature and uncanny ability to easily read the people around him at a moments notice. Tendou was strategic, often analyzing even the most mundane from seemingly every angle, running the possibilities through his brain before executing a final decision.

You on the other hand? You were impulsive, brash, the patron saint of “act first think later”. You were prone to getting caught up in the moment, and being much more volatile than your romantic counterpart. That mentality, coupled with your loyalty and strong sense of justice was the perfect storm for leading you into scenarios much like this one. 

Sure, you had scared off bullies for Tendou before, and every time he would hug you tight and tell you to “be more careful next time”, and just like clockwork you’d be on your best behavior for all of a week or so before inevitably relapsing back to instinctive rage. The cycle would continue, and for a while spats like these became less frequent, much to Tendou’s joy.

This was not “just another spat”.

Instead of relieved affection and that familiar grin you knew and loved, the back of the ambulance was deadly quiet, save for the EMTs bustling around outside.

His name still hung in the air, and before you could say anything else you felt warm droplets rolling onto your newly wrapped hands. One by one teardrops soaked through the fabric in the form of little dots, and your heart dropped as the harsh reality set in. 

Tendou Satori was crying. Your lovably goofy, sweet boyfriend, who you swore to protect from all the vile comments. From all the evil in the world. From any and all things that would make him cry.

But this time, it was because of you.

In your crusade of being his metaphorical umbrella in the harshest storms raining from above, you had neglected to notice the muddy puddles below, leading him right into them while he faithfully believed in you. 

Those kids might have been calling Tendou a monster, but now? The title seemed to be more fitting for you. You had to fix this. You had to bring that smile back. You were the only one who could bring back the sun from the dreary raincloud that hung over the both of you.

“Tori, baby... look at me.”

After what seemed like eons, teary brown eyes met (e/c) ones. You wondered how it was possible for them to look so shiny, and yet so subdued at the same time. There were originally so many apologies and words running through your head that you had planned, each one thought out carefully enough to make Tendou proud. You wanted to tell him all of it, while putting some sense of comfort in knowing that you were trying to express your feelings with words (and not impulsive actions) that you pondered. That you came up with. That you considered before speaking, for once in your life.

But as soon as you made eye contact, they disappeared into thin air. Every mentally rehearsed statement, gone. So  you rested your forehead against his in a silent apology. Words would fail you, and as much as you wanted to be just as eloquent as Tendou, the small gesture seemed to do more than a million I’m sorry’s ever could.

So the pair of you sat on the stretcher in a silence that seemed much less suffocating now, forehead to forehead, and kissing away tears.

After several minutes had passed, Tendou leaned into your hand some more, and turned to lay a kiss into your palm. 

Now it was your turn to tear up a little. After seeing firsthand the kind of harassment your boyfriend went through on a daily basis, you knew you had to be strong for his sake. The reasonable part of you told you to not pick a fight with certain people, no matter what. That there was no shame in taking the high road. But then you’d remember all the times he’d come home dejected and hurt, and the indignation that came with people so casually dragging his name through the mud, having no idea just how much words hurt. 

Being “his protector” was taxing, and you realized that, while you’d do everything in your power to keep that smile on his face, sometimes you needed to let him be there for you too. As equals.

The tears were now dried up, no words needed as the walls of the tiny ambulance began to feel less restricting. Much like a sun shower, it wasn’t completely better yet, but it was obvious things were on the mend, at the very least. There was always a short window of time during a rainstorm where the sun would peek out, despite the last few drops of rain not disappearing completely. Moments like these- where the sadness was still lingering, but took a backseat to make room for relief, bittersweetness, and love- were where a rainbow would shine through. This purgatory was beautiful, yet ephemeral, and if you didn’t embrace it quickly enough it would fade away.

And with that, Tendou took a page out of your book and kissed you sweetly. It took you by surprise at first, but before too long you were melting into it. Vulnerable, but filled with a new kind of strength.

Pulling away as you remembered the ambulance doors were still half open, you attempted to reach to pull them shut. Alas, Tendou was a master at reading people, but most especially you, and you two were closed off from the rest of the world with a satisfying click.

Using this window of opportunity where his guard was down, you pulled him back down to your level for a longer, steamier kiss as you card your hand through his hair. You could almost feel him smirking against you, and in that moment you knew your sunshine was here to stay. After a few moments of shared breaths, mingling tongues and wandering hands, you finally separated and took in his dishelved appearance. Although, you were certain you didn’t look much better.

“I know I’m not as good with words as you are, but I’d love to apologize properly...maybe with actions?” 

His eyes softened, lifting both of your bandaged hands in his to his lips as he tenderly kissed your bruised knuckles.

“I’d like that.”

.

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[ikemenfics]

Every Kiss Begins With...Chocolate?

A Mitsuhide birthday and a bottle of sake later…

Me: ….the hell I just write?

Word Count: 2817

Note: Thanks to @acrispyapple for letting me steal her banner phrase for all of this.  Should you come to regret this choice, I will remove the phrase.

You sat up, stretching your arms above your head, working the last vestiges of sleep from your system.  You glanced, seeing light from outside bathing your quarters in a golden glow.  “A pretty day,” you mused, “I wonder what I’ll be doing today.”

SUDDENLY

The room seemed to warp as a tear appeared in the fourth wall, a figure decked in white stepping forth.  He gave a bow, a gloved hand moving towards his chest in an elegant flourish.

“Pardon me,” he said, his face all smiles as emerald eyes glimmered at you, “My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to bring you this.”  He reached into nowhere and pulled out a bag, handing it to you, stating, “I was told that this will bring joy to this day.”  With that, he stepped back into the tear he had created, and brandishing a rapier, used the tip to zip up the tear, leaving your room just as it was before his appearance.

(That...was odd) You glanced down at the bag he’d given you, turning it over to read the label, “Hershey’s….” you murmured, utterly confounded.  (He said it’d be joy...I think I should take this with me)  You stood and dressed, tucking the bag of chocolatey goodness into your bag.

Walking the halls, it wasn’t long before you found a member of the new family you had been blessed with for your Sengoku stay.

“Mornin’, lass,” his easy voice greeted you with a grin.  You smiled and greeted him back, your treat bag scrunching as you moved into your formal bow.  “Whatcha got in there?”

“Oh,” you paused, opening the noisy purse a little, showing him the candy bag underneath, “I was given this.”  You decidedly did not mention who or how said this was given.  “It’s to bring joy to this day,” you offered cheerfully.

His brow quirked as he examined the contents of your purse, “How’s that, lass?”

You smiled, reaching into the bag, and pulled out one of the teardrop pieces, “The village I come from, they’re called ‘kisses’.”

Masamune nabbed the small bit of Hershey’s from your fingers, examining the shiny wrapping.  “Lass,” Masamune’s voice sounded disappointed but patient, almost like he was explaining a concept to a stubborn child, “this isn’t a kiss.”  He leaned forward, his singular eye glittering as the cat-eyed the mouse, “Let me demonstrate a kiss-”

Your hands were up, pushing his face away, “No.  Nope nope nope nope.  Not gonna do it.”  Masaume frowned down at you, miffed you spoiled his opening, “They’re called kisses, not because of that, but because they’re small ‘kisses of chocolate.’  You eat them.”

Masamune eyed the chocolate, then you, and said, “Your village sounds stranger and stranger, kitten.”  

“No, wait!  You have to unwrap the foil off them first!”  You cried, the image of Masamune eating aluminum.  Masamune looked at the alien food again a moment longer.  An idea struck him, then.  He grinned then, snagging your purse, and the Kisses, from your unprepared hand.  The sapphire storm was halfway out of sight, calling behind him, “Thanks for the kisses.  I’ll put them to good use, lass.”

(Th-that…..one eyed dragon!  Wait...Good use?) You took off after him, ready to call a protest, and rounded the corner finding two more warlords.

“Look at her,” the blond one stated, his eyes full of what you had come to realize was mock awe, “Just charges on without looking.  How are you still alive?”

“You shouldn’t run in the halls,” Hideyoshi chided.  

Your eyes frantically found Masamune, watching you from his sparkly orb.  “Hey, Hideyoshi,” he called, “got something for ya.”

Hideyoshi frowned, “You sound like Mitsuhide.  First, tell me what it is?”

Masamune’s face looked about the same as when he hit the battlefield.  (That face doesn’t bode well…)  “It’s from the lass.  Got enough for everyone.” (Ok...that’s...not so bad.  But I don’t think Hideyoshi will take to sweets)

Hideyoshi’s gaze turned towards you, eagerness almost surfacing before he snuffed it down deep, “Alright.  If it’s from the Princess, I won’t refuse.”  Masamune placed a drop in Hideyoshi’s waiting hand, leaving the latter warlord to look at it in confusion.  “What is that?”

“It’s this,” Masamune responded, grabbing the other warlord and pressing his lips to Hideyoshi’s.  Your eyes nearly fell from your head as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.  Hideyoshi’s expression practically mirrored yours, his lids wide open and shock freezing him a moment before he forcefully shoved Masamune away.

“MASAMUNE, HOW DARE-”

Masamune had already moved, his aim the grouch whose proverbial jaw landed on the floor.  As soon as he realized the warlord of Oshu was gaining on him, he shook his head, “Don’t even think about i-”

Masamune chucked the snack at Ieyasu, the latter’s movements shifting immediately to catch it, leaving him entirely open.  Masamune used the distraction and his larger size and seized Ieyasu in a kiss of his own. Muffled protests met your ears and the kiss was suddenly over.  

“I am rubbing poison ivy on your bandages from now on!”

You ran between the two fuming men, shouting apologies, but couldn’t stay to explain as the veritable tiger man was already prowling for his next victim.

(Oh no...Mitsunari...run…) You pleaded, your tongue apparently no longer working in the current state of affairs.

“Good morning Masamune-sama,” the cheerful voice greeted.  “Oh, and Hideyoshi-sama, too.”  Mitsunari bowed to his lord.  “Ah, Ieyasu-sama, good mor-”

“It is certainly NOT a good morning,” el porcupine announced, “and you should run before THAT menace does something you can’t understand.”

“Understand?”  Mitsunari blinked.

“Got something for ya.”

Mitsunari held out his hand, all innocence and smiles, and received his present.  “Oh-” was all he got out before Masamune lips were on his.  Mitsunari didn’t move, the kiss ending and Mitsunari’s nervous laughter filling the hall.  “Oh dear, Masamune-sama.”

“Masamune,” Hideyoshi strode, “what is the meaning of all this?”

“Ask her,” Masamune thumbed your direction and started laughing, “she said she had these things.  They’re kisses that you eat.”

Eyes blinked and you shuffled feeling a bit on the spot.  “They’re kisses of chocolate…” you murmured, bashful.

“How do you eat a kiss?  Do you use your teeth?”  Mitsunari pondered.

“You’re special, you know that?” Ieyasu muttered.

“Nah, that’s biting.  It’s like kissing, but there’s a winner,” Masamune answered the angel in purple.  

Hideyoshi snorted at that, “Ok, but why are you running around assaulting everyone?”

“Because, I told you,” Masamune answered as if it were 100% sane and sensible, “she has kisses for everyone.  So I’m giving you kisses.”  Groans met him.

“Who is giving who kisses?” A low voice interrupted.  Everyone turned, finding the snowy-haired warlord viewing the spectacle with amusement.

“I am,” Masamune announced, taking Mitsuhide’s hand to press a chocolate into it.  Mitsuhide didn’t even look at the item before Masa’s mouth was firmly against his own.  Hideyoshi fought, Ieyasu protested, Mitsunari just took it, all the while Mitsuhide seemed to be studying, and you were faint with a weird sense of either hysteria or giddiness, you weren’t sure.

Masamune backed off and found Mitsuhide’s watching him in quiet bemusement.  “Kisses you say,” Mitsuhide brought the confection up to examine, “well, allow me to return your gift.”  Mitsuhide nabbed Masamune and both found themselves locked in embrace again, Masa grunting in surprise but offering no resistance.

“Mitsuhide,” Hideyoshi interjected, clearly about to announce he was done with the nonsense, “don’t encourage him!  We have to attend a war council.”

The M’s parted, but Masa pressed the chocolate to Mitsuhide’s chest once more, snagging another peck before sauntering away, “No takebacks!”

“Ugh,” Ieyasu pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’ve got three headaches and all are M’s…”

“Least he’ll be on time for today’s meeting,” Hideyoshi grumbled.  (Silver linings, I suppose)

The meeting was like all meetings, much of it worrying you, scaring you, and then going over your head.  It was easy to tune it out to contemplate your own issues, like getting home, Sasuke, did you still have a job waiting for you.

“That sounds like the best strategy,” Nobunaga was saying, you almost going back to your thoughts when he gave the ending question, “Anything else we need to discuss?”

(Yay, meeting’s over!)

“I have something,” Masamune proclaimed.  Velvety blue turned to stare at you and your heart sank.

(Oh.  My.  God.  No...we’re all gonna die…)

You were trying not to heave as Masamune reached into that accursed bag, “I have a gift for you, my lord.”

Cinnamon eyes warmed in anticipation, “There is no ceremony that demands a gift to me.” (Yes, Nobunaga, tell him no!)  “But,” your heart fell somewhere beneath the floorboards (If only my ceiling ninja could be under the floor to save me!), “I will not deny a present from my subject.”  He held out his hand, expectantly.

Masamune moved close, placing the foil-wrapped item into Nobunaga’s hand.  Nobunaga glanced at it, dubiously.  “What’s this?”

Masamune looked almost as evil as the devil himself as he went for the kill-I mean kiss.  He tilted his head, fitting his mouth fully over the devil king’s and the entire room seemed to explode into action.  

“How dare you assault our lord, Masamune!”

“I always knew you were suicidal…”

“So how is this eating kisses?”

“I will miss him so.”

Your lungs constricted, but Nobunaga seemed to just go with the impromptu makeout session, his eyes open as he examined the One-Eyed Madman.  

Masamune backed away, Nobunaga carnelian orbs assessing his general, “That was a brave move, Date Masamune.”  You held your breath, praying to anyone listening that Masamune not die or be horribly maimed today.  After all, this was the man that beat a maid over a stick and killed a man over rice.  “But that doesn’t answer the question of what this is.”

Masamune smirked, “According to the lass it does.”  Six men were suddenly staring at you and you were sure your whole body was probably red.  “She calls them kisses.  So I gave you a kiss.”

“This is not a kiss, Masamune.”  Nobunaga held up the sweet.

“I told her.  I’ve been spending the day showing her what kisses are.”

“Is THAT why you’ve assaulted everyone today?”  Hideyoshi’s outburst went ignored.

Nobunaga’s gaze bored holes into your very soul and set it on fire.  “My lucky charm really doesn’t know what a kiss is?”  He smiled then and you knew you were entirely done for if something didn’t happen, quick.

“They’re…” your words were breathy and you were light-headed, this whole fiasco turning you sheepish, “called chocolate kisses.  Because it’s like a kiss of milk chocolate.”

“Come,” that singular command.  You did your best not tremble as you approached the dais.  Nobunaga shifted, leaving his cushion to pull you up, settling you onto the vacated spot.  Warmth seeped in through your knees from the previous occupant.  Fingers grabbed your chin, forcing your head upward.  His head drew near, while his hand moved to grab your, placing something small into it.  

Your mind barely registered that he’d given you the chocolate kiss Masamune had previously awarded before Nobunaga’s lips sealed over your own.  You gave a questioning, “mmph.” Your eyes wide, but surprise had you unable to move.  

His kiss ended, leaving you flustered all over.  “Well, for treating Masamune to all these kisses for him to spread,” Nobunaga announced, gesturing to the others, “Everyone who has received a kiss in her honor now gets a chance to return the favor.  You all may approach.”

Of course, Masa was first, “Since I got the first kiss…” Masamune didn’t finish, lips snagging yours even as the denial that he was given that type of kiss could even fully rise from your throat.  It was rough, just like the man giving it, and you could feel his teeth pressing into you before he withdrew.  He grinned at you, and you swore if he had two eyes, one would wink at you.

Ieyasu came second, “Don’t get me wrong.  I’m just getting this over with.”  Ieyasu’s kiss trailed over your top lip, then your bottom, before taking you full-on, leaving you to whimper in its wake.  When it was over, jade stared at you, a smirking triumph gracing Ieyasu’s features as he stepped away.

Hideyoshi followed suit, “As my lord commands.”  When his tongue probed, you opened your mouth, your logic far far away -probably jettisoned 500 years into the future at this point- leaving you to just revel in all of it.  The hot appendage traced over the roof of your mouth, your moan low and guttural.  (I knew he was a ladies’ man, but holy cats he’s a great kisser).  You almost fell over as Hideyoshi left, his own cheeks ruddy as he whispered something your ears couldn’t catch.

Mitsunari stepped up, his visage about the same shade as you were certain yours was.  “Please accept this,” he bowed formally, his lips ghosting over your own.  Sensations lit your senses on fire as his tongue traced your shape.  That tease was all you got before he backed away, “Please excuse me…”

A silver fox was all that was left.  His lips were shaped in what could only be called utter glee as he observed your discomforts.  “Don’t think that I’ll go easy on you just because everyone got to tease you today, Princess.”  You closed your eyes, giving a soft whine of you weren’t quite sure you were going to allow yourself to identify what emotion as Mitsuhide closed in on you.  The scene behind your eyelids darkened as he moved close, warmth pressing to your forehead.  (Oh thank goodness…)  Mitsuhide gave a soft grunt of mirth and Mitsuhide was gone.

You were moving to also leave when a heavy hand fell on your shoulder.  Oda Nobunaga held up the Hershey’s Kiss to your eyes and you realized  (oh no...he stuck it in his mouth).  He demanded, “How are you supposed to eat this?”

Your voice was weak, all the roller coaster of the day leaving you in a state of odd euphoria as you answered, “You’re...supposed to take the foil...off.”

And that, Sasuke, is how I wound up being kissed by six warlords.

“Your intense face tells me the news from Azuchi is serious,” Shingen all but purred, the idea that his great enemy was in a bind filling him with joy.

“His army marches, then?  We are going to war?”  Kenshin, smiled as well, stroking the sword that scarce left his side.

“Sasuke,” Yukimura called, “Hey Sasuke.  You aren’t answering…”

The green ninja in question’s face was unreadable, as always, leaving the other three to question incessantly as he stared at the letter you had sent him.  He stood, excusing himself before leaving the room, Yukimura close behind.

“What’s gotten into him?”

“The army is marching, Tiger.  It’s the only time he gets like this,” Kenshin pouted, “Why must I have such a war hating ninja?”

“Oi, Sasuke!”  Sasuke stopped, still saying nothing, but allowed his friend to catch up to him.  “What’s wrong with you?  Boar woman hurt?  She finally charge headlong off a cliff?  She decide to come here or something?”

Sasuke handed him the letter, the red warrior reading it over.

“If I had only known it would have taken chocolate to win over Ieyasu,” Sasuke whispered.

Yuki didn’t hear. Instead, his brows furrowed in confusion, “The warlords ate her?!  How do you eat kisses??”

All of a sudden, the world seemed to warp, a point of a rapier piercing as if from behind a screen.  The blade moved downward, sliding a neat slice into the scenery.  A gentleman decked in white stepped into the courtyard Sasuke and Yukimura stood in.  He gave an elegant bow, smiled, and said, “Pardon me.  My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to bring you this.”  His hands reached into nothing and pulled a bag into existence.  Handing it to Sasuke, he continued, “I am pleased to hear that joy has been brought earlier today.  I will now bestow the same to you, to bring joy to your day.”  And with that, he stepped back into the hole in reality, using his blade to seal the cut he had previously created, leaving the world as perfect as before his arrival.

“What the…” Yukimura had his weapon out, but with no enemy to attack and the stranger completely gone, he seemed at a loss on what to do next.

Sasuke held up the bag, reading aloud, “Hershey’s kisses.”  The light of the sun reflected off his glasses, making his already indiscernible face impossible to decipher.

“Hershey...kisses?”  Yuki parroted.  He looked at the bag, seeing the small chocolates inside.  He reread over the letter, realization dawning.  “Hey, Sasuke…”

“Yeah.”

“.....You’re not giving me one of those.”

---------~~-----

Writer, what did I just read?

……...crack

Writer, why is Edgar here?

Well, you see...I figured I was gonna have to shoehorn why and how the kisses survived...why not really shoehorn the plot in.

Ok, but why Edgar?

Cuz he’s the most likely one to have Hershey’s Kisses

But he can’t cut through canons like that

Yeah he can...there’s a thing...during the anniversary.  Loki did too

….Fine.

^.^

Are you gonna write a Sasuke sequel?  I wanna see if Sasuke kisses Kenshin!

Well, you see...about that...LOOK, A DISTRACTION!

“Pardon me.  My name is Edgar and I have been commanded…”

-flees-

[d-om]

Daddy’s Work - ( Soryu  Fanfic )

Congratulations to my giveaway winner @rockingbrooklyn!! She requested I write a fic where Soryu takes his toddler daughter to work and spends the day with him. ((: I’m sorry for the delay!! But here it is! 💕 Hope you enjoy.

Words: 1791 Genre: Fluff Notes: I haven’t written something happy in sooo long! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed!

“B-Boss!?” Stuttered one.

“Who’s that??!” Wailed another.

Their necks that stretched above to see Soryu now ducked down to gaze at the dainty figure that hid behind his leg. It clung so tightly to the hem of his pants, wrinkling the fabric with the intensity of its grasp.

“Go on..” Soryu ushered the being by popping his chin in the direction of the men. “Say hi.”

He tried spreading his leg to unveil the face that was hidden behind him. However, all it did was scurry behind his leg and grip it tighter. Strange. She wasn’t usually shy.

“Oh, come here.” Soryu bent down to wrestle the mysterious being from the clutch of his outfit. He started to chuckle as he maneuvered his hands around it, and in return, it giggled with him as well. Delicate chime bells was one way to describe the laughter of this figure. Who exactly was this creature behind him? It seemed like some child but.. Soryu with a child? Him having a wife was already hard to wrap their head around.

Soon however, the moment ceased as Soryu lifted the figure high in the air and delighted screams were now accompanied by gasp of the men.

Was that? A girl? A female child? With SORYU?

Their mouths gaped open and their eyes bursted from their sockets. Their focal point was now her. Everything about her. Curls that bounced when contacted with her shoulders. Eyes that seemed to reflect every celestial being that roamed the sky. Cheeks brushed with careful strokes of red. And even the minuscule silk bow that added a touch of elegance. Next to Soryu, they seemed like complete opposites. The men were confused before, but now they couldn’t even comprehend the situation. Soryu laid his arms around her waist and prompted her on his hip, turning his leg to pop his hip out further.

“Now, can you say hi?” He dragged the sentence slowly and added the sweet chord to the end of his sentence. What the hell was he doing? Was he really being cute, err, trying to be cute with this girl?

“...Hi..” Barely a whisper of the word. Yet, it was the last flame that the bomb of questions needed.

“BOSS, TELL US?!!”

“WHO IS THAT CUTE LITTLE GIRL???”

“BOSS..DID YOU- No.. DID YOU STEAL A LITTLE GIRL???!!”

“Guys, please...” He loved them. Dearly. But at times like these, he wished he could sew their mouths shut to prevent any more nonsense spewing through their teeth. “This is my daughter-“

He ignited yet another bomb.

“LIES!”

“This cute little girl can’t be your daughter!”

“You’re too scary for a girl like that!!”

Quite the insults coming from the men who coward at his glare. Not men. Idiots. All of them. His mouth opened, ready to defend his honor that was shattering as they continued to doubt his ties with his little girl. Yet, his words never vibrated the waves of air. Instead, hers did.

“This is my daddy!” The laughter ceased in an instant. “Daddy is not scary! Daddy handsome!” Her hands latched onto Soryu’s shoulders as she leaned towards the crowd. What did they mean Daddy was scary? Daddy always gave her gifts and read stories to her! Even as a small child, her cheeks grew hot with anger and puffed threateningly.

“Say sorry!” She now pointed her finger directly in the center of the group.

“Pfft..” Soryu shifted his head, muffling his chuckles through the gate of his hand. Just like her mother. Just like her.

“B-But..”

“Say sorry NOW!”

“W-We’re sorry!” They fell to their knees and begged for their mercy. Shivers that ran along their spine paralyzing their heads downward in a respectful position.

“You guys never change..” He felt a warmth rapture his heart and stream it’s way to every corner of his body. “You still always listen to the girls..” They listened like dogs when under the harsh criticism of his wife or his daughter. Peculiar yet amusing. One of the group’s quirks supposedly.

“Alright..” Though as playful this time had been, Soryu’s duty laid heavy on his shoulders. Several documents, discussions with neighboring mafia’s had to be dealt with to maintain the order that strictly flowed. Yet, how could he leave? No. No. He had to.

“Well.. Since you’re acquainted...” Soryu freed his arm from underneath her and lowered his posture, delicately placing her feet on the carpet. “I trust you’ll take good care of her as I attend to what needs to be done.”

“No!!” Her tiny grasp seized his onward motion. She looked at him, her eyes once filled with the stars now clouded, brimming on the edge with tears. She didn’t want Daddy to leave! Lush curls teetered back and forth as she buried her snot stricken face into the fabric of his pants once more.

“I wanna play! Play!” A demand? Or a cry for affection? It broke his heart regardless. Yes, he wanted to hold and play with her too. Tangle his finger through the cyclones of her hair. Rub the edge of his calloused knuckles through the tender and gentle warmth of her cheeks. But, in order to do that, he needed to work so they could continue these blissful moments. Not live a life controlled by fear and violence.

“I promise,” Soryu raked his fingers through her hair and clemently tousled her frills, “After Daddy’s done, we’ll play lots. Okay?”

His smile lifted his face and wrinkled the sides of his eyes. Lovingly narrowing to convey his immeasurable love he endured for her. She seemed to understand. Daddy play with her later? Yay! In return, she widened her smile larger than Soryu’s to show him her approval. Releasing him of her hold, she lifted her pinky.

“Promise?”

Taken aback at the gesture Soryu widened his eyes. Where had she learn that? An image of his beloved replayed through his head like an ancient film. Ahh. Yes. Of course. From the one he admired most yet again. He too raised his pinky.

“Promise.”

—- Few hours Later ——

“Daddy?” A noise, barely a whisper softly cooed at Soryu. Even at such a volume, he could recognized that sweet melody of notes

“What is it, Princess?” He unfurled his neck from the bent position it was in. Scattered cracking under the pressure as he straightened.

“Why does Daddy have to put a time out on bad guys?” She timidly glazed her way to Soryu’s side, keeping her head parallel to the carpet. Playing with the Ice Dragons was entertaining, yet she longed to ravage in the same exhilaration with her father. This feeling. A feeling of longing to be close to her father felt.. guilty. How could a young girl feel this way? At the age of five no less.

Through the thin shield of her curls, Soryu could see her eyes. Lashes low to the ground and her cheeks pouting a peach color contrary to the rose blush before. What sort of question was he being asked? More of, how did such a question arise- Right. The Dragons must’ve told her stories. Damn.. How to respond..How-to-respond..

“Because I need to protect you..” A truthful answer. One that slipped through his tongue. However, his response awoke an emotion inside of her that was yet to be explored thoroughly. One of misunderstanding and hurt. Big welts of tears began to sweep down the sides of her cheeks, her nose unfurling the snot that was dried before. Her shoulders shook slightly as she hastily tried to dispel of her tears through the near end of her palm.

“H-Hey-“

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” She managed to scream the agonizing words through the hiccups of her tears.

“Why are you apologizing?” The chair beneath him was casted aside. Rapidly, he ran to her aid. Kneeling to her side, drying the tears with his sleeve and pulling her into his embrace while rhythmically patting her back. He was baffled. Why was she crying? What was he supposed to do? Did he misword something?

“B-Because!” Her sudden scattered inhales interrupted her explanation. “I-I put Daddy in s-scary posit-positions!” She wailed into Soryu’s shoulders.

“No.. That’s not-“

“I-I’ll try to bec-become stronger so Dad-Daddy won’t need to protect m-me anymore!” Tears after tears. How could she put Daddy in such scary places?!

“No- Look- Ah..” Soryu faced a predicament, one that he wasn’t accustomed to handling with. Whilst coaxing her through his warmth, his head ran wild with words that would harmoniously string together to calm the storm he created. He wasn’t good with words that held tremendous comfort. Blunt and sharp words were the only ones circulating his vocabulary. However, that was before he met her. Her, the one who blessed upon him the joy of a life and a daughter to raise. Soryu found himself replaying the memories of their family together, searching for a scene that reflected an identical situation to the one now. Think, Soryu. Think!

Muffled intakes and exhales of stuttered breaths were the only sounds in the room for a duration of time.

“Look..” He peeled her away from the placement she stuck against his shoulder. Standing her posture to be directly in the center of his focal point.

“You don’t need to apologize.. Daddy wants to protect you. If I don’t, bad people may come for us and Daddy doesn’t want anybody hurt. Especially you, my little girl.” Knuckles that belonged to him slid underneath her chin and held it up gently. Doed eyes that were reddened from excessive tears now gazed directly into his. In return, slanted eyes crinkled with compassion to further explain his endearment towards her. “I want to play with you. I do. But, for me to play, I need to make sure no one harms you. Okay? Don’t cry. I love you, Princess. I’ll make sure no one harms you.”

“So, Daddy’s not mad?” The childish glow steadily began to replenish her once again.

“No. Daddy’s not mad.” Soryu wiped the last teardrop upon her cheek before standing from his knelt position. “Now, come here!” He widened his arms and passionately glimmered a smile at her. It felt like the right time. Time to finally play.

“Hehe!!” She bound into the embrace of his arms yet again. Daddy was going to play! Play!

“I promised didn’t I?” Soryu raised his pinky into her view, utilizing it to quickly swipe it on the bridge of her nose. The same chimes that twinkled when she laughed arose again as she interlocked her pinky with his. Who knew that the work he planned today would be put off? Especially by a little girl that held a tremendous place in the furrows of Soryu’s heart.

[livingthroughchoices-blog]

The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 17: Lady in Waiting)

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Author’s notes: Hi! Sorry this took FOREVER but, since it’s so short bc the Coronation is split into 3 chapters, I decided to do a double post! Yay! I hope the wait was worth it.

Thank you as always to all who like, reblog and/or comment, idk if I’d still be going without you! Huuuuge thanks to @starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake, @asobigokoro2018, @krisnicjack and @fabi-en-ciel for asking me to tag them! Please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged (:

I love y'all!

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 1,259

Drake woke up with less of a headache than he deserved. His mouth, however, was so dry it felt like paper. He lumbered out of bed and got himself a glass of water, which he promptly gulped down. He went back to bed, intending only to muster enough energy to take a shower, and fell back asleep. 

He shook awake several hours later and felt around his bedside table for his phone. It was midday. With a groan he remembered he was supposed to meet Liam and Bastien at the royal hangar at 11 o’clock. Drake briefly thought about getting up and rushing there, but he figured it was much too late for that.

Thus, he allowed himself a few minutes to parse through his muddled memories of the day before. Everything was quite clear up until Truth or Dare – at least, in comparison with the rest of the night. 

Okay, so after Truth or Dare, I walked with Addams... Crap, I went to her room, right. And then she told me about... her brother. And then...

That was where it got complicated. He vaguely recalled going back downstairs and drinking himself into a stupor, but he had a nagging feeling there was something he was forgetting.

Scratching his neck, he glanced at the door to his room and noticed his pants and underwear lying there in a crumpled heap. 

Oh no.

It all came back to him in a flash; he’d tried to hook up with Kiara and had proceeded to – literally – dump her almost immediately, only to come upstairs and touch himself thinking of Riley.

Shit. I’m such an asshole. God, Kiara must hate me. And I can’t believe I did... that, thinking of Addams. That’s a line I shouldn’t have crossed.

It would be much, much harder to resist now that he’d done it once. He shook his head at that, dismissing the thought before it could reach his groin. Knowing this would lead nowhere good, he decided to focus on the practical for now. Since he’d woken up so late, he had no idea how he was getting back to the palace, which meant step one was getting ready and finding out.

He did everything on autopilot, doing his best to focus on the small ache pulsing through his head, both to distract himself and as merited punishment for the night before.

As he was gathering his things and dumping them in his bag, Bastien entered his room unannounced. 

“So, had a fun night, did we?” The question was lighthearted but there was an undercurrent of disapproval.

“I know, I overslept. I’m sorry,” muttered Drake, still busy putting everything away.

“It was certainly not ideal, but I suppose there’s no harm done. Prince Liam went on ahead; he can’t afford to be late to his own Coronation, after all. You and I will have to drive.”

“What!” His hangover was not too bad, but he knew he’d be in for an uncomfortable car ride anyway, to say the least. “Why? Why can’t we take the other plane?”

“I’m afraid the Beaumont brothers borrowed it.” After a small pause, Bastien addded, “Lady Riley must be punctual, too.”

Drake’s hands froze for a moment, holding his toothpaste over his bag. He forced himself to let go of it and recover. “Right. Can’t be late to her own engagement.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Drake. I’m... truly sorry.” 

Bastien’s hand slid off as Drake stooped down to grab his now-full bag. The older man was looking at him with disproportionate concern. He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.

“I’m fine. Got no one to blame but myself. Let’s go.”

Once he’d loaded his luggage into the limo, he settled in for a long car ride he was bound to spend breathing deeply in order to stave off vomiting. He was desperate to avoid talking, partly because he felt even opening his mouth was risky in his state, and partly due to the event they were driving to. So he closed his eyes and, although sleep wouldn’t come – he’d slept far too much already, and the nausea wouldn’t allow it anyway – he didn’t speak a word until they’d reached the palace.

By the time they got there, the entrance was deserted; the suitors were now dining with the King and Queen and Liam must be in his room getting ready. It was too early for any other guests to have arrived.

Having dropped off his things in his room, he sat down in the main hall, unwilling to go into the ballroom and face tonight’s ceremony yet. After last night, the last thing his body wanted was alcohol, but he didn’t think he could survive this night without a drink. His hand went to his inside pocket and closed around his flask. 

You can’t start drinking your emergency whiskey now! It hasn’t even started!

Yeah and it already sucks.

He was in the middle of this internal debate, when a tearful Hana came out of the dining room where the suitors were having dinner with the King and Queen. 

“Hana?”

Hana’s wiped her tears hastily before she even turned to see who’d called her.

“Oh, Drake. It’s you.” She gave him a small smile and went to sit down next to him. “I always seem to run into you when I’m distraught.” She blushed a little.

“Maybe I’m bad luck,” said Drake, only half joking.

“Don’t say that! You’ve been so kind to me, even when we weren’t friends.”

Drake bit his tongue before he could reply with, “Who says we’re friends now?” He did actually consider her his friend, but old habits die hard. 

He asked instead, “So what’s up?”

“My parents are... disappointed with my performance in court. I am to return home as soon as the Coronation is over.”

“What the hell? I... don’t know what to say, that sucks.”

Hana sighed. “It does, doesn’t it? I’ve been so free here, and I’ve made friends... I’ll probably never see Riley again.” 

A teardrop fell on her dress, making the silver fabric appear dark grey. Drake patted her back, saying nothing.

In between quiet sobs, Hana said, “And now she’ll never know how I feel...”

Drake turned to look at her. “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why wouldn’t she know how you feel about her? If you want her to know before you go, you can choose to tell her, Hana. And if you’re leaving tomorrow then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

She met his gaze. Her lips were trembling and she was sniffling, but she seemed calmer. She wiped her tears, being careful not to ruin her makeup.

“Is it obvious I’ve been crying?”

Surprisingly, there was only the faintest hint of pink to her nose and the red in her eyes was rapidly fading. Leave it to Hana to cry prettily. Drake smiled softly.

“Nah, you’re good. So you’re telling her?”

“I’m... not sure yet, but you’ve given me a lot to think about. Thank you... again, Drake. I said I was going to the ladies’ room so I should return to the dining room before I’m missed.” She gave him a quick, grateful peck on the cheek before going back through the door she came from.

Drake was left to ponder the fact that he’d just encouraged someone to confess their feelings for the same girl for whom he himself was head over heels. 

Off to a good start. 

He took a swig of his flask.

[marmelade-sky]

Traiterous Heart, pt. 2

Thank you for all your feedback! :) I’m so glad you liked it. 

I almost died when I realized I used the WRONG FUCKING NAME the whole time. Omg. Apologies. Idk why but I think I just got it wrong once in the beginning and then my brain was like ‘yep, that’s right, that’s his name, yes’

I’m embarrassed. 

But hey xD enjoy part 2, this time with the correct name! Yay! 

There is a lot of crying, because, hey, coming out is emotional af. So be warned. Also, tw: mild homophobia.

read part 1 here

read here on ao3 or if you’re on mobile

Sherwin can’t believe that he gets to stare at Jonathan without having to be ashamed now. And he can’t believe Jonathan, sometimes, catches him when he turns around in class, and his whole face lights up when he smiles at Sherwin and it’s beautiful.

Sherwin blushes and smiles back and then Jonathan blushes too and Tildy just sits next to Sherwin and giggles.

-

As nice as it is to know Jonathan likes him back, and as nice as it is when Jonathan hugs him in the morning before school and that they sometimes hold hands when noone sees, it’s still not easy.

Sherwin’s mom and dad are shocked at first when he tells them, crying, that his heart has chosen someone, and then they’re even more shocked when he tells them it’s a boy. 

His dad doesn’t say anything at first, and his mom says “Oh.”, and Sherwin can’t help but cry even harder. They don’t fight, because Sherwin doesn’t fight with his parents on principle, he just retreats into his bedroom and cries into his pillow and texts Jonathan who’s cute and asks if he can do anything, but he can’t really. 

An hour later, there’s a knock on his door, and it’s Mom. She comes in and sits on Sherwin’s bed with him and holds out a bowl of chocolate ice cream. “...I’m sorry, sweetie.”, she says, and Sherwin doesn’t look at her because he’s crying again, “Dad and I just... we didn’t expect that. Or maybe we just... didn’t pay enough attention.” She reaches out and pets his auburn curls. Her hair is the same color. 

“I was really scared to tell you.”, Sherwin whispers and wipes his nose with his sleeve. 

His mom sighs. “How long have you known?”

“A while.” Sherwin shrugs. “I thought if I just tried hard enough that feeling would go away...”

“Oh, Sher.” His mom puts the bowl down on his night stand and pulls him into her arms, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry you were so afraid. We love you, very much, no matter what. And if your heart has chosen this... boy for you, then he must be right for you. You have a good heart. It wouldn’t just pick anyone.” 

Sherwin wraps his arms around her, and it feels like, maybe, just maybe, everything’s gonna be okay. 

-

His dad needs a little longer to come around, and he’s a little weird around Sherwin for a while, but then, one morning, he offers to drop Sherwin off at school on his way to work. 

They sit in the car, and the radio plays some top 10 pop song Sherwin actually kind of likes, when his dad says: “So, are you gonna bring this boy around some time?”

Sherwin almost chokes. “Uh...yeah... I guess...?”

His dad grunts in response. “....s’he have a name?”

“Y-yeah.” Sherwin swallows, “....Jonathan.”

“Ah.”, his dad grunts again. 

They proceed to the school in silence, but Sherwin can’t help but smile when he waves at his dad as he drives away after dropping him off. 

-

The same evening, Frederick comes barging into Sherwin’s room. Sherwin is reading and texting Jonathan, but Fred just throws himself into Sherwin’s bed and grabs his book and phone, dropping them on the carpet. 

“So.” He grins at Sherwin, and Sherwin knows he’s gonna say something stupid or mean right now. 

“I can’t believe I’m the one you tell last!”

Sherwin furrows his eyebrows. “...what?” 

Fred huffs and smirks. “...that you’re in luuuuurve!” He draws out the word in a stupidly cheesy way, and Sherwin rolls his eyes while feeling his cheeks flush pink. 

“I had to hear it from my friend, whose little brother is in your year! And then mom tells me she and dad have known it for weeks now?! What the hell, brother?” Fred punches Sherwin’s arm, but not hard enough to really hurt. 

Sherwin tries to push him off, but Fred is bigger than he is and four years older. He’s also an idiot. “Because I knew you’d be mean about it!”

“When have I ever been mean about anything?!” Fred clutches his chest dramatically. Sherwin just looks at him with his eyebrows raised.

“...alright, alright. But I need to know who that guy is! I have to give him the classic ‘if you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you’-speech.” 

Sherwin blinks. This is oddly sweet. He had expected Fred to be stupid about it, tease him and be mean... but this? It’s actually really nice in Fred’s own, weird way. 

“...don’t do that please. I’ll only tell you who he is if you promise me you won’t do that!” Sherwin grabs his phone from the floor where Fred has tossed it before, and crosses his arms. 

“Psh.” Fred reaches for the phone. “I’m not making any promises. How did you even meet?” Sherwin glares at him until Fred sighs and slumps. “...alright, alright. I’m not gonna tease you, and I’m not gonna try and scare him. Only if he doesn’t treat you right. Now spill the beans.”

Sherwin glares at him some more, but eventually relaxes. “So, he transferred to our school some months ago...”

-

Jonathan’s parents don’t live together anymore, Sherwin knows by now. When Jonathan tells them (seperately), his mom reacts wonderfully, but his father tells him that he’s going to hell. 

It’s awful to see Jonathan cry, and Sherwin can’t help but feel guilty. Their hearts hold on to each other, nestled into Sherwin’s lap while he and Jonathan sit in Jonathan’s mom’s living room and Jonathan sniffles into his shoulder. 

“Dad and I don’t even get along, but... still.” Jonathan wipes his cheeks dry with his palm, and looks at Sherwin with his ocean colored eyes. “I wish he’d just... try to understand.”

“I’m sorry.”, Sherwin whispers and reaches out to wipe a teardrop from Jonatha’s chin. “Can I do anything?”

Jonathan shrugs. “...no... you being here and being you is already helping.”

“Okay.”, Sherwin replies, and lets Jonathan lean against him again.

-

At school, the response to their relationship varies.

Thanks to Sherwin’s traiterous heart, everyone knows about them, so there’s really no such things as a big coming out. 

Some people react poorly, and at first, the slurs yelled after them in the hallways hurt Sherwin. When he eventually tells him mom about it, she gets really angry and makes some very, very stern phone calls the next morning. 

It gets a little better after that, and it helps that Sherwin’s friends are all very supportive. Tildy is still ready to fight anyone who so much as looks at Sherwin (and Jonathan) wrong, and his other friends are all varying degrees of cool with it. 

One day, at lunch, a girl comes up to Sherwin. She’s in the grade below him, and he isn’t sure if her name is Angela or Angelica or something completely different. 

“...I just... I just wanted to say it’s nice knowing I’m not the only one at school.”, she tells him quietly, and he needs a moment to understand what she means by that, but then it clicks, and he smiles at her. She smiles back shyly. 

Sherwin keeps thinking about that short conversation the whole day, and it makes him smile.

-

They’re becoming friends at first, him and Jonathan. Even if their hearts have chosen each other, they’re still very young, and they barely know each other.

Sherwin’s mom thinks she needs to give him “the talk”, but when Sherwin (blushing crimson) tells her that he and Jonathan only hold hands and hug (and there won’t be anything else going on for a long time either), she looks very relieved. 

They watch lots of movies, and sometimes they just hang out together. Jonathan reads so many books every week, and sometimes, he reads out loud to Sherwin. Sherwin loves his voice, it’s soft and really nice, and sometimes he falls asleep when Jonathan reads to him. 

Sherwin learns that Jonathan has a dog named Kylie who likes stealing Jonathan’s lunch from the counter.

He learns that Jonathan’s favourite superhero is Wonder Woman. 

He learns that Jonathan loves oreos and hates snickerdoodles. 

He learns that Jonathan hates it when anything messes up his hair, but loves to run his fingers through Sherwin’s curls. 

He also learns that Jonathan gives the best hugs in the whole wide world.

-

They become inseperable. 

Sherwin’s parents love Jonathan. “Such a polite boy!”, his mom always cooes, and Sherwin’s chest fills with pride whenever she mentions it. Sherwin’s dad calls Jonathan “Jon.” and drives them to the movies or the lake.

His aunt gifts him a rainbow flag, and Jonathan helps him hang it up in his room. (They’re allowed alone in there, but only when Sherwin’s parents are home. It’s awfully embarrassing.)

“Tadaa!” Sherwin steps back and looks at their master piece. It’s a little crooked, and one corner flaps forward, but Sherwin is still very proud. 

Jonathan laughs. “We should have used pins instead of tape.”

Sherwin shrugs. “Eh. ...if it doesn’t hold, you’ll just have to come over again.” He turns to Jonathan and smiles. “...thank you, for helping me hang it up.” 

Jonathan smiles back and reaches for his hand. “...no problem.” 

Sherwin steps closer to him, and Jonathan reaches out and pulls him into one of those lovely, perfect hugs which Sherwin always melts into. 

“You know it’s actually called a pride flag?”, Jonathan says after a moment of quiet.

“Really?”, Sherwin asks, voice muffled by Jonathan’s sweater.

“Uh-huh.” Jonathan is quiet for a moment. “...I’m really proud to have you.”

Sherwin’s heart squeals happily and Sherwin hides his blushing face and huge smile in Jonathan’s shoulder.

-

High school is a little scary at first, but most of their friends are in the same class as them, and Sherwin gets to sit next to Jonathan in most classes. 

Jonathan has grown a lot, and Sherwin can’t believe he’s several inches taller than him by now. He kind of hopes that he’ll grow some more, too, but he also hopes that he doesn’t grow too much, because it’s really nice to snuggle his face into Jonathan’s chest. 

Homecoming approaches, and Sherwin is weirdly excited for it. As they watch older students hang up garlands and posters announcing it, Sherwin looks to Jonathan, who, nose buried in yet another book (”Simon vs. the Homo Sapien Agenda”, reads the cover), is slowly eating his salad. 

“Do you wanna go with me?”, Sherwin blurts out, and then blushes furiously. 

Jonathan looks up, a little startled. “...go where?”

Sherwin motions to the posters, “...homecoming.”

Jonathan follows his gesturing hand, and then blushes, too. He gives Sherwin a smile and nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Cool.” Sherwin can’t help the huge grin that threatens to split his face in half.

-

After it’s over, they walk home together. They don’t live far apart, and Sherwin’s mom has promised to fetch him from Jonathan’s house. He hasn’t called her yet.

Sherwin’s wearing one of Fred’s old suits and a green button up and a matching tie. His mom couldn’t stop cooing over how handsome he looked before he left the house. 

Jonathan is wearing a suit, too, and Sherwin can’t stop looking at him. He looks kind of grown up, and really handsome. Sherwin is very proud that Jonathan is his... his boyfriend. 

“So... here we are...” Jonathan smiles sheepishly when they’re in front of his house. 

Sherwin smiles back equally as bashfully, and takes out his phone. “I’ll... I’ll text my mom.” He does, and she replies immediately. It takes her maybe five minutes until she’ll be here. 

“...that was really nice.” Jonathan smiles and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, it really way.” They’re so close, best friends, or even more than that, but right now, the air feels all charged as if there are sparks flying. Sherwin’s heart is unusually quiet right now, but he can feel its excitement. 

Jonathan steps closer and reaches out, taking Sherwin’s hands in his. They’re suddenly really close together, and Sherwin’s real heart, the one in his chest, starts to race as he looks up at Jonathan. 

“Do you... do you want to kiss?”, Jonathan asks very quietly, and Sherwin’s gonna explode any second now. 

“Y-yeah.”, he replies equally as softly. 

“Okay.”, Jonathan whispers. For a moment, neither Jonathan nor Sherwin move.

“I...I think you need to stand on your tip toes.”, Jonathan sheepishly smiles. 

“Oh! Yeah. Yes. Okay.” Sherwin rocks forward onto the his tip toes so Jonathan’s face and his face are on the same level. Jonathan holds his hands firmly enough so he doesn’t lose balance. 

Before Sherwin can lose his nerves, he does probably the most courageous thing he’s ever done: he leans forward a little more and pecks at Jonathan’s lips. 

It’s quick, and quickly over, but it’s their first kiss. 

When Sherwin climbs into his mom’s car minutes later, he’s still blushing, and smiling from ear to ear. 

His mom just gives him a knowing look, but doesn’t comment. 

When Sherwin lies in bed later that night, and grins up to the ceiling, he thinks that maybe he’s a little glad that his heart is such a little traitor. 

[voltronbutheadcanons]

A fluffy scenario where lance and his s/O are celebrating his birthday back on earth with his family. ; ₩;

Sorry that these are all late! But we’re super-psyched for S3 and the Mods will reunite on Wednesday! So, we’re keeping up!

I made this kinda langsty, but it fluffly nonetheless! ~Mod Saffron

“Eyyyy, Lance!” Lance’s mother opened the door wide as soon as she saw her youngest son in the door frame, smiling wide and itching to hug. She embraced him tightly and kissed his cheeks soundly. “Como estas, mi hijo? Come in, come in! You must be hot, love!”

“Always smokin’, mamma.” Lance winked at his mother as she tugged at his forearm, closing the door to his childhood behind him.

Walking him down the leading hallway to the living room, Mrs. McClain bounced happily along as she dragged her son to where everyone was waiting in clusters of conversation. She then bounded into the wide room, waving her hand and tugging Lance in front of her. “Everyone! Birthday boy is here!”

The minimal conversations cut short and all cousins, siblings, friends, and other relatives joined in a united and powerful ‘Happy Birthday’ song, but not before everyone shushing everyone else.

“Felicidades, Lance, en tu día que…” 

Someone off to the side quickly hissed at another to flick off the lights and candles were hastily lit with many cigarette lighters. Lance’s father balanced the homemade cake made by his sisters onto his wide palms and began to stride towards his son, a beam deeply imprinted within his features.

Lance  took this chance to cover his mouth with his hands as a shocked person would (though he was totally expecting this) and jokingly waved his hand around his eyes to make it seem as if he were tearing.  Everyone momentarily stumbled in their song with a chuckle, only to continue on with the counting of Lance’s previous ages. 

“Are you one? No! Are you two?” The children chanted excitedly.

“Yes!” A cousin called from the back of the room. Shattered laughter echoed throughout the room once again.

Lance stood on his tiptoes to raise his head higher and halfheartedly called to the crier, “Oh,shut up, Arlo!” 

The young relatives of the family giggled and laughed when Lance’s father lightly swatted the back of Lance’s head while simultaneously trying to balance the cake properly. “Watch your language. There are kids around here.”

Lance laughed at his father’s attempts to chide him and grasped his hand instead, squeezing it tighter. “Ah, I know. Thanks, pappa.”

A kiss was pressed against the side of Lance’s head as the cake settled down at the head of the dining table, where Lance was seated. “Happy birthday, son.”

“Whooo!” Lance fist-pumped the air excitedly while his aunts kept trying to take normal pictures of his moving figure, only to end up with blurred photos from his eractic movement. “Let’s cut this cake!”

A tug on his sleeve directed Lance’s attention to beside him where two oceanic eyes struck him deep in the chest. “Uncle Lance?”

“Yeah, bud, what’s up?”

“Can I have the jelly part of the cake,” the soft voice asked.Then, several other kids popped up from this secret conversation. 

“Ooh! Ooh!”

“Me, too!”

“Me, too!”

“I want the jelly also!”

“Hey, I aksed for it first!”

Lance’s oldest sister, Maria, raised her hands and crossed them over several times. “Alright, enough! Everyone’s gonna get cake, but those who yell and shout will not get anything, and I can say that because I made the cake!”

The birthday boy nodded, impressed by the sudden silence and excited tension in the air. “Well done, Maria. Well done.”

She turned to him with a roll of her eyes and a heaving sigh. “These kids… I don’t know how you get them to listen to you. It’s like you have magic.”

“Magic is correct, dear sister of mine.” Lance leaned back in his chair as his sisters dipped their fingers in a bowl of water and hastily pinched the flames out. “I have been to space and all, meeting magical princesses and–hey!”

Lance’s surrounding relatives jumped in surprise as he sat up, gripping the armrests on the sides of his chair with a tight clasp. “Where’s my friends? And (Name), did she come, mamma?”

Mrs. McClain’s face fell a bit as she rubbed her knuckles nervously. “I’m sorry, Lance. I called all of your friends and (Name) a few hours ago, but they did not pick up. I’m sorry, mi hijo.”

Lance fell back into his chair, a little sullen at the fact that his friends, Team Voltron, and his girlfriend weren’t coming to his awesome birthday bash. “Ah, it’s okay. I might see them later tonight, if I make it to the coffee shop.”

His mother rubbed his shoulders, feeling a little sorry for making her son’s mood drop but soon…

“Well,” Maria clapped her hands to grab the attention of all the drooling children, who were eyeing the cake hungrily. “Why don’t we let Lance cut the cake, so everyone can start eating, and then we’ll play some games!”

Lance pushed away his sorrowful thoughts and put a smile on his face. “Alrighty, here we go!”

The children eagerly yelled, “Yay!” as Lance slipped the cutting knife into his hands and carefully angled the blade to form two perpendicular lines, creating a perfect triangle. Another tap alerted Lance and he paused his movements to look to his side once more. “Yes?”

Maria’s daughter gazed upwards towards him with wide brown eyes and a worried expression on her face. “Uncle Lance, you can’t cut the bottom of the cake! You’re the birthday boy and Mama said that you are never allowed to cut the bottom!”

“Yeah!” Her brother chimed in. “It’s a bad super-zition.”

Lance’s lips curved in an upward grin. “You mean superstition?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” Lance patted her curls. “I won’t cut the bottom.”

His niece closed her lids in relief and wiped her brow dramatically. “Phew!”

The adults laughed and prodded at Maria’s upbringing towards her children, but she just rolled her eyes and pointedly glanced towards her own mother, who was shaking her head and remaining adamant to her beliefs.

After cutting several pieces, Maria proceeded to lift underneath the slices and plop them onto ocean-themed plates to hand out to all. The younger cousins got first pick and ran outside to sit at their designated table, fervently diving into their slices.

Lance politely made conversation with his aunts and older cousins to humor them, but as he picked at his cake slice, he couldn’t ignore the slight prick at his heart when the thought of his friends’ absence hit him once again. As good as his acting skills were, Lance felt his facade slip away with every poke at his cake. The many familiar faces  of his family reminded him of seven missing visages from his birthday bash.

Gosh, he hadn’t felt this lonely in a very long time.

Several minutes passed. Lance was caught up in his own thoughts, mulling over every possibility that his friends could take to skip out on this special day, but he couldn’t help noticing the laughter and mixed chatter in the room level down a bit with each passing second. People were now talking in hushed tones and glancing out the window leading to the front yard every now and then.

Suddenly, he was blind. He yelped when the cold hands snapped shut over his vision and made shivers travel down his arms, raising goosebumps. Lance pried at the strange hands with nimble fingers and he heard several uncles chuckle at his attempts.

“Hey! Wha–” He scratched at the fingers, hoping to fling the blinder off of his precious face. The person grunted with slight pain. “Let go!”

“God, for someone who loves me, you really do hate surprises.”

His breath hitched in his throat and his efforts to reach the person froze. Lance’s broken heart started to easily repair itself as soon as he heard well-known voices giggle and snort, much to his helplessness. A hopeful smile stretched onto his features and he let his arms drop.

“…(Name)?”

He could suddenly see once more, blinking harshly to get accustomed to light, and swiftly twisted in his chair to see the beaming face of his girlfriend with Team Voltron behind you. “Surprise!”

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. “Guuuuys! What the actual heck!”

Laughter rang throughout the room accompanied with broken applause as Lance sprang up to tightly embrace you, the other Paladins circling him to ensue one huge group hug. Hunk lifted everyone up as quickly as he could and squeezed you with a iron-like grip before dropping everyone to the ground.

“I thought you weren’t coming!” Lance exclaimed, wiping away teardrops with a finger. He wasn’t faking this time.

Keith rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Whoops, we lied.”

The two chuckled and clapped hands, tapping each other on the back with affection. “Don’t be a jerk, it’s my birthday.”

“Whatever.”

When he separated from Keith’s hug, he turned to every Paladin individually and personally thanked them for their arrival. Pidge was a bit hesitant to let Lance bawl his snot all over her, but she gently comforted him with friendly pats on the back.

“Aw man.” Lance sniffed and wiped his eyes, laughing shortly when he rubbed his red nose. “You guys made me cry.”

Shiro crossed his arms, trying to ignore Lance’s aunts curious eyes over his broad shoulders and bulging muscles, and chuckled. “Well, serves you right for all those times you bailed out on missions for your faux tears.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

You cradled your boyfriend’s cheeks in your palms as you tugged him closer to press your lips against his. Lance slowly tilted his head, nose brushing yours, as he felt his cheeks hollow to suck your lips carefully. Many of the kids who came back in to see what the hustle was about (and eager to see new guests) made grossed out sounds as you kissed Lance tenderly.

When you pulled back, it was only a few centimeters between your faces and soft smiles on your faces as your foreheads stuck together, eyes locked to see happiness and home within them. He had his hands running up and down your arms, rubbing them in comfort.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You whispered when your heart exploded with joy.

“Why, thank you, mi amor.” Lance winked as he rolled the last syllable of ‘amor’ with his tongue. You giggled into his neck, snatching the boy into a firm embrace, stroking his soft hair and letting the locks slip through your fingers.

Lance glanced towards the ceiling, his deep blue eyes glistening with tears again. What a birthday indeed.